A host of thanks

You know those days that you live and remember?  Those days that are forever etched in your memory because something made it stand out?

June 30, 2008 was a day like that for me.

Today will be a day like that for me.

Back in June 2008 we were invited to participate in a study near the U of U.  Called the Each Child Study, it was looking for children born in 2006 who may have developmental delays.  Earlier in the year (May or so), my kids just happened to get sick.  I just happened to take them into the pediatrician.  The dr's office just happened to have a survey for parents to fill out that day.  Buddy Boy qualified for the study based on the survey results, and the rest is history.  We were told he was on the Autism Spectrum.  They told us that they were not making a diagnosis, but that we needed to get that taken care of, because he met the criteria for it.

That day I mourned for the loss of my son.  Oh sure, they told me that "he's still the same child.  Nothing has changed." 

But everything had changed.  I'd lost my son.  I'd lost the future I'd imagined for him.  He was a stranger to me, a child who had AUTISM. 

Of course, as time went by, I realized how accurate their words had been.  I realized how WRONG I was.  My boy, my sweet boy, was still the same child.  We'd been thrown on a path I didn't want to be on, but one that we needed to be on.  That meeting with the kind individuals from the Each Child Study changed the course of our family's lives.

And now they are finishing up their multi-year study.  It's time for another evaluation, this time with an official diagnosis.  Buddy Boy has made huge strides.   He's come SO FAR, and it's due to the good people at the Each Child Study.  For the support they showed me.  For the pages and pages of resources available to me.  For all of it.  And so, I have to say a big thank you:

To Terisa Gabrielsen and Michele Villalobos for the unbelievable amount of empathy and concern they showed me when Buddy Boy was first diagnosed.  Terisa talked to me and calmed me down before allowing me to drive home.  She later called to make sure I'd gotten home okay.

To Tonya who, upon hearing our news, brought me over two BRAND NEW Baby Signing Time DVD's.  These are the salvation for my son.  He has learned to communicate because of these, and I'll be forever grateful.

To Collette for kidnapping my kids (against my will initially, but it worked out wonderfully) and giving Clay and I a night to ourselves to just relax.

To the ward friends who make so many efforts to reach out, to understand, and to involve Buddy Boy as much as possible.

To Michelle and Reggie for buying us our first book discussing a parent's journey in helping her son with his Autism diagnosis.

To Mae, who sat on the phone for HOURS with me listening to me cry and rant the day he was diagnosed.

To Timmy, who in his quiet way, offered support so thoroughly by helping us out financially during a time of struggle.

To my Mom, who never stopped working on my son, who continued to love him and try to get him to love her back.  I'm happy to report that he LOVES Grandma and sings about her all the time:-)

To Marilyn C, who gave us another book about a child's experiences, and also contacted us about different events the U hosted that would be helpful to all of us.

To Zildy and Sarah Jones, who were such a HUGE support system to Munchkin.  It's hard for a big sister to have to share the spotlight, and extra hard when the younger sibling gets tons of extra attention due to a condition.  Going to many playdates and having a lot of friends around helped her a whole lot!

To Marilyn B, who gave us a sports trampoline so that Buddy Boy could get some vestibular sensory integration at home.

To SO MANY OTHERS, who have supported us in no small ways.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  These past 2 years have been tough.  But through it all, I knew that we had the support system available when needed.

Oh, and by the way, it's official:  My son has Autism.  I was clinging really hard to the PDD diagnosis, but it's not what is to happen.  The difference between this eval and the other?  I know that my son is not lost to me.  I do not mourn for what was "meant to be".  It's a tough pill to swallow, but it's one I know I can, indeed swallow, and deal with.  Because no matter what, my buddy boy will always be that:  MY Buddy Boy.