Year Six – Ten Years of Motherhood

Three children meant we had more children then the majority of our friends. Three children and people make comments, ‘You must have your hands full.’ Three children meant a new stage in parenthood. Enter the mini van. I won’t deny it but I LOVE my Mom van. There was no sense of ‘cool’ in me at any time in my life so I didn’t feel a loss of my old life. I loved the space. The ability to spread everyone out so no one could touch each other (less fighting!).

Having daughter was like having an ally. I won’t deny I had fun dressing her, putting bows on her, buying her dolls. Kathleen was snuggly and delightfully girlish. When my boys would horrify me with worms they brought in the house, she would balance life with hugging her dolls.

I read articles on not forcing our kids to be the stereotypical ‘boys’ or ‘girls’ , felt guilt when I realized I only bought pink for her and then I shook my head. She was happy. I was happy. There were many years ahead that she could choose her clothes and tell me what she liked and didn’t like and for now I was revelling in her dainty pink frills.

Peter had started school and Josh and I held our breathes. We worried, he seemed so young  but we were reassured.  We had only mastered potty training weeks before kindergarten had started. He had only shed the beloved binky a few months prior. He loved going, he loved the friends and recess. The mornings were rough, after school was rough. Lots of tears, lots of tantrums. Many days I couldn’t get him to leave the van and we would return home with him.

Finally a diagnosis of autism. There was nothing more heartbreaking then having a doctor tell you that your child is not perfect. Broken. There was something not working in his brain. We were in denial and went to another doctor, a specialist and received the same diagnosis.

As a parent we mourned. We mourned what we though was a lost future. We mourned the scary unknowns we were now facing. Even though we had suspected there was something, hearing the official words was life altering. It was also a breath of relief. We were bad parents, we were not over exaggerating, we had been coping.