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Here we are, week 4 of 'back to work at home' and week 4 of brand new nanny. Dare I say it? It's going ok! It really is. We are a better fit, personality wise. They are a better fit, personality wise. It just seems to be working. There hasn't been any trauma response that I've seen from E about having this change which leads me to believe that, indeed, I am his anchor and as long as I'm here and he knows I'm here, it's ok. For now anyway.
One amazing thing I'm doing is a parenting course for adoptive parents. It's free. It's in England. It's on Zoom. There are two other Scots. I have cried, like from the pits of my soul cried, after every session. Connecting with people who've done what I've done, in their way, in their circumstances, and who can get it, on some level...I can't even describe what it feels like. Listening to a clinical psychologist describe exact behaviours my child has demonstrated and shared the neuroscience behind it and let me rage against the 'my child went through that phase too' stuff is just cathartic. Sure they did. But they don't have developmental trauma, so the intensity is not even on the same playing field. Even her acknowledgement of how motherloving difficult this has all been, pandemically speaking, makes me feel heard. And therefore lighter. This sounds like a pity party and it's not. It's just acknowledgement that there are support systems in place for adoptive parents, for adopted children, for autism, for autism parents, for single parents and for children of single parents in my country and I am not there. This has highlighted for me that I have truly and utterly walked this path alone. With my gorgeous friends for support, yes. Thank the actual universe for them. But this actual path, with these actual circumstances...I have been alone. You know I was invited to a Zoom with the Ministry here to encourage prospective adoptive parents to look at the priority list; that which I found and brought Emilio home from. That which said he wasn't perfect. That which I had to email THEM to get a bloody copy of in the first place! Well, two years later and they've made changes and that is wonderful. However, I got a letter yesterday thanking me for my participation. It was in November. That shows you just how quickly things roll around here...
Onto wonderful things. I've written about our incredible Nisha and the effect she's having on my boy wonder. He's verbalising so much more - I want chocolate - every friggin' morning (thanks, Nisha!). It's actually incredible, watching this and living this and not really knowing where it's going. So many people have talked about their autistic children 'not speaking till they were (insert age here)', but what does that mean? Is he going to just one day start chatting about his day? Is he going to one day respond when I say, 'Do you like that?', whether that be a new toy or a new food. I have no idea what life has in store for us. But. He is making huge leaps and bounds and he is HAPPY. Thanks to my mum, I will always keep coming back to these words - 'You have a happy boy there, Marianne, and there are lots of children who aren't.' These words are my gospel and we are so fortunate to be able to find joy in each other and our wacky world in the midst of this pandemic.
New developments...
Old nanny felt the need to tell me daily that Emilio didn't play with any other children, 'como nunca'. Like literally Every. Single. Day. No, I know he doesn't. On account of his social communication skills being as they are, playing with other children does not come naturally to him. Add to that a pandemic that has kept him at home, with me, for the last year where any kind of social intervention that could have been going on, isn't. Must we chat about this every day?? Anyway, on Saturday, I was feeling somewhat deflated, alone and just looonnneeellly. I decided to take Emilio out for lunch, rather than meet our friends in the park. To you, this may seem mental. To me, this meant I could sit, for some of the time, in some peace and not worry. Sure, my entire park visiting life is just running after E and trying to keep him alive. And the dogs. That's normal. But meeting up with friends whose children play together when I have to still tank it across the park because E has stolen someone's scooter, or picked up that bag, or gone in that bag, or etc, etc, etc... It's just pointless and makes me lonelier. I love him. I will always do those things and I will explain to those who need an explanation. I will not apologise for him except for when I really feel it is necessary. But also. It's just so lonely and leaves me feeling like I'm 14 again and don't fit in the popular girls' club. That is what being a special needs mum feels like. You're the one running around on the outskirts, never getting the conversation, never getting the connection because you're stressed out your nut chasing after your child who does not understand danger, nor responds to his name, nor gives a single flying filangie that there is a global pandemic on and people don't really want his hands on their stuff! I digress... The GOOD stuff. We sat down in this cafe which has a play area for children. Off he toddled to see what's what. Before long, two other families had come in with girls about the same age as Emilio. I watched as they quickly befriended one another and set to work building with the giant blocks - it looked like they were making a wall. I watched as Emilio observed and then went over to join them. My stomach tensed and I waited for the inevitable rejection I've seen so many times in the playground - especially from girls. What happened next floored me and had tears pouring down my face...they just handed him some of the blocks and they worked as a little team, building their wall. No questions. Nothing. Just total acceptance. This carried on for the duration we were there, on and off, all of them playing together or not, but at no time was he rejected from their newly struck up friendship. They came to ask if they could speak to him in Spanish because they could obviously hear me speaking not Spanish and he is not so much with the talking. But no 'why isn't he speaking' - just 'can we speak to him in Spanish?'. I can't tell you. I just can't. Even when he knocked their wall down (as most children would do), they didn't kick off or get upset; they just got involved destroying it. Whoever those parents are, you are doing the most marvellous job with your little girls. This is inclusion. This is acceptance. This is kindness and respect.
Still reeling from this day, New Nanny V2.1 loves to tell me how their park visits are going. She's clearly found a wee nanny posse which is great because more children to play with, but she's telling me daily that he's been given a present of chalk from this child and invited to the birthday of this one and, last week, one little girl was allowed to invite one friend for an ice cream and she chose Emilio. Again, I just can't describe how huge these things are or how much my heart is bursting. This lady gives zero filangies that he is autistic - she is just making him get in there and get on with it and I am so, so grateful. For all the utter shit that is going on, for all the anxiety and the stress that my life (and most people's right now!) is currently made up of, I am just so grateful to have found some amazing people to come into our world and help my little genius let his light shine through. When life is this hard, what else is there but hope?
