Your Grief is Real: Managing the Losses of Regressive Autism
I believe I have a unique perspective on grief and here is why:
My child has regressive autism. At the age of 3 he went from speaking in full sentences to nonverbal; from painting for 30 minutes at a time to putting the paintbrush in his mouth. He is still with us, but the person he was is gone. I watched the most peaceful and fun-loving person vanish, replaced by a panicked and pained individual who could no longer give voice to his experience. And this was my child. It was so far from any vision I had ever had of parenthood. I was lost.
Acceptance was hard won, but on the journey I chose to believe that watching my child suffer was pivotal to my own spiritual evolution. My powerlessness became clear; and the mystery of what happened to my son, as well as the mystery of how it can improve, has summoned me to surrender to all the great unknowns. My healing, yoga and meditation practices have grounded me through this time and have unlocked my stuck inner child, unfurling my creative passions and pursuits. Will there be a key for my son? I do not know. But I do know that while I love who he is, I still miss who he was, and will forevermore.
Unique and Ongoing Grief
DENIAL: We can turn back the hands of time.
ANGER: Why can the doctors not tell us what happened?
BARGAINING: If we just find out what went wrong, we can turn back time.
DEPRESSION: Our son is in abject pain and can’t tell us about it.
ACCEPTANCE: Came on the wind in surrendering to my own healing.
In any grief process it is natural to ask yourself, “why me?” In my case, I eventually had to ask, “why not me?”
What else could have led me to surrender my inner rescuer? There is nothing like the cries of your own child to take your breath away and eventually help you to recognize that the only power you really have is within yourself. You still have choices to make. I had to choose to heal because unlike the death of a child, I still have a beautiful boy to raise. I will cycle through the grief indefinitely, but I will always choose to heal. I exhale so that the same healing and acceptance will continue to cycle on the wind – always returning to me and to you as the gentle breeze whispering in our ears,
