There are always two sides to every story. It has always fascinated me how a particular narrative can change so vastly depending on one’s perspective, personality and life experiences. Our family journey navigating ASD is no different. My husband’s approach to diagnosis and ongoing issues is often extremely pragmatic and somewhat clinical. Some might even call it typically male. Over the years we continue to learn and try and accept each other’s differing approach, whilst recognising that our joint cooperation is essential navigating all our challenges.
On a number of occasions I have spoken to friends who have had children diagnosed with ASD and a common theme was always the differing ways in which their partners were coming to terms with the situation. Some refused to talk about it, some refused to accept it as a problem, others would not engage in therapies. When I vaguely suggested to my husband that it would be lovely to have a blog post written from his point of view, I fully expected him to say no. To my surprise he said he’d have a think about it and he would probably do it at some time when he was ready. Several months later he said he thought he was ready to write something, and so here is his story.
I remember my wife coming back from mothers' group meetings often disappointed with the experience. She would relate how our first born wouldn’t want to play with any of the other kids, didn’t say much to anyone, and generally kept to himself. When he started to go to day care it was a similar situation. He never disturbed anyone but equally didn’t engage with anyone else either. He was never in the newsletter photos because he wasn’t often doing activities with the group. He was happy playing by himself. That was alright with me because I could relate. I like my personal space. I’m anti-social in crowds. I keep to myself. No big deal.
In my head, his slow progress with fine motor and gross motor skills was counterbalanced by his ability to teach himself to read, his perfect pitch, and his memory recall (at least of things he wanted to remember!). He wasn’t going to be an athlete but that was alright as well. Eventually he would learn the benefits of physical activity.
It may have seemed at the time that I was a little un-emotional and detached. That certainly wasn’t so. I was getting frustrated I couldn’t use my rational brain to reach my son’s rational brain. I struggled with and continue to struggle with the fact that we speak a different language.
When it became more obvious to my wife that some things weren’t quite right, some things weren’t getting better, and that certain patterns began to persist she pushed for his assessment……. I followed her lead. I’ve learned to accept over the years that there is something vaguely resembling women’s intuition, as illogical as that may be. Once we had a diagnosis of ASD and had met good professionals in the field, we had more clarity in what we had to work on with our son, and we were encouraged that our own educated attempts to help him were on the right path. As each period of time passed, we would encounter a new challenge, or a new manifestation of a trait or behaviour, and we would work on that issue or seek help to address it. We both embraced it as a kind of challenge. It was never a case of trying to hide or cover for any of his struggles.
Still, I never saw the process we went through as a need to find a diagnosis – although that certainly helps when dealing with the healthcare system. I saw each stage as an opportunity to gain more insight. I needed more tools and strategies and seeking help was for that purpose. It didn’t matter to me the label he was given. It mattered that I could find a way to better prepare him for his now and his future, for when he was on his own. In that sense it wasn’t a process for me to get emotional about. It was matter of fact. It needed to be done. Get it done. So…… maybe I was a little unemotional.
One insight that became clear is to me is how differently we all respond to adversity. And how strong an influence those differences might have on outcomes. Reflecting on our own dynamic, my wife would actively seek out help when confronted with a problem. She researches (sometimes with Dr Google) and gathers as much information as possible and generally needs to act immediately. Particularly when it comes to our children, she often thinks the worst but not necessarily hope for the best. Much to her frustration, I tend to ruminate and allow time for thoughts and ideas to form. I take time to assess the options and weigh up the appropriate course of action. No doubt I feel my method usually lends to
a more measured response (if I say so myself). I would say she acts too hastily while she wonders how many times I’ve missed the boat (on a side note…. I did manage to get on the right boat all those years ago).
What we have been through is nowhere near as challenging as what so many others have had to deal with in their lives. We are extremely fortunate in so many ways and count ourselves exceedingly lucky to have the support we have around us. But like everyone we also have our hurdles to encounter. Our son’s ASD is just one of them. We definitely do things differently. We argue plenty. We question any real method in each other’s madness. Nevertheless, I think it is an alignment of purpose that stops these disparities from derailing us. That’s what helps us find common ground. I think I’m fortunate that I am with someone who shares the same desires for ourselves and for our children. Not just whether they will be smart or play Bach or can tackle front on. But the desire to be good grounded human beings, to live a full and engaged life. We value family. We value our time with our children, and our time without them(!). Most of all we value what each of us brings to the relationship. We will work it out…... whatever comes.
