Why patience was my hardest lesson after my son’s autism diagnosis

I thought I knew what patience was before I had kids.  I loved kids and they loved me.  I did my work experience placement when I was 16 years old in a kindergarten and the kids were drawn to me.  I was very close to enrolling into a university degree to become an early learning teacher, but for whatever reason I was swayed to travel and tourism.  So, like I said, I was good with kids until I had kids of my own.  Now that was a different story.  Patience seemed to go flying out the window along with my sanity and sleep.  I don’t know about you, but sleep deprivation nearly killed me and don’t get me started on breastfeeding…what a debacle that was.

So, when my angel boy was diagnosed with autism just before his second birthday, I had to relearn what patience was.  If I’m being truthfully honest, I think I’m still learning it.  I wouldn’t say that I’m a master or a guru when it comes to patience, but I sure have come a long way from when my son was first diagnosed.

You see my angel boy was non-speaking until about the age of 4.5 years old and when he did start to talk it was one word that he would say.  I often encourage my clients to celebrate the small wins because those wins are the events that will get you through some of the hardest moments that you’ll encounter.

The patience part, well I had to learn that the hard way.  My son’s birthday is very close to Christmas and each birthday that we celebrated after he received his autism diagnosis, I would tell myself, this time next year he’ll be talking.  I was say it so assuringly, trying my very best to manifest his words, not knowing what else I could do.  And the next Birthday/Christmas would roll around and he wouldn’t have made much advancement from where he was the year before.  And each year I would cry myself into a heap, devastated by the fact that I couldn’t hear my son tell me that he loves me.  Devastated by the fact that he couldn’t tell me when he was hungry, what TV show he wanted to watch or where he wanted to go.

Those years, when I look back now were so very dark.  Anxiety and depression were skyrocketing, but alas you wouldn’t know because I was a superstar masker.  Masking away my feelings, my raging emotions.  It became hard to watch my friends’ kids who were younger than my boy excel at talking, running, swimming, you name it.  It was even harder to watch my daughter, his younger sister overtake him in certain areas.

I lived in a black cloud for the first four years after the diagnosis, not realising that staying there was a choice.  I was choosing to stay in that darkness.  I was choosing to be angry with the world and with God and with everyone and everything around me.  I was choosing to be impatient.

See, just because we want something, the universe, God, whomever you pray to doesn’t always just give it.  There is always a sequence of events, a certain amount of time that needs to pass, lessons to be learnt before that specific thing/event can take place.

I had to learn that my angel boy was learning in his time and no amount of wishing was going to make that come any quicker.  He was doing the best he could with what was going on for him.  Looking back the sensory overload that he was under would have been huge, but I couldn’t see that through my fearful eyes.  I couldn’t see that through my untrained eyes.

I often say to my husband that I wish I had me back then.  A person that could help me walk through the steps of grief and overwhelm one step at a time.  Knowing that they could help cushion the blow when things didn’t happen on my timeline.

These days my patience is getting much better but not 100%.  I can see his sensory overload.  I can sense when he’s off and not wanting to learn and give him the grace and space to re-regulate so that he can yet again, learn how to function in this very typical world of ours.

If you’d like to learn how to gain some more patience send me an email at natalie@youareseen.com.au or book in for a free 30-minute introduction call.

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