When Life Gives you Lemons

So here's a story. Let's say the day is, um, I don't know, today. You bring the Kid to daycare and you drop him off and you get handed a letter. Now you know, after the last conversation with the daycare, that you have to go to the diagnostic centre and get your kid analysed, and you've, like, told them you are seeing a child therapist to get a referral, seeing the child therapist, once again might I add. And that you will do what you can to label your child as soon as possible and then you leave the daycare and you start to read the letter. The letter contains about 4 paragraphs citing how screwed up your kid is because, you know, he looks up and stares at a plane overhead like 5 TIMES IN 2 HOURS. Or, he wipes his face with his arm because he has a cold. Or, or, or, he ignores the stranger who is analysing him for the very first time. The stranger who apparently is the in-house child specialist. And then you finish the letter and you get to the end and on the bottom left corner it reads "Suspicion of Aspergers." Now take a moment and think how that feels. Take a deep breath. Then read that again. "Suspicion of Aspergers."

I will tell you that this mother broke down. Broke down in big gulping sobs. She walked back home and felt the need to vomit. Her world was crashing down. This mother went online and Googled everything about Aspergers. Messaged her mother. And then she got her shit together and went to the therapist as planned and walked in and broke down again. She showed her awesome child therapist (who has been an amazing support system) the letter. The therapist looked at it and pretty much was outraged and I'm paraphrasing here "Who does this other woman think she is to make such a remark that she suspects Aspergers when she has only spent 2.5 hours with him? Did she talk and sit with you and your husband before this? No? How unbelievable!" She was not impressed and then this mother wanted to take her hand and say "Run away with me. I will make you so happy."

I cannot begin to tell you how much it helped to hear this. I went from devastation to anger pretty quickly and suddenly I was like "Yeah! Who does this woman think she is? She better bring it because I am going to take out her knees! Yeah!" and then I turned to the therapist and said "You. You're very good." And I left with a smile on my face. In the interim, the fabulous therapist has sent me contacts to contact and we are going to go all Bionic child and we will get the best of the BEST to determine that he, while loud and emotional, is most likely normal. My heart cannot take this any longer. And you know what, if he does have Aspergers, who cares. But how about we do this the good old fashioned way and get real professionals involved. Capiche?

And so my friends, that is my story. I am eternally grateful for the universe giving me that letter on the same day I was meeting the therapist. Someone out there cares. And you know what? Sometimes angels come in the form of awesome Icelandic therapists.