Thursday, 22 June 2017

The One With The Nuclear Fallout (39 months + 11 days)

It is Thursday.

Yesterday, I sobbed, I screamed, I spent £60 on a yellow jacket that I have coveted for several weeks, booked a 10k in Durham for next month, Piglet got a new Paw Patrol toy, bag and hat (this is what happens when I get a credit card increase and "bad" news on the same day), and we went to bed at 7pm. 

And when I woke up, it was 1:30am. And it was Thursday. 

We're giving potty training another whirl at the moment. On Tuesday, I promised Piglet that she could have anything she wanted if she did all her wee wees on the toilet and she asked for a pink bike. Since then, she has only had two accidents at nursery, so it seems to be working. Because she is fine. 

She saw me crying after the hospital yesterday, wiped away my tears, gave me a cuddle and asked if I was OK. Because she is fine.

She gave me a big kiss and a hug when I picked her up last night and told me she loved me. Because she is fine. 

She jumped in bed next to me and insisted that she was squeezed as tight as possible (this is the only way she will fall asleep) and....that can be autistic. But you know what? That's fine. 

Piglet isn't autistic. Piglet is Piglet. Piglet may end up being on the autistic spectrum but it will just be part of who she is. And after the stories I have read this morning, that's fine. It is fine. Autism isn't understood by society. I don't fully understand autism. But you know what? I'm probably on the spectrum. You're probably on the spectrum. We're all on the bloody spectrum. And....it's not Piglet's problem. Nothing has changed, or will change for her. It is just being made apparent to me. So I need to get over myself. 

Nursery said Piglet was off yesterday afternoon; that she was in a really odd mood. And honestly? I'm not surprised. Imagine sitting in a room for an hour with two people talking about you in front of your face- how would you feel? She's sharp as a whistle when it comes to understanding what you're saying, and that can be easy to forget. 

The health visitor isn't trying to set me up, She's trying to help. The pediatrician isn't telling me there's something wrong, she's telling me that there's something different. 

For anyone else in this situation- don't just read literature. Because it uses language like "disorder" and "delay" and other negative words that... aren't necessarily true. Read people's stories. Read their experiences. And you'll have a totally different perspective on the situation. 

I've been fighting any and all medical diagnoses around Piglet. I'm silly, really. I think in my mind, by resisting everything, I was fighting for her; I was defending her corner. And I thought that by going down this path, it would mean her life would be more difficult. But...it doesn't change anything. It's just a word.

The real fight is against what most people believe autism is. Myself included.

So. It's Thursday. What should we all do today? We should buy beautiful yellow jackets. Because life is short. We should educate ourselves. Because ignorance is dangerous. I myself am going to start looking at the best methods for teaching children on the autistic spectrum. I'm also going to be serving pints with a smile to alcoholics at 11am. The most important thing we should do today though? We should hug our babies as tight as we can. Our happy, funny, loving, unique babies. Mine's perfect, and I'm sure yours is too.

p.s. Baby cat fell out of the bathroom window whilst we were at hospital yesterday so I returned home to a very soggy wet cat stood by the back door feeling sorry for himself. This was the highlight of Woeful Wednesday, and has more than made up for the fact that he continually poos on the floor and gave Adelaide a hysterical pregnancy.  


  

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