What They Forgot to Mention

[Guest guest]

What They Forgot to Mention

Although I was expecting hardship, I found surprising joy in my autistic son.

By Sandy Sotzen

I remember the day of my son's diagnosis of autism as if it were yesterday. The

tone of

the doctor's voice, the silence in the room, the words " lifelong disability, no

cure, I'm

sorry " still sting when I allow myself to reflect on that day. But I have paused

on occasions

too numerous to count and thought, Someone should've mentioned that this would

be

part of the package when my child was diagnosed with autism. Someone forgot to

mention that I would listen to my child's simple utterances or attempted

approximations

as if he was a world leader giving the speech of a lifetime. I could never have

imagined the

worth of a single word despite the fact that I may never hear it again.

Someone forgot to mention that when my son was finally potty-trained at age

nine, there

would be few people who could understand the significance of such an

accomplishment,

and even fewer with whom I could actually share it. Accomplishments of any size,

their

true worth known only to me, would bring quiet celebrations between my son and

me.

Someone should've mentioned that autism is messy! Wallpaper's meant to be

shredded,

bathrooms are designed to be flooded, walls are bare in order to smear stuff on

them,

washable paint really isn't, and more food will actually be crushed and dropped

than

eaten.

I wish someone would've mentioned that autism is extremely expensive! doctors,

therapists, medications, supplements, conferences, and sensory equipment are

only the

tip of the iceberg. I could not have guessed that my child's disability would

allow people

to cross our path in life who otherwise would not have, and that such people

would

willingly respond to a child in need.

Someone should have mentioned that each time a child with autism initiates or

engages in

a reciprocal hug, that feeling that you had when you held him for the first time

comes

back time and time again.

And they forgot to mention the day my son was diagnosed with autism that the

triumphs

over this disability would far outweigh the tears, that laughter would

eventually ease the

sense of loss, and that sheer faith would allow me and millions of other parents

to fall into

bed exhausted each night, only to get up the next day eager to discover what

else they

forgot to mention.

[Guest guest]

where is this from. is it okay for me to print it and hand out at a presentation

I am giving on autism ??

Diane

dvmurrell@...

upupnawaywme wrote:

What They Forgot to Mention

Although I was expecting hardship, I found surprising joy in my autistic son.

By Sandy Sotzen

I remember the day of my son's diagnosis of autism as if it were yesterday. The

tone of

the doctor's voice, the silence in the room, the words " lifelong disability, no

cure, I'm

sorry " still sting when I allow myself to reflect on that day. But I have paused

on occasions

too numerous to count and thought, Someone should've mentioned that this would

be

part of the package when my child was diagnosed with autism. Someone forgot to

mention that I would listen to my child's simple utterances or attempted

approximations

as if he was a world leader giving the speech of a lifetime. I could never have

imagined the

worth of a single word despite the fact that I may never hear it again.

Someone forgot to mention that when my son was finally potty-trained at age

nine, there

would be few people who could understand the significance of such an

accomplishment,

and even fewer with whom I could actually share it. Accomplishments of any size,

their

true worth known only to me, would bring quiet celebrations between my son and

me.

Someone should've mentioned that autism is messy! Wallpaper's meant to be

shredded,

bathrooms are designed to be flooded, walls are bare in order to smear stuff on

them,

washable paint really isn't, and more food will actually be crushed and dropped

than

eaten.

I wish someone would've mentioned that autism is extremely expensive! doctors,

therapists, medications, supplements, conferences, and sensory equipment are

only the

tip of the iceberg. I could not have guessed that my child's disability would

allow people

to cross our path in life who otherwise would not have, and that such people

would

willingly respond to a child in need.

Someone should have mentioned that each time a child with autism initiates or

engages in

a reciprocal hug, that feeling that you had when you held him for the first time

comes

back time and time again.

And they forgot to mention the day my son was diagnosed with autism that the

triumphs

over this disability would far outweigh the tears, that laughter would

eventually ease the

sense of loss, and that sheer faith would allow me and millions of other parents

to fall into

bed exhausted each night, only to get up the next day eager to discover what

else they

forgot to mention.

[Guest guest]

Our In Home Trainer sent this to me. She told me that she got it from a group

she is on

and that as long as the author is listed, it is fine to use it as a handout.

Daphne

> What They Forgot to Mention

> Although I was expecting hardship, I found surprising joy in my autistic son.

> By Sandy Sotzen

>

> I remember the day of my son's diagnosis of autism as if it were yesterday.

The tone of

> the doctor's voice, the silence in the room, the words " lifelong disability,

no cure, I'm

> sorry " still sting when I allow myself to reflect on that day. But I have

paused on

occasions

> too numerous to count and thought, Someone should've mentioned that this would

be

> part of the package when my child was diagnosed with autism. Someone forgot to

> mention that I would listen to my child's simple utterances or attempted

approximations

> as if he was a world leader giving the speech of a lifetime. I could never

have imagined

the

> worth of a single word despite the fact that I may never hear it again.

>

> Someone forgot to mention that when my son was finally potty-trained at age

nine,

there

> would be few people who could understand the significance of such an

accomplishment,

> and even fewer with whom I could actually share it. Accomplishments of any

size, their

> true worth known only to me, would bring quiet celebrations between my son and

me.

>

> Someone should've mentioned that autism is messy! Wallpaper's meant to be

shredded,

> bathrooms are designed to be flooded, walls are bare in order to smear stuff

on them,

> washable paint really isn't, and more food will actually be crushed and

dropped than

> eaten.

>

> I wish someone would've mentioned that autism is extremely expensive! doctors,

> therapists, medications, supplements, conferences, and sensory equipment are

only the

> tip of the iceberg. I could not have guessed that my child's disability would

allow people

> to cross our path in life who otherwise would not have, and that such people

would

> willingly respond to a child in need.

>

> Someone should have mentioned that each time a child with autism initiates or

engages

in

> a reciprocal hug, that feeling that you had when you held him for the first

time comes

> back time and time again.

>

> And they forgot to mention the day my son was diagnosed with autism that the

triumphs

> over this disability would far outweigh the tears, that laughter would

eventually ease the

> sense of loss, and that sheer faith would allow me and millions of other

parents to fall

into

> bed exhausted each night, only to get up the next day eager to discover what

else they

> forgot to mention.

>

>

>

>

>

>

>