Wednesday, 26 June 2013

A Mother's Story


Look at this picture, the mama protects her little ones. Likewise, so do we. Mothers of children with special needs are like her. Tender and loving to our little ones, but we can tear you into pieces too. Here is a story of a loving mother, she shares her experience in her own words.
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My son has Aspergers.

Such a simple statement but it has impacted our lives so much. I have avoided writing this, pushing it all the way to the end of my TO-DO list for the last month because truly, sometimes even thinking about it can hurt. It is like opening a can of worms. I fell into a deep dark hole when we first found out about him and it took me a very long time to crawl out of it and just live again. So I was not too keen to revisit those “dark hole” years.

In this short entry, I will write about the early years after discovering my son’s condition – the struggle and the reactions from those around us and also the strategies we used to help him - and ourselves.

When I use the term ‘us’, I am referring to my husband and I. When we found out we were pregnant shortly after the wedding more than a decade ago, I was overwhelmed. I was fresh out of university, just started my first job and just married a stranger (mine was an arranged marriage haha!). So when my precious little one was born, amidst the flurry of managing a new job, new marriage, new house, new set of family members and new everything, I did not really pay much attention as to whether he was developing according to a neurotypical’s developmental milestones. 

When he did not seem to like my cuddles, I thought maybe I was not touching him right. When he still did not talk at 18 months, my in-laws said boys develop speech later, so – OK. However, when he was still walking on tiptoes at 30 months and he had huge tantrums over something as minor (to me, at least) as the weather or food texture, I hit the jam break. I have heard of the ‘Terrible Two’, but I could sense that something was not really right. And true enough, I soon got a call from the day care centre which I have enrolled him in just a couple of months earlier. Apparently, he had been displaying ‘certain odd behaviours’ in class, e.g. walking around the classroom, disinterested in lessons, rolling and pressing himself against the floor, licking the chalkboard and refusing the food offered during breaks – escalating into screaming fits if the food contained chopped fruits and vegetables. They thought he just needed adjusting but it had been three months and they said the staff could not handle him. So they told me to withdraw him.

I think that was the turning point for me. I began really observing him and reading up on a neurotypical’s developmental milestones, and that was when it dawned on that my little darling was not ‘normal’. As if coping with that was not difficult enough, the comments from others started coming in – ‘Why does he walk like that?’, ‘Why does he behave like that? You should teach your son to behave, you know.’ To cut a long story short, I did not know what to do with my adorable little gem. I became depressive, quit my job and cut off all contacts except with my mother. I could remember one very low point during that period when I was alone at home with him, trying to manage a tantrum. I was so frustrated with him that I just packed my little monster into a carton box in a bid to contain him. Yes, I was crazy and desperate. And yes, I tore up the box and took him out the very next minute.

Anyway, after the initial drama, thank goodness my mum and the never-say-die part of me eventually took charge. We consulted a pediatrician who worked with us to manage my little sweetheart. At that point, no specific diagnosis was made but the doctor identified issues that he was having, primarily sensory and social ones. (The diagnosis was only made when my son was six, as we were debating whether he should be in mainstream or a special school. Anyway, the final diagnosis was mild Aspergers so he is now in mainstream.) He was aversive to many textures, especially furry, hairy and woolly ones. And he had vestibular issues. He got cranky and started getting nausea when in moving vehicles or when taking rides. And yes, he basically lives in a world of his own. At about three years old, he could already talk but he still pulled at my hand to get my attention. And he showed no inclination to interact with his peers of the same age.

The doctor referred us to a slew of support services and in the end, I chose to focus on occupational therapy (OT) for his sensory issues and social play groups with two different centres to encourage social interaction. We also placed him in a day care facility which was equipped with the trained professionals to manage children with special needs. When he was five, I also embarked him on the Kumon journey. I know that not everyone is a Kumon fan. I just felt that their learning style suited my son. It was very structured and time-controlled, the steps are very systematic and predictable and the repetitive practices helped to reinforce his learning. Also, Kumon helped prepare him for the eventual school syllabus so that he already has a preview of the content to be taught prior to the topic being taught in class. Believe me, it helped tremendously with his self-confidence. Beyond all these sessions, based on the recommendations of the OT and teachers, we also engaged in external activities to help him generalize the skills he acquired during the school and therapy sessions. So lots of experimentation with different textures of food, clothing and tactile materials. And loads of vestibular stimulation in the form of rides in amusement parks and in cars, buses and planes even. And when he grew older, we started him on social stories and social scripts to help him along with his interaction with his peers. Visual schedules work great to help him structure his day and to promote predictability. We used to have it on cards and notebooks for him but when he grew older and got a bit self-conscious about his schedules, we recently got him a handphone so that he can have his schedule in the handphone. More age- and socially-appropriate, we thought. Recently, he told us he has a best friend. I was ecstatic. I mean – my ‘live in my own world and talk all day about my LEGO and World War II obsessions’ son, has a best friend?! WOW! 

So during one of the school events when we were in his school, he introduced his best friend to us and I could have hugged that wonderful boy for giving my son a chance at friendship. Well, there are hiccups. My son tells me that some days, he is more comfortable texting rather than talking directly to his friend so they text to each other even when they are face to face sometimes. Oh well – I guess we can work on that.
 
So you see, we were in denial for quite some time, but for the last few years, we learnt to accept - with a good understanding of his condition, being kind and tolerant – not just with him but also with ourselves and with others, and we used humour - in a kind way. I sometimes teased him that he is taking up my talk time when he talks non-stop about his World War II stuff and I still offer him hugs and do not get upset when he does not return or does not seem to want it. But every time he returns a hug, which is becoming more often these days, my heart melts. 

I also think it is important to have realistic expectations. My son will sit for the PSLE next year. My husband and I have had discussions with him on his grades and together, we have set high but realistic, achievable goals for his PSLE. This is because, even as I make accommodations for his special needs, I need him to know that he cannot and should not use his condition as an excuse to not push himself to greater heights and excel. 

I do all these because I will eventually move to my next stage of intervention with him – empowerment. We will all die someday. So before that time comes, I need my young man to not only be able to manage himself, but to eventually be independent and empowered enough to lead  a meaningful life, even when I am no longer with him. This may sound cliché but I want my son to not see the disabilities, but to be thankful for his abilities and celebrate and capitalise on those. And that is the same mind-set that I carry with me in my work with special needs now. I mean, God made all of us unique and wonderful, didn’t He? So we should likewise carry on with his work and let the world see what wonderful beings our individuals with special needs are. Yep, they truly are a WONDER.

Thank you.

Special thanks to this beautifully-spirited mum, who chose to share her heartwarming story with all of us. She chooses to remain anonymous, as she blesses us with her story.

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