What a difference a year makes! Happy 8th Birthday J ðŸŽ‚

My boy has now turned 8 and I wanted to mark the occasion by thinking about just how far he’s come in his 8 years on this planet. As well as how much of a challenge it has been for him along the way. He’s a remarkable boy in lots of ways. But hey, I’m sure every child is. J is remarkable because of everything he has achieved in spite of his disability, everything he tries even when it’s so much harder for him and for trying and succeeding despite some people writing him off from the outset.

J is mostly happy; he’s fun-loving, adventurous and full of mischief. He is very determined and he perseveres with things, when even the best of us would have long-since given up. Until recently J would have been classed as ‘non-verbal’ as he could not speak. This didn’t stop him showing us what he wanted though. Yes at times it was difficult to figure out but if he could see we didn’t know, he would simply choose another way to show us and keep on going until we worked it out. It must have been really frustrating for him to have to put up with us, the stupid verbal people who had no real idea about proper communication!

When he was younger we really struggled to make sure everything was right for him. We were finding our feet ourselves and having to engage in fight after fight with various people to get him what he needed or deserved. It was, and still is, exhausting at times.

We knew from fairly early on that J was not meeting his milestones. He didn’t sit up, crawl or copy facial gestures as he should. He didn’t goo or gaa, struggled with rolling over and was sick a lot! The doctors eventually put this down to low muscle tone in his core, amongst other issues. He walked without crawling and kept his little hands balled up into the tightest fists most of the time. When he was around 18 months he was referred to a joint assessment team with a physio, occupational therapist and a speech & language therapist. After a few months a programme was put in place to support his movement and he had visits from the OT and physio to support him.

When he was two I took him to a group for children with disabilities and we focused on movement, stories, songs and other fun ways to get the kids engaged. He attended a pre-three nursery placement to support his needs and it was wonderful, the ladies there just ‘got’ him and he was really loved and cared for.

J used to fall a lot and visited the doctor and hospital many times, once needing surgery under general anaesthetic to fix his torn lip 😢 He’s a resilient little boy though and he always bounced back, it never put him off. His awareness of danger is still not fully developed and we have to constantly on guard to keep him safe.

When it came time for him to go to proper nursery we had a big meeting in his pre-three place. I knew he had issues, but working in education and having seen how nursery provision was set up I was sure he would cope fine with the right support. The nursery he was set to go to, who had never even laid eyes on him, were determined this was not the case. They made it clear that they didn’t want him and the message I got consistently from them was that they were unwilling, rather than unable, to meet his needs. They assumed that because he couldn’t speak he could not do anything. His end of year report reflected how little they knew him or had even tried to understand him. His major achievement for the year being that he could ‘bang a drum with support’! I didn’t even bother to ask them what kind of support you need to give someone to bang a drum.

During that year he was diagnosed with Autism, though we already knew this was the case before we got the official confirmation. After this we applied to send him to a specialist nursery who were more able to meet his needs, not least because they were more willing to try. It was a great year for him and he flourished.

After a fight to get him the most suitable placement he moved on to school. I’m so glad I had that fight. His school is a wonderful place, so positive and full of energy. The children are given so many opportunities and they celebrate success loudly and proudly. It’s a unique place, I have never seen anywhere quite like it. You can feel the energy when you walk in the door. J is happy there and he has come on in leaps and bounds. To begin with he used non-verbal communication; pointing, showing, etc. Then he started using PECS which uses a set of pictures in an exchange process to communicate needs and wants. He has also learned Makaton and can show us many signs (though my own ability limits how much of this I can understand – mostly only what I’ve watched on Mr Tumble!)

As a result of all of these opportunities and down to his own hard work and determination, J can also now use many words in context. Some of these are repeated phrases from his tv programmes or the you tube cartoons he watches (known as echolalia). Others are words he has heard from other people. A lot of what he says is down to his own interests and he often won’t repeat something if you don’t hear it or ask him to tell someone else. Not everything he says is clear, sometimes we still don’t understand, but it’s amazing how far he has come!

