Denial and "Advocate Fatigue"

Throughout late fall and early winter of 2010 we had made some great successes. We completed Amelie's autism testing; changed her diet; hired a speech specialist; diligently took notes at our weekly meetings with Donna; did our homework and journaled all of our successes in our blue notebook...we were on track and improving by leaps and bounds!

Then, suddenly things came to a screeching hault. All of the sudden I started slacking off in different areas. First, because things were going so well, we decided that her wheat "allergy" was probably bunk and that we were going to embrace, wholeheartedly, the bread basket when it arrived at our dinner table! Gone were the enormous weekly shopping trips and meal planning. We began eating out more and I even would send parts of leftovers to school with Amelie for lunches. (always done with a pang of guilt...but with the internal excuse of having spent time with Amelie being more important than slaving away in the kitchen over the 'perfect' meal.)

I lost the blue notebook. Actually, I didn't lose it...I put it in a bag with all of our GFCF cookbooks, testing results folders and other info I've collected for this blog. I put it under a table in the back corner of my studio- ostensibly to have it all localized to construct this blog. I couldn't look at it anymore. My "new" Amelie had grown out of all of those behaviors and was well on her way to being a "normal" kid. Even having this blog felt like a betrayal to all of the other mothers out there who were dealing with a "real" spectrum child, so I stopped writing for it and thinking about it.

Gradually the reports of the "bad" behaviors started filtering back from school. Things like spinning, barking, blank stares, inability to call up answers or information, aggressive playing with other kids, meltdowns had become a thing of the past and were, again, rearing their ugly heads. As Donna put it, "It's like there are two Amelie's coming to school, and the old Amelie is back."

Then two things happened that hit me over the head- making me realize that I'm further from "normal" than I wanted to be.
1) We were at Easter Brunch and a woman said, "My son has Aspergers too" (unprovocated)
2) One morning as I dropped her off for school, I witnessed Amelie try to call up a story from the night before. It was painful to watch her try to pull the words out of her head and see the other kids...clearly more verbal...get frustrated waiting for her to tell the tale.

I cried all the way into work that morning. All of the sudden I realized that I just need to go back to square one. I had fallen off the wagon (one that was working!) and I needed to center myself and proceed. I had been experiencing what I call "Advocate Fatigue". I decided this time I would do a few things differently, more organized and planned to set us up for a bit more success.

1. I made a steadfast effort to make sure that Tim was on board. It took a couple of discussions (and, let's be honest, a few frustrating eye-rolls) but we are now 'on the same page' with the gluten thing.
2. I really planned my meals and leftovers for lunches to ensure I would not be having any more $200 grocery bills. I saved the plans to be used for later weeks so I wouldn't have to re do my work.
3. I took everything out of the house that could be a distraction for her- anything that I would have to turn down. That way, none of us would "cheat" and she wouldn't feel left out.
4. I started following recipies. Sounds easy, right? Yeah, instead of thinking in some 'Bridget Jones' way that every concoction I improvise will suddenly turn out to be a masterpiece...I now follow recipies so I'm not torturing my family with a limited diet of green mush (or brown kale flavored smoothies...)
5. On a non-diet note, I'm taking copious notes of my meetings with Donna that I have decided to post here. Hopefully that will help with my knowledge absorbtion as well!

The Charger and the Thinker

I am a charger. If a problem arises, I'm one of the first people to identify it and (putting ego aside) work to correct it.

Tim is a thinker. He is more comfortable calmly pondering the information and possible solutions..." sit on it and let life take it's course" ... "watch and wait".

When our daughter- the most important thing in both of our lives - became "afflicted" with this unknown diagnosis, we each did what came naturally...

I went running from the building, straight to a computer. I cried through the most touching videos - parents describing the journey's they have taken, watching their children degenerate. I began to get anxious. I spoke to my mom, who not only is an amazing mom, but has also been trained to care for autistic children. I spoke to my sister, Melissa, a special-ed grade school teacher. She confirmed that Amelie did indeed show signs of Aspergers Syndrome- particularly in her frequent shows of resistance. I read articles, books and interviews. I stayed up all night long and read Jenny McCarthy's "Louder Than Words". (A great and empowering book which gave me strength through some dark days. I heart you Jenny)- then I put the whole family on the GF/CF diet. I paced. I fretted. I talked and reached out.

Tim, on the other hand, retreated. He lay horizontal, catanoic, staring at the TV screen. His voice was quieter, his hugs were longer, his eyes were tired. He became frustrated at my buzzing energy and boundless "solutions". I became irritated with his seeming lack of caring.

One morning I called Melissa with this problem. She laughed and said that it was normal for the father to experience more "denial" or at least to deal with it differently. Her casual demeanor regarding what I thought was going to be a major issue somehow gave me comfort. "It's very common." she said. "Try not push him. He needs his space right now to handle it in his own way."
"Besides," she added, "You don't even know what this is yet..."

The difference in parenting and living styles is something I'm sure all parents and partners struggle with. Dealing with a child with 'special needs' just puts those struggles under a microscope. So many times I've screamed to myself, "It would be SO much easier if I could just do this on my own...make my own choices and solutions with nobody fighting me!!"

But, time has shown me that is not the case. He is the only one who can comfort me when tantruming just won't end. He's the only one that secretly chuckles with me when she says something that sounds absurd because she can't find the words yet. He's the only one that loves her as much as I do. Maybe we don't always agree on the methods, but I could never, ever do this without him.