Yes, autism does change things, doesn't it? You go in to the pediatric specialist with your 3-year-old who's "a little delayed", and a few hours later, you come back out with a 3-year-old with autism. Wow. Where'd the sun go? Are those storm clouds in the distance? Boy, did it get chilly fast!
I knew nothing about autism when Zac "got his papers". Remember, this was 1992. Autism had not become the high profile disability it is today. (Yes, we were ahead of the curve!) The internet was not as available as it is now, so I couldn't click my way to knowledge. Barnes and Noble had 3 -- count 'em -- 3 books on their shelves dealing with autism, and they were not encouraging.
A well-meaning librarian where my husband worked gave him a file full of xeroxed articles and studies and research that I truly think made my hair stand on end. I combed those papers looking for the least little sign of encouragement and hope, and found very little. We contacted a support group and were taken aback by the casual, easy manner of the woman who headed the group.
"How do you all deal with your kids, and this disability?" we asked.
"Oh, we use a lot of sick humor!" she told us.
Sick humor? We were sick, all right, but not with humor. More like shock, despair, anger. How could she sound so calm? Of course, years later, I understood perfectly where she was coming from. But we were far from jokes at that stage.
And so we scrambled around, trying to find out what to do next, who to see, where to go. We were at the beginning of a lifelong mission: to explore this strange, new world; to seek out our new life and new civilization; to boldly go where no parent should have to go!
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