For as long as I can remember I wanted to be a mother. I was one of those little girls who wanted to play with nothing but baby dolls. To this very day, I still have my treasured “Pouty Baby”.
The road to becoming a parent was not easy but when the day finally happened and I held by beautiful baby boy in my arms for the first time, none of that mattered anymore. He was perfect. The child that I had carried inside me for 9 months, who I felt kick and hiccup relentlessly was more beautiful than I could have dreamed.
But there were things that didn’t seem right as he got older and when he was three and a half, I was called into pre-school and told “we think there is a problem.” And thus our journey began…our journey with Asperger's Syndrome.
From the age of 2, my son was an outsider. He lacked the language skills of the other children. He could not socialize like the other children. He had narrow interests and the rules of play had to be his rules of play. In his mind, there was only one way to play dinosaurs, only one way to put Thomas trains on the track, and only one way to work a puzzle. No other way would do. That kind of behavior did not bode well for him socially and therefore, it resulted in many disagreements among his friends and generally the loss of them. Of course, at age two, we did not know he had Asperger’s syndrome…we did not know at age 3, 4 or 5 even. He was just considered a bad kid. Spoiled. And I was a bad parent.
When my youngest son was old enough to be of age to play and socialize, he did not have these problems. I wondered why, if I was a bad parent, both of my children did not turn out the same way. Surly if I had bad parenting skills then both of my children would be the same way.
For years, I would go home from pre-school and kindergarten and weep while other parents went off with their children to play groups to which we were never invited. My son had no friends. I took my child to school every day and children would say “hi” to their classmates but no one said “hi” to my son. I put myself in situations where I subjected myself to hearing children and even adults say very hurtful things about my son.
But the person who should be most ashamed of themselves is ME. Even though I did everything I could to help my son, I failed tremendously. I read books and research. I volunteered, coached sports for him, substitute taught and had as many social gatherings as I could. I got him the best medical evaluations I could.
I am ashamed because in looking back, I see all the things I did wrong. And there were plenty. Recently, I witnessed a child who I suspect to have Asperger Syndrome be berated for approximately 10 minutes by two adults. The child sat expressionless as most children with Asperger’s Syndrome do. In observing this, I saw myself and my son. So many times, when I wanted so badly for my son to just do what every other child did so that we all could just fit in, I would go on and on and on at him. He sat and took it….showing no emotion. And I took the lack of emotion as a sign that he did not “get it”…that I was not getting through to him…so I kept going on and on.
Well, the day I witnessed the incident of the child and the two adults, the child later said to me “I don’t want those to ladies to ever hurt my feelings again.” And I knew then that despite his lack of emotional expression, he took in everything they said to him and so much more.
And ever since then, I have not only grieved for that child, but I have grieved for my son and what I did to him countless times when I thought he did not get it. People want to tell me I have done a good job. No. No, I have not. But, I tried to do a good job. I have made many mistakes. I did not and still do not know what to do most of the time.
I have learned a lot about Asperger's Syndrome, other people, friendships and me. And to be honest, the best person involved in this whole thing is my son...and if it isn't him, I know it certainly is not me.
I will close how I opened...Characteristics of Asperger’s Syndrome tell us that they do not show emotion or that they demonstrate inappropriate emotion. How foolish of us to assume that just because we cannot see it, it does not exist.
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