His development and all he has achieved are testament to his resilience and capability. He rarely gives up. J is very clever, he knows so much about many things. Since before he went to school he knew numbers beyond 20 and could show you every letter of the alphabet when you asked him to point them out. He knew all of his colours and shapes too. Saying them out loud was not something he was able to do but he knew them and it was really just about finding out how we could help him to show us what he knew.

So to you; my beautiful, clever, funny, loving, adventurous, mischievous, amazing eight year old; happy birthday! Enjoy celebrating and being the centre of attention. Be sure to get everyone to sing the song over and over again and keep getting the candle re-lit to blow it out. Make everyone clap and cheer, enjoying the big smile it puts on your face and the joy that shines out in your eyes and your flapping hands from the excitement. It’s your day and you’ve earned that right. You’ve come so far and learned so much. You’ve grown into a wonderful boy who brings lots of happiness to us and you have taught us so much in your life. You’ve taught me to be grateful, to celebrate the little things, to keep going when things are hard and to never underestimate people. Most of all you have shown me that I can also be a strong and determined person when I need to be, that I do have that little bit more fight in me even when I think I’ve used it all up and that I can achieve things others might doubt of me if I just go ahead and do it anyway!

I have so much to thank you for and all of this is only the tip of the iceberg. You have helped me to become the person I am, the mum I am, the teacher I am and to keep on pushing through the hard times. For someone so young, you have shown so many people so many things. I often worry about your future and who will be around to take care of you when we are not. It keeps me awake at times. Then I see how far you’ve come already and it renews my hope. I hope you will continue to flourish, you will continue to find that joy in the little things, you will be able to keep that happy innocence and that one day you will show the world just how much you can do!

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Would you change things if you had the chance?

Is it possible to grieve for a child who is alive? To wonder and miss the life you thought they would have but can’t?

I see a lot of posts saying that people wouldn’t change their child and that autism is part of who they are. They say that given the chance, they would have their child exactly as they are. I admire these people and I really wish I could share their sense of peace with the status quo or their wish to keep things as they are. If I’m honest, if I could take away J’s autism I would.

Is it wrong to think of and be sad for the person you thought your child would or could become? For the potential that will never be realised and the future that is so drastically different from the one you envisioned when thinking of having children? Is it awful to wish it could have been different and that events had taken a different turn? These thoughts have me very conflicted. On one hand I know I am lucky. Lucky to have him and to know him, to see all that he achieves in spite of his difficulties, to see how hard he tries and how much he perseveres. On the other hand I look back at his birth and the issues surrounding it that I hold responsible for the issues he now has. I wish that none of that had happened and that he could be living a ‘normal’ life, free from the burden put upon him by his disabilities. A life like his brother and sister can have, albeit restricted for now by the need to support J as we do.

I know I’m lucky he lived through it and survived to come out the other side of his birth and post birth experiences. Someone once said to me that if he had died we would have grieved and moved on from it but this way we are trapped in a constant grief for what could have been, always wondering if things could have been different. I was horrified by this thought. Of course I would never have wished the alternative. He’s a miracle and amazes me every day. I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to imagine a life without him. He’s taught me so much and I still tell myself that it all happens for a reason, though sometimes I find it hard to understand that reason.

I often find myself worrying about what the future holds for J and how he will cope or be looked after when we are no longer around. I worry about how people will treat him out in the big bad world and how he will deal with this. I wonder if he will ever be able to have a job or to live by himself. If he will ever meet someone and fall I love. If he can’t will he know what he’s missing out on and how will this affect him?

I love J so much, I love who he is and his personality. I love his little quirks and that way he smiles at me when he’s up to no good and hoping I will either not notice or just let him away with it! I can’t actually imagine him being any other way than he is.

Why then do I have these other thoughts? The ones where I wish he didn’t have he start in life that he did? The ones where he doesn’t have a global developmental delay or autism or speech difficulties? I read often on the subject of autism awareness and acceptance and many people very eloquently advocate for acceptance of people just as they are. They say they wouldn’t change their children even if they could. I am all for this and believe that we should all accept people as they are. I am an advocate of being kind, always. I fight for my child and his needs and his rights. I find out what’s good, what’s needed and I seek to get it for him. I accept J as he is, for the person he is and I love him unconditionally for it. Does this mean I can’t wish he didn’t have his difficulties?

