If someone told me six months ago that this is where I would be, I would have probably slept a lot better. Nora was officially diagnosed in December. I will always remember that feeling. That day. I kept it together on the outside for the most part. When the doctor was speaking I felt a half smile on my face. I was nodding my head at her to let her know I was still listening. Nora was standing on the table flapping a plastic toy baby bottle. When the meeting was over we went to lunch. Then we carried on with our lives. On the inside I was in a panic. My life was living, breathing, ALL ABOUT AUTISM. Enough with the Autism talk. Can we talk about ANYTHING ELSE? Sorry, that's not my point. I digress-
I would be at work sitting in a meeting then all of a sudden my mind would wander and I'd think to myself: "What if Nora can't live on her own? What if I die tomorrow, what will happen to my Nora?" I'd lay awake at night thinking about how she would be in special education. I'd cry because I was afraid she would never have a best friend, or go to a birthday party. I was afraid she would never speak or look me in the eye.
Let me tell you- early intervention is a God send. Nora is talking. She looks in everyone's eyes. Literally, she stares. She's been invited to fucking birthday parties. She's hilarious. Smart as hell. How many two year olds know their colors? Count to 15? Know the alphabet? Is able to identify all the letters of the alphabet? MY TWO YEAR OLD CAN.
Six months later I feel more myself. I'm not worried. Everything will be fine. Everything is fine. My point is: an Autism diagnosis is nothing to fret about. We all as humans have bigger fish to fry than a little Autism diagnosis.
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