March Seventh

One year ago, we drove our sweet Clara to Boston, MA for a neuropsych evaluation at Boston Children’s Hospital. Matthew and I weren’t particularly worried or even nervous because she had made so much progress in the months leading up to the appointment. The evaluation lasted for what seemed like forever, but we were happy about that. We finally felt like all of Clara’s skills were really being assessed, and maybe even appreciated. We sat back as the pediatrician and psychologist performed various tests, intermittently asking us questions but for the most part, letting Clara shine. As my readers may remember, the next day’s diagnosis “came as a surprise, albeit not a complete shock” to our family. I created this project the following week and have turned to it as an outlet in the most difficult moments of motherhood.

At that time, our sweet Eloise was still taking up residence in my belly. The hormones raged as the questions kept flooding in without a single answer in sight. The last five weeks of my pregnancy are a blur to me; instead of wondering what labor and delivery would be like, whether our baby would be a boy or a girl, who he or she would look like and how our family would adapt to becoming Four, I spent my days researching Autism resources, Applied Behavior Analysis services, scheduling and meeting with potential providers, and watching (I mean, really watching) my Clara’s every move. 

Eloise joined our family early on a Saturday morning. Clara came to meet her later that morning, and that moment was one I will never forget. She approached sisterhood with both caution and optimism, wearing her new “Big Sis” cape with confidence. Eventually, silence fell upon our hospital room and Eloise and I were settling in for an afternoon rest when my cell phone rang. It was our new BCBA (Board Certified Behavior Analyst) calling to schedule Clara’s first session of therapy. I didn’t realize at that moment how much that woman would become part of our lives, yet here we are a year later and we have welcomed her and her staff into our home more times than I can count. She was shocked that I was willing to speak with her with a eight-hour old in my arms, but that is who I am. I will never miss an opportunity to fight for my children, to do whatever is in my power to get them what they need. 

As many of you know, Clara, and all the powers that lie within her, took flight. She met her goals weeks and sometimes months ahead of deadlines. She grew intellectually, emotionally, and socially. Her mostly-unconditional love for her sister deepened and they quickly became the best of friends. In the moments when Eloise is “bothering her,” Clara knows how to move her body and request support and will often resort to those skills rather than the dreaded sibling head-bonk. She takes pride in teaching her sister to walk, wave, and play peek-a-boo. She reads to her each night and kisses her on the head saying, “I love you Eloise! I’ll see you in the morning!” They play, and not always just in parallel. They actually play together, a skill Clara has fostered at preschool. 

In October, Clara was found ineligible for special education services through public school. Throughout the assessments and observations, it was determined that Clara functioned as a typical three-year-old socially, emotionally, intellectually, and verbally. For four months now, Clara has attended a private preschool with teachers who love her and peers who have quickly turned to friends. She has a best friend, a little girl the same age as Clara, with beautiful, bright eyes and a kind heart. They look forward to time spent together with enthusiasm, and have invited each other into their homes for play dates. I hope that one day I’m able to convey to her mom how much this friendship means not only to Clara, but to me. Because one year ago, I cried myself to sleep every night fearing that Clara would never be accepted by her peers, that she would never have a friend. 

We have hit a steady stride in our family these days. We have an almost-eleven-month-old who constantly and consistently gets into mischief. She knows how to stand, wave, and warm our hearts. She’s a passionate eater and an apathetic napper. She loves animals, touch-and-feel books, and her sister most of all. She believes her role in the family is that of a vacuum cleaner, picking up every single tiny item off the floor and immediately putting it in her mouth. Her four teeth form the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. 

And we have a three-year-old which means she’s irrational, moody, and energetic. She gets upset when we give her water instead of milk or when we ask her to use the potty when she would rather watch Frozen II. She overreacts at the thought of nap time or when her dog steps on her toes. She’s dauntless. She loves camping in the backyard in summertime. She desperately wants to be able to read anything that she comes across that has letters on it. She loves broccoli and clam chowder with every ounce of her being. A true performer at heart, she attends weekly ballet classes with enthusiasm. She loves to help mom cook and help dad wash the cars. She can’t wait to ride her scooter once the weather gets warm. She sings, she wears princess dresses, and she wants to learn to play catch. She is a connoisseur of cake-pops and anything strawberry-flavored. She has the most beautiful heart I’ve ever known. 

March 7, 2019 is a day I’ll never forget. It’s the last day in my life when I was blissfully ignorant of the challenges our family would face and eventually overcome. And now, March 7, 2020 will become a day I’ll never forget either. We don’t have anything planned that makes today noteworthy, but it’s the reflection on the last year that matters. The past year started with such a sense of hopelessness that it’s difficult to put into words, and looking at what lies ahead, I no longer feel the sadness that only a mother of a child who is struggling can understand. Rather, I feel proud, hopeful, and confident. I’m deeply thankful for those who have supported our family in the last year: family, friends, therapists, educators, doctors, service providers, and well-wishers. It has been a roller-coaster, but when is life ever not?