If I’m completely honest I would take away his autism if I could. Not for me or for anyone else out there but for J and the potential he’s missing out on, for his future and the opportunities he could have, for his present and the difficulties he faces and for his past and the struggles he’s had to overcome. I would take it all away in a second because I’m his mum and it’s my job to make his passage through this life as easy and good as it can be. It’s my job to look after him and give him the best opportunities and chances I can. If I had he chance to change all of that for him then of course I would. It doesn’t mean I love him any less as he is, it doesn’t mean I don’t accept him for who he is and love his little personality. It means I’m able to accept my son as he is, to love and support him in the life he currently has but that given the chance to take away his struggles I would do it in a heartbeat. Why then do I feel so guilty for the thoughts of the life that could have been?

I suppose then that in answer to my question I would mostly like to change the start to life J had. I would like him to be less frustrated by being able to communicate his needs. I would like him to not be overwhelmed by the world around him at times and to know how to cope with his worries in a less stressful way for him.

I wouldn’t want to change his loving, smiling, fun and caring personality. I wouldn’t want to change how much he loves me and how often he shows me this. I wouldn’t want to take away his innocence in how he sees things and the wonder he gets from even the littlest of things at times. I sometimes wish I could see the world through his eyes and capture the raw joy in what he experiences.

Would taking away his autism change these other things? I don’t really think so. Autism is a part of who J is but it’s not the whole. He is so much more than his autism, so capable and resilient in spite of the difficulties and challenges it throws at him. Maybe having these challenges helps to shape in into the little character he is but when I see him distressed and in full meltdown mode I can’t help but wish it was different for him.

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Sometimes I just don’t understand. 

J has come so far with communication. He tries so hard to let us know what he wants or needs. If we don’t understand, he always tries another way to tell or show us what he’s trying to say. This makes it all the harder to take when we simply cannot work out what he’s trying to ask. There are sometimes when, no matter how hard we try to work it out and no matter how much he perseveres in getting his message across, we simply can’t understand. It’s frustrating for us, so I can’t imagine how frustrating it must be for J.

We have tried many approaches to support communication and help him to share his thoughts and ideas, as well as to develop his understanding and ability to listen. We have read numerous articles, attended courses, gone to meetings and workshops in his school, read books on the topic and tried out several approaches to support and develop how we all communicate. Some have been more successful than others. We have tried many things; More than Words, PECS, photo visuals, routine visuals, speech therapy; too many to mention.

I think this makes it harder to take when we still can’t meet his needs because we can’t understand what he is asking. As J gets bigger, his frustration is shown in different ways too. Sometimes he can react well and just move on to something else. At other times, he becomes distressed and cries. On a few occasions he has thrown things or tried to hit. This worries me. He’s not normally violent and we have counted ourselves lucky that this is the case. I really hope that this doesn’t change.

So, what’s the point of this post? I suppose I’m thinking out loud a little and also hoping someone might have experience of this and a successful way of tackling it. If there’s anything we haven’t tried already, which could help us understand when we run out of things to try, we would be willing to give it a try. All suggestions welcome.

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Autism and Behaviour

As J gets older we notice quite big changes in his behaviour. Obviously these things happen for any child as they grow and develop. Their bodies change, their minds change and they form opinions and ideas of their own. All children need support and encouragement to deal with these changes and help them to manage their feelings and behaviour appropriately.

Part of the difficulty we have is knowing just how much J understands. My feeling is that his Autism is not an excuse to allow him to behave in any way he wants. We still have a responsibility to show him the right way, to help him calm his emotions and to choose nicer ways to deal with his he feels. He may take a little longer to understand it and need to be shown more often but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying. He will become and adult and we wouldn’t be doing our duty as parents if we didn’t give him the skills to enable him to function in the world. If he doesn’t develop the ability to deal with his feelings and to manage his reactions, he will not know how to deal with other adults and this could end up getting him into a lot of trouble!

