PUZZLED/CRUSHED
 
Marti and Rudy had long desired a baby.  Rudy was in the army, and overseas for periods of time, so Marti knew that a baby would bring such joy to them both.  When they finally received news that they were expecting, plans, lifestyles, eating habits, and all thoughts were suddenly circumvented to plan for the special gift that Marti was carrying.  No more coffee.  Cut out the soft drinks.  Sugar and high-fat foods laid aside for nine months.  The main goal was to have a healthy baby.

Marti recalls signing up for a children’s book club in anticipation of nights spent sitting on the couch, reading with her new treasure.  She imagined her toddler curled up beside her, head on her shoulder, and his or her eyes glued to vