The Diagnosis

One month. It has been exactly one month since they labeled my sweet beautiful baby boy as Autistic. One month of grieving, one month of anxiety, one month of fear, one month of anger, one month of tears, one month of self loathing and one long month of all those feelings for my son. It has also been a month of acceptance, of feeling so much love, support, and learning that life is just going to move on. I woke up one morning and realized guess who isnt feeling these emotions. My baby. My Dylan isn’t feeling these things. It was reserved for just me and his daddy. He was going about his life laughing, learning and just being dylan. I realize I have to keep doing what I have been doing for him. I have to keep fighting for him. He needs me to be present. That is where I am most days. Most days I am present and fighting and researching and doing things. But then there are the dark days when I let myself feel everything. Will I ever hear the sweet words “mama” again? Will he ever play ball, go to college, have a wife. I self destruct. This is not something that I will just “get over” ever. I will live with these fears forever I suppose. This is not the type of parenting my husband and I envisioned for ourselves and certainly not the life we envisioned for our son. This is hard. This is real. This is beautifully painful. His sister will be 6 months old very soon. She is leaps and bounds ahead of the curve with development compared to Dylan at that age. That simultaneously brings me so much joy and also so much sadness. I know that Callie will be playing the big sister role before I know it and that just breaks me. This is how I feel on the hard days. But most days I relish in my sons wins, in his gains, in his learning new sounds, in new skills. In this past month I have realized that while I may be waiting on my son to say “wuv you momma” I know he already does. I see it in the way he gives me unexpected hugs, or kisses. I see it in his laughter when I play with him. I see it in the way he runs to his daddy when he comes home from work. I see it in his eyes. He loves us. I have learned that love is not always a spoken word. It is so much more. I see it all around me. I see it in our support system. We are so blessed with our family and friends that love our babies and love us and want to understand more and who have offered help, a kind word or just a hug. This is love. This is autism. This is our new life.

I started this blog about a month before getting the diagnosis. I have a few posts that I have kept private. This has been cathartic for me. I am opening this one up to the public because I want people to understand our story now. I want people to not feel sorry for us but know and understand our baby and so if maybe by some small chance I help another mamma, daddy, grandparent, or caregiver in our shoes. So many others have come before me and I have read their stories and I get it. I hope that I can be that for someone else. But mostly I hope to break the stigma or fear some may have with this diagnosis. This blog entry is just a small snippet of my life. PM me if you have questions about our journey. I want to educate people on what I have learned and am learning and would love to learn more from those that have done this before.


10 thoughts on “The Diagnosis

  1. Love you my brave friend! You and Nick’s love will carry you through those dark days. And of course Dylan’s unconditional, always present love for his momma.


  2. Savanna I’m so sorry that you are going through this, but I also know that “ labels” do not define who we are. Your Dylan is a beautiful child and it’s obvious that he is loved very much. I’m
    Totally behind you and will pray for your family.


  3. You are such a strong Mama. I’m very proud to call you one of my very best friends. You guys are such amazing friends and amazing parents to these little people. Dylan is such a funny, focused, strong, loving, and energized soul. I can’t wait to watch him grow❤️


  4. Savanna, you guys will do awesome with Dylan. You were given him for a purpose. He is a blessing. Sometimes it won’t seem that way, and other times it will be abundantly clear. That is the way with all children, no matter their abilities.


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