Lately he has become a bit more ‘stubborn’ as his teacher puts it. I’m sure it’s her nicer way of saying he is just being awkward and refusing to do certain things! We have found this at home too. He says ‘bup’ whin means no and lifts his shoulder whilst turning away from us, or shaking his head and raising his hand. He takes things from his brother, sister and cousins more often than before and refuses to hive them back. He has started to hit out at times and refuses to say sorry. At times I think it correlates with his mood. If he’s tired or ‘hangry’ it is definitely worse. Sometimes he thinks he’s playing and he takes it too far.

We are trying to find good ways to deal with this new behaviour. We don’t think finger-wagging, nagging or shouting will help. If we speak sternly he has started telling us to ‘shut up’! A phrase he must have learned elsewhere. He’s still non-verbal and uses random phrases he hears at times. This is not a phrase we want to encourage! The question then is, what should we do now? We are trying to be patient, to correct his behaviour by letting him know it’s not the right thing, showing him other ways. His limited understanding and the need for repetition on a long-term basis make this a slow process. If anyone has any useful ideas or tried and tested tips I would really appreciate it!

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Do you ever feel judged?

Tonight on the way home from picking the kids up from my mums after work, I decided to pop into the pound shop with all three of my cherubs in tow. J had been asking (in his approximations of words) for the ‘pound shop’ since we got in the car. He loves having little toys that he can carry around in his hands when he’s doing other things. It was parents night for the two boys yesterday too and I decided I would let them choose a little toy and a sweet as a reward. I had thought about ignoring his requests but since he had been trying so hard to get me to understand his message I decided to give in.

How bad can it be? I asked myself. We will just be popping in for a few minutes and out again. B can hold W’s hand and I will hold J’s. I am now telling my stupid self that it can indeed be extremely bad. It will not go as smoothly as you think or hope. The kids will not follow all of the instructions you give and J will certainly not take kindly to having to hold your hand when he wants to run off on an adventure to find toys.

I reminded them all before we went in that they had to walk, stay close to me, not touch anything they weren’t buying and that they needed to use quiet voices when inside. I knew I was asking a lot but I hoped they would listen and not go completely mad. They did manage this for a short time. We walked in together and made our way towards the toys.

J was excited, bouncing as he walked and flapping his hands wildly. This immediately drew the attention of a girl who worked there. She stood and stared at him and then at me. I ignored her and walked on past and up to the toys. W chose a toy and J chose three. I asked him to put two down and just choose one. He shook his body, meaning no and started to walk away with all three. I gently reminded him to take just one and put the other two back. He shook again and turned away from me to run off. I took his hand and firmly told him to put two toys back.

At this point I noticed the girl had turned around and was watching us again. She had a look of slight annoyance on her face. I looked back at her, making eye contact, willing her to either look or go away. She didn’t. I took two of the toys from J and placed them back where he got them. We moved on to the craft items for B to make his selection. I had to hurry him along a bit as J was becoming impatient.

We headed for the sweet aisle. As we walked round the corner there was a big wedge of plastic lying on the floor and J accidentally kicked it with his foot, which sent it skidding along the tiles. At this point I heard a loud tut and turned to see the same girl now standing at the bottom off the aisle we were in, glaring at us and shaking her head. I loudly said ‘oh dear J be careful, you nearly tripped over that big piece of plastic that has been left lying in the middle of the floor’ and stared back at her. At this point I became quite annoyed. Had she been following us and watching us the whole time? Was it just a coincidence? What had we done that she found so distasteful?

All of the questions were going round in my head. Then I became quite indignant. The kids hadn’t been misbehaving. J was relatively good, pushing the limits a bit but fairly calm considering how he can be at times. I was also annoyed that she was behaving in the manner she was and very clearly passing judgment on us, with very little reason or knowledge of the full situation. We are as entitled to shop as anyone else. We weren’t making a mess, breaking things, running around or being overly noisy. We were buying quite a few things and despite it being a pound shop I had managed to spend over £20. I decided that I wasn’t cutting our trip short and leaving without some of the things we came in for, just because their shop assistant was ignorant to feelings and behaving in an unkind manner. I shook my head back at her and finished shopping.

