Thursday, April 19, 2007
The Diagnosis
You find yourself sitting across from a professional, who just spent 2 hours “evaluating” your child. Words are uttered, a diagnosis you prayed you would not hear. In your heart, you new this was possible, maybe even probable, but having a professional validate your deepest fears is an experience you will never forget.
“Autism, your son has autism”. Like the vortex that forms at the drain in your bathtub, you feel the air being sucked from your lungs. The room begins to spin and a pain greater than you have ever felt in the past holds your heart in a death grip.
You feel yourself falling backward, as if to remove yourself from this stranger, this professional that has delivered the worse news you have ever received. You want to run to your baby, hold him tight in your arms, press your face against his warm sweet neck and feel his long curls on your face.
Run with him! Run as fast as you can! Maybe if you run fast enough, drive far enough the words will be left far behind. If you get as many miles possible between you and the professional, you will find a place where there is no “autism” no “cognitive delays”. A place where your child blossoms and flourishes and is loved by all…..Heaven.
Heaven. We will get there when the time is right. What do we do now, while waiting for heaven to come? Bake chocolate chip cookies with your children. Prepare for the upcoming camping trip. Laugh, love, play, pray, work, smile, learn, cuddle, kiss and laugh again. Life is good. God is great and your child is magnificent.
Cynthia's Cyberspace 
What say you?