It's not a sprint...it's a marathon

Thank God our internet isn’t the most reliable because a few weeks ago, in a purely emotional state, I turned on my computer with the mindset to delete my entire blog.  I was feeling defeated, insecure, and wavering in my beliefs.  That’s how rough the week had been. 

It’s very difficult when you decide to use a treatment like biomedical, which is controversial, not understood, and foreign to the general population.  It’s even more difficult when even amongst the autistic community, the one you belong to because your child doesn’t “belong” to the typical community, isn’t supportive, understanding, or encouraging with your course of treatment.  It becomes overwhelming when all you’re trying to do it help your child and you’re seen as harming, non-accepting, and downright insulting those in the autistic community who believe there is nothing to “fix”. 

I think we should all encourage each other with whatever route we choose to take.  All we are all trying to do for our children is to help them achieve their fullest potential.  None of us would ever do something knowingly to harm our child.  I believe it’s so important to remain open minded when it comes to all different types of treatments for our kids.  I do want to “fix” things that limit him because of autism.  I don’t want to “fix” his sense of humor, his silliness, his outgoing lovable self, his love for electronics and comic books, his deep emotional connection with everyone around him.  I don’t think that by taking away behaviors such as pacing, walking in circles, vocal ticks, inability to focus his attention, hand flapping, food sensitivity, smell sensitivity that I will be altering who he is.  These are issues that limit who he is.  Maybe our route of treatment will work, maybe it won’t, but I need to try.

Since beginning our journey in biomedical treatment a little under a year ago, this is the 1^st time that I have felt doubt and questioned its validity.  Things have not been progressing as they did in the beginning and we’ve hit a wall, so to speak.  I’ve cried, I’ve prayed, and I’ve considered giving up, but in the end I reminded myself the wise words of his doctor.  “This is not a sprint…it’s a marathon”.  If I don’t stick with it and finish what we started, I’ll never know if it was really the answer and if it would have worked.  So, I’m sticking with it.  I’m giving it a chance to heal that which needs healing. 

I’m continuing with the supplements his body needs to support his system and repair damage done, we’ve started hyperbaric treatment (I’ll write a post about that soon), we continue on a very strict gluten/casein free diet, I’m still trying to reduce his carb and sugar intake (to control yeast) and increase his protein and vegetable intake, and I’m also learning more about using essential oils.  We’re back in occupational therapy after a few months off (insurance change) and I’m hoping to begin seeing those positive changes we initially saw when starting OT soon. 

The Autism Fog is Lifting

If you ask me about Alec's autistic symptoms I can give you a list of them.  I pay close attention to this list and look for any changes as we do his biomedical treatment.  I've noticed so many changes.  His eye contact is better, he's more focused, he's listening better, his language is exploding, he's using idioms in his language, he has conversations that are more in depth. These are changes I was watching out for, but recently I've noticed something unexpected.  It was unexpected because I never noticed it didn't exist.  It all started last week on the way to my parents house.  We were driving over the bridge that goes over the inter-coastal waterway.  He was staring out the window and then says, "Wow, look at all those boats".  At this point I didn't think much about it, but as the week continued he kept pointing things out to me and to his little sister.  I thought about it, usually when he stares out a window or looks around his environment he is "inside" his head...in his own world.  Now he was noticing the world around him.  When we got home from grandmas house we were playing in his room, a room that we redecorated months ago in an outer space theme, and he says "My outer space room is really cool!".  He then begins to look at specific decorations and talking to me about them.  When he had first seen his room after my husband and I had redecorated it he said "Wow, I like it" and that was the end.  He never mentioned his room again.  I think he just didn't notice his room.  It is truly like a fog has lifted from him and he can see his world clearly.  I can't even begin to imagine what that must be like, but I'm so happy that he's finally getting to enjoy all the little things that we sometimes take for granted.