When we got to the checkout she had been called over to serve to lessen the queue. I actually found myself hoping that we wouldn’t be served by her and even considered allowing someone else to go ahead of us if she became free first. Then I gave myself a shake and told myself I was being ridiculous to be upset like this by someone who means very little to us in the grand scheme of things. Why should I care what she thinks of us or how she behaves?

That’s the point though. I do still care. It upsets me that people feel that they are free to openly stand in judgement of me. That they think it’s ok to show their disapproval of my child and our situation. That they somehow think it’s ok to behave in a way that is so unkind. Would her reaction have been the same if she hadn’t seen J flapping and bouncing when we came in? He was doing it quietly and not getting in anyone’s way, it’s just a stim he has at times. She didn’t appear to be looking at my other two or disapproving of them.

Sometimes I wish I was brave enough, or confrontational enough, to have a word with these people. To tell them how inappropriate their behaviour is and how unwarranted their judgement is. I wish I could show them what it’s like to be us for a few hours, or just for one outing or shopping trip. To show them how hard it is for J and for me just to be there and do that. To let them feel the anxieties we have in the situation.

Again I look for the lesson or the positive to take from the situation. I realise I’m glad I didn’t make a scene or say anything. It was better just to ignore it. My kids hadn’t noticed and me saying something would have drawn their attention to her behaviour. I don’t think it would have made a difference anyway. You can’t make everyone understand or expect them to be reasonable. My mum often uses a famous quote; ‘Never judge a man until you have walked a mile in his sandals.’ I realise that whilst I felt judged by this girl, if I said something and lectured her, I would also be passing some kind of judgement. I too would be engaging in behaviour that could upset someone else. I remind myself of my own favourite quote to ‘Be kind, always!’ and decide to show a level of kindness and tolerance that she did not show to us. If she had said something to us or told J off then this may have been entirely different but for now I bite my tongue, lick my wounds, pick myself up and move on.

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Suddenly Seven!

I can’t believe that J is seven years old today. How did that happen? In some ways I feel like we’ve been through a lot since his dramatic arrival and also that he has achieved so much in spite of the difficulties he has. Yet I still wonder how it can be seven years since we first met him and I still remember it all so clearly, as though it was only a few weeks or months ago. Continue reading

Planning a family holiday that caters for different needs and interests

At Christmas I wrote a post about trying to have a Christmas that was suited to everyone’s needs. Well, now it’s summer and we found ourselves again in a situation where we needed to really consider everyone’s needs and likes and take these into account in planning where and when to go on holiday. I know everyone does this when they plan a holiday but for some reason it seems to be a minefield for us at the moment, given the children’s ages, J’s needs and my husband and I’s leave dates. Combine all of this and we had a major headache on our hands. Continue reading

A Christmas That’s Suited To Everyone’s Needs?

Christmas can be a difficult time for people with autism and additional needs. The noises, lights, routine changes and so many other things can be overwhelming. When J was younger we hadn’t really thought much about these things. We hadn’t been prepared for it. I think we just assumed he would be excited and would love it in the way my nephews and niece had. Maybe this visit to Santa should have forewarned us. Not much has changed in this respect, he still gets upset at the thought of meeting Santa.

The year we found out things would be different for him was when he was 3. We set all of his presents out, nicely wrapped, and in the morning we went downstairs for him to open them. It was hard to tell if he was excited. We just assumed he didn’t really know what Christmas was yet and, as he was our eldest, he would pick it up as time went on. He happily opened the first present and wanted to play with what was inside. After doing this another couple of times he just wanted to sit down and play with what he had and didn’t want to open anything else. He became a bit overwhelmed with every individual item needing to be unwrapped and eventually had what we now know as a meltdown. He started flapping his fingers and shaking his head, whining and whimpering and becoming very distressed.  Continue reading

Fumbling through the fallout – coping with my son’s autism diagnosis

Originally featured on Meet Other Mums

I’ve debated posting this for a while now and have written different drafts and then deleted them. The following post is the lead up to and how I coped after J’s autism diagnosis. It’s all about my own thoughts and feelings, the effect on our lives and our family.

