Today we did it, Smoochie and I. We started a brand new therapy program. Well, I took him and he received the therapy. I'm praying, and paying, for it. It costs a $100 an hour. They wanted to put him in at 40 hours a week. Pull him out of school and just do 40 hours of therapy. All day, every day, just like a job.
I guess conquering autism is like a job. Paperwork, repetition, being told what to do just like when you have a boss. That seems like a lot of work for a little boy. But I want him to learn to read, and write, and talk. And to want to do other things than to watch the same cartoon over, and over, and over, again.
I want some of those dreams back that were vaporized when the words "he has autism" were uttered for the first time. When you are holding that beautiful, perfect, minutes old baby and you think, "this one will conquer the world". You never in a million years think this one won't be able to stand the sights of this world, or bear the sounds of this world, or hate the feel of even the softest cotton on his body. That he needs to propel his body through time and space at break neck speed because that helps him know where his hands are. I'm taking a leap of faith that this therapy can help with those things. Help ease the pain and intensity of being in our world so he can learn to participate in it. Even if it will be like another job....
Today was the first day of a different path. It was a leap of faith that it isn't a mistake, a colossal waste of money, and that we both can get to understand each other's world.
Our Lady of Good Council, pray for us!
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