affection

When Luke was 1st diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome at 4, we went into hyper mode of doing everything possible to help him navigate the world more easily. I don't regret the time and effort spent shuffling him along with an 18 month old and newborn from therapy to therapy because it was beneficial for him.

However, I must admit that our world became Asperger's Syndrome.

Every book I read was about Asperger's Syndrome.

Every thing I researched was about Asperger's Syndrome.

Every extra minute that I had was dedicated to learning more about Asperger's Syndrome.

It was exhausting.

Despite the best intentions to help our son, I began to see Asperger's when I looked at my son instead of just seeing Luke.

Fast forward 4 years, we have ended most therapies. He has progressed so far that he is remarkably undisguished from his typical peers. He's always been mainstreamed in a regular classroom. He does not require an aide. He has made friends. And most of all, he is content and confident.

That said, Asperger's has not been erased.

Nor would we want it to be.

Luke is Luke. Asperger's or not, he is who he was made to be. No longer do I see him through an Asperger's filter.

I just see Luke.

Luke's Asperger's makes him very sensitive to touch. He is not one cuddle. Even as an infant, he preferred to not be held. Which is why it is so special when out of the blue he wanted to rest his sweet head on my lap during his brother's t-ball game. I rested my mama hand on his chest as I questioned whether or not he would instinctively remove it, but instead he embraced my affection and let me revel in the moment.


It is moments like this that make all the moments in the mommy trenches disappear.

Much love,
Katie
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