J had a difficult birth and a rollercoaster of a week afterwards, followed by many follow up visits and appointments with a long list of health professionals. In the beginning, right after his birth and in the days that followed, my fear was that he wasn’t going to survive. He didn’t feed, had a ‘floppy incident’ and ended up in intensive care hooked up to a variety of machines. Once this crisis passed and we were able to take him home, we worried about his colour, as he was very purple and I had to set an alarm through the night to waken him up and feed him. 

We got through this and then the follow-up appointments with the paediatrician. It seemed like each time was a little more pointless and I still didn’t know what to expect or what/if anything would be wrong going forward. Once J was one I was a little more adamant at his visits. He hadn’t reached certain milestones, crawling, sitting up, etc within roughly recognised time frames. At this point he was referred for follow up in the community with a paediatrician, physio and occupational therapist. The physio gave exercises to try to strengthen his core and help with his hand grip and movements. The paediatrician scheduled appointments for us to talk and get not very far and the OT took a little while to see him due to his age. 

After several months the physio said that the way he used his hands was how he has adapted his movements to carry out tasks and there wasn’t much more she could do. She discharged him but said we could re-refer in future if we wished. The OT completed sensory questionnaires and tried different turn taking and sensory activities with him. The consultant arranged a birth to three multi-agency meeting, which didn’t have a major result other than to refer him for further assessment. All very frustrating and a long road to travel for all of us.

Out Health Visitor was great, she arranged a pre-three nursery placement application to support J’s development and attended the initial meetings to fight his corner. There were so many meetings to attend and reports to read! Eventually he was referred to a specialist team to determine whether he was on the autistic spectrum. The waiting list was long but eventually when he was 3 years and 2 months old my mum and I took him for his assessment. 

I remember every part of that day (and those who know me know my memory is not all that great!) I got away from work to go with him and we struggled to find the place the assessment was taking place. For some reason the map showed the street ending at a garage and after driving around several unknown streets, I had to call for directions. It was a white building and we had to park on the opposite side of the road. The boy on the desk was helpful, he had difficulty with eye contact and I later found out that the centre employ people on the autism spectrum to give them experience in the workplace. 

Once there went in to a room with a sofa and small pool table. There was a small adjoining room which had some lights and toys inside. J was allowed to explore and play between the two rooms while two speech and language therapists observed him and chatted to us. After this one of the therapists took my mum and I to another room for a more formal chat and J, reluctantly at first, stayed with the other therapist to play. We were asked many questions and the therapist referred to reports submitted from others involved in J’s care and education. Some of the things they had written were news to us. I was a little upset at this, as I think professionals should be up front in telling parents their findings. 

At the end of it all we were told that yes J had autism. He had a wider developmental delay but part of his delay was related to autism, though it was not the sole cause of his developmental difficulties. We were given some leaflets about two charities who work with children and parents and told that the full report would be with us in a couple of weeks time. And that was it really. Out into the big bad world to go back to our lives and just get on with it. All that build up and the long road to get here and within a couple of hours it was over and we were back outside the building and on our way home.

I think initially it didn’t really seem like it had happened at all. The build up and expectation was so much more than the diagnosis itself. I didn’t think I would be all that bothered about it, as it had been what I expected to hear anyway. This wasn’t the case though. The confirmation came like a big hard punch in the gut. I think it was made worse by the fact I hadn’t been prepared to feel that way about it. I cried, a lot, at times after that day. My mind seemed to now wander to the childhood and future J may miss out on, the limitations for him and the hardships he may face. It was all so uncertain, no one really knew what the impact would be for him. In fact, we still don’t really know.

Initially nothing changed; work went on, life went on and we just got on with it. I think because we thought we were prepared for what we were going to be told, we hadn’t actually prepared for what would come afterwards. I hadn’t prepared for the thoughts that became more concrete and real after hearing the words. I went on through the next days and weeks almost in a state of numbness. Still as though it wasn’t really real. Once the initial shock settled a little my thoughts moved from what J would miss out on to what we could do to help him as much as possible, to support his development. I had thought that a diagnosis would have helped in a way, that there would be more support. I couldn’t really have been more wrong.

