Times of Transition

For years we have worked with our daughter as she has struggled at school. She flourished academically but interacting with other students was a sore spot for her. It has pained me to watch her interactions with her peers. She always seemed to be on the outside of the social arena, sometimes peeking in, more often though she wandered away to be by herself. I’ve often referred to her as my “loner” or “wanderer”, my “daydreamer” or my little “woodland nymph” because she seemed to feel more comfortable on her own in the woods behind our home than she was playing with the neighbors or her siblings.

I’ll never forget the day that I spoke to her about paying attention in class, “Your teacher says that you seem to have a hard time paying attention; that you’re daydreaming a lot lately.”

She hotly responded, “She’s lying! I’m not dreaming, Mom–I’m WIDE AWAKE!”

My sensitive little flower took things so literally, and often to heart. At school she went to the counselor to get some tips on “making better choices” by using the Kelso Wheel. Initially, we did see some progress and she seemed to gain confidence. After a few weeks she had regressed and was melting into puddles of tears daily from the verbal bullying of a bossy classmate.

As a parent I have often felt overwhelmed by a feeling most easily described as failure. Obviously, my little girl was struggling to make friends. She lacked what most would call common sense, even for her age. She was prone to fits of nearly inconsolable tears. Throughout her early school years something as simple as the flush of a toilet in a public restroom would terrify her to the point of near hysteria. A bit of a conspiracy theorist–she thought everyone sought to insult her. She could bore someone like no other; as Marilla Cuthbert once said of Anne Shirley, “She could talk the hind leg off a mule”, all while staring at her shuffling feet. I felt like I had done an incredible disservice to my child. Had I coddled her too much? Had I been too strict with her? Had I not taught her manners ?  Too many computer games? Not enough social interaction? Where had I gone wrong? Could I correct my actions, adjust her upbringing and salvage her frail feelings before the rigors of middle school and high school arrive?

After years of questions, last week we received one answer. One answer that opens the doors to many answers… to a whole new world of possibility for our little nymph. Our daughter was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome. In the days since her diagnosis we’ve already heard from people who “knew it all along” (these are also the people that “have known for months!” when a woman announces she’s pregnant and in her first trimester). We’ve encountered people who were aghast and recommended a second opinion. People who have consoled us with well-meaning words of encouragement like, “She’ll outgrow it” or “It’s just a phase”. Some have looked at our daughter’s diagnosis like a death sentence. I look at it like a light at the end of the tunnel. A very long, very dark tunnel. This has given us hope. AS kids can respond rather positively with therapy. They can integrate into social circles with greater ease after learning how to decipher things like body language and other social cues. Something as simple as learning the meaning of common gestures can give someone with AS an incredible boost to their confidence.

We received a wonderful book in the mail yesterday, Can I Tell You About Asperger Syndrome? A Guide for Friends and Family by Jude Welton. After reading it I sat down with our daughter and explained a little bit about Asperger Syndrome and asked her to read the book. It’s a quick read and half an hour later she came downstairs, book in hand, with tears in her eyes. Frankly, I was worried. When I asked her why she was crying she replied, “I’m just so happy, Mom. I finally found someone else that thinks just like me. This is just a Really.Good.Book.” For the next twenty minutes she battled a lump in her throat and a quivering chin. The tears spilled out of her beautiful brown eyes several times and she asked to read the book again. She’s read it three times since and even tried to sneak it to school in her backpack this morning.

To the dear friend who purchased this book and had it mailed to us, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU. Through everything, God has been faithful. I am looking forward to the wonderful things that the future holds for our shining star.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Boy Mom Blogger
    Dec 15, 2011 @ 17:30:44

    wow – great emotional post. thanks for sharing! so glad your friend sent you that book and now perhaps you can even help others…


  2. Mary Lou Krause
    Dec 16, 2011 @ 13:13:20

    No, AS is not a death sentence. We all process things differently.Your sweet little girl just processes things in a different way then most children do. Now, that you know her problem you can get the tools to help her along her way to a successful life journey. For a child to know that there are other people that are the way they are to know how it feels does help a great deal. In some ways, I think it relieves them to know they aren’t alone.
    You have not failed as a parent. I believe God gives these precious gifts to special people. I believe good things are in sight for daughter!
    Also, I think that expressing your ups and downs of this new journey in this blog is a wonderful idea. Maybe link in with an AS website


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