The first people the diagnosis helped were the staff in his mainstream nursery. It gave them further ammunition to say it wasn’t a suitable place for him. They had been determined that this was the case before he even set foot in the door and before they had met him. They were always keen to point out the things he couldn’t do and the difficulties he had. None of the discussions ever seemed to involve how they could accommodate his needs or try to help him. It was made very clear that he wasn’t wanted there before he even set foot in the door and each meeting just added to this. As a person who had sat on both sides of the table in these types of meetings, I wasn’t prepared for the side I was on. I hadn’t expected their input to be so negative, for them to be so unwilling to do for my son what I have gone out of my way to do for other people’s children. He was already at mainstream nursery when we received his diagnosis. It just seemed to make them all the more determined to push him back out the door.

As part of their wish to show me how unable he was to cope, I was invited to go into the nursery to observe him. I took them up on the offer and hid in the kitchen to watch so that he couldn’t see me. Initially he joined in with group time, walking round the group to count people and joining in with the song. After this he sat for a short time before going with his assistant to a separate area where she brought out a bag of ‘activities’. I have to say I was disappointed by what I saw and it really confirmed for me how little they knew about him. It showed me that because he was non-verbal they just assumed he had absolutely no ability to understand them or to comprehend activities. The bag was full of toys a baby would use; stacking rings, a bead run, toys with sounds and flashing lights and other toys that were things he had been able to use at an early age. None of them were designed to aid his development or progress in any way. They were all there to keep him quiet/entertained and out of their way. The visit really opened my eyes to how little they were doing to try to accommodate his needs, how little they knew about him and really how little they cared about his progress. For them it was simply a matter of waiting it out until they could get me to give in and move him elsewhere. To say I was heartbroken by this doesn’t go far enough. I was devastated by how little they wanted to try, by how hard they were trying to get rid of my boy. To make matters worse they kept insisting that they ‘only want what’s best for J and what’s in his best interests.’ Did this mean they thought I didn’t know or want this for my son? For a while I questioned myself on this. Was I doing what was best for him, were they right, was it me who didn’t know him well? They made me doubt myself and my ability to make decisions about my son and his development/education. Looking back now I still believe they were wrong. 

After his first year there I decided to move him to a Language and Communication Support Nursery. Not because I felt it was his best option but because I knew where he was wasn’t working out. I have to say I place responsibility for this at the feet of the head teacher at that time and his key worker. Had they been more willing to try, I am certain it would have been more of a success. I always knew J would not cope with attending a mainstream primary but nursery is an entirely different setting and he had a one-to-one ASN worker with him. His placement failed because of an unwillingness to support his needs and perhaps a fear of the unknown on the part of the staff. I didn’t move my son because I thought they were right or because I thought he couldn’t cope. I moved him because they couldn’t cope and he was missing out as a result. 
His new nursery was wonderful. They were so welcoming. It was a smaller setting with less children, which was a bonus. They had a genuine warmth and each time I visited I could feel that they were invested in J and his needs, his progress. The language they used was so much more positive and almost immediately I could see that they made an effort to get to know him. When I went to the first progress meeting for his support plan, the first parents evening, the open day, right through to his graduation; everyone was so welcoming and positive. They knew my son and his needs. They had a genuine warmth when they spoke about him and they celebrated all of the things he can do (and there are many!) 

The next fight came when it was time for him to go to school. We asked for him to attend the school where his nursery was. It doesn’t happen automatically as they work separately. The letter arrived with his placement and it was for a school 16 miles away. At 4 years old they wanted my son to make a 32 mile round trip to school each day! We appealed and heard nothing, then we heard the same answer and we fought again. Eventually after lots of back and forth, sleepless night so, letters, phone calls, etc. he was allowed a place in the school we wished. It was certainly worth the fight. It’s such a wonderful school. I genuinely feel uplifted each time I visit. Communication with and involvement of parents is great. The staff seem to genuinely care about the children and set high expectations for them. They challenge them and go to great lengths to give them such a variety of learning experiences. Success is celebrated and I can tell that J is settled and happy where he is. He even managed to tolerate a bit of the Hallowe’en disco this year!

I suppose in a round about way what I’m trying to say is that I thought the diagnosis would be the end of the fight, the beginning of help and support being offered. This was not the case. If anything, it was the start of a bigger, longer, harder fight that continues today. Nothing J has had was offered up or easy to find out about. It involved a lot of research, asking loads of people, contacting many different departments and agencies, writing countless letters and emails and basically badgering anyone I was able to get in contact with. 

I like to think that I’ve come to terms with the diagnosis and all of the things that have gone on in his life so far. Truth be told each part has left its mark. I’m not the same person I was at the start of this journey and I’m unlikely to be the same person at the end as I am even now. However, as long as the person I am gets my child what he needs and ensures he has the best chances and opportunities I can get for him, then I’m willing to be ok with that.

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Confidence – nature or nurture?

This post first featured on Meet Other Mums on 21st October.

Recently my middle child, B, went to the birthday party of one of the little girls in his class. He got the invitation over a week before and had been really excited about it. So much so that he talked about it every day and kept asking when it was Saturday, so that he could go to the party. To let you understand B has only been to one other ‘proper’ birthday party before; when he was at nursery. The other parties he has been to have been for family members, so there are a few familiar faces and usually me and some other familiar adults. He loves to play, to have fun, to run around, to bounce on bouncy castles, to dance and he loves soft play. Most birthday parties should be a piece of cake then!(🎂😂) Not for B. He was so excited right up until we walked into the party room. He even wrote the card and posed outside the building for a photo. 

Once we walked into the room it was an entirely different story. He was wrapped round my leg, head bowed, cheeks red and voice low and mumbling. I could see tears about to well up in his eyes and the look of fear in there too. The strange thing was, many of the kids he knows from school. He could tell me many of their names and wave at them if they spoke to him, but he couldn’t just run off to play with them. It was like he was frozen to the spot. He has never been an overly confident or outgoing child. He took a while to settle in nursery and despite being excited about starting school, he cried going in each morning for a couple of weeks. 

I tried to encourage him to go forward and join in, took him over to the table where kids were colouring in masks, tried to engage him in conversation with some of the children I recognised he knew, tried to get him to play on the soft play cushions with the kids there, tried to get him to climb on board the mini wooden pirate ship; all in vain. He stayed wrapped round my leg or holding onto my arm and begged me not to leave him. Other than the friends of the mum hosting the party, no other parents had stayed. They had all dropped their kids off and gone for tea or some other lovely kind of respite! 

I thought maybe if I stayed for the beginning he would settle in and I could slip off, but every time I moved even slightly out of his eyeline he looked around for me in a panicked fashion! I ended up there for the duration. The other mums probably thought I was a bit crazy, since this was the first time I had met them and I was the only one who stayed. I didn’t have the heart to drop him in at the deep end though and I didn’t want it to put him off parties for life or for it to result in him crying the whole time and wasting the party for everyone else. 

Eventually he coloured in a mask and said hello to a couple of others. He stood next to some children playing on the soft play cushions and sat on the floor for instructions from the party leaders. He was reluctant to join in with musical bumps and when I finally encouraged him I was devastated that he was too shy and hesitated to sit down, meaning he was out on the first go! The tears fell then and I had to work hard to quieten him before his friends noticed. Strangely the kids who cried the most during the party were the boys. The girls all just seemed to get on with it! He looked anxious the whole time and certainly didn’t look like he was having a great time. However, in the car on the way home and for the rest of the evening, it was all he would talk about. He told me that he’d had a great time and it was the best party he’d ever been to!

Anyway, bit of a long way to get here but it made me wonder if this lack of confidence or shyness is in a child’s nature or does it come about through their experience of life? Is it a bit of both? Have I failed him in some way and made him feel this way? Have my oldest son J’s needs, and lack of ability to help him out in situations like this because of his autism, had an impact on B’s skills and how he copes? Is there a way I can help him to feel more confident and able to join in?  I was a shy child and I’m not an overly confident adult. Does he get it from me or have I somehow inadvertently shown him to behave this way?

Any ideas on how to help him through this anyone? Is it truly just his nature or is nurture responsible?

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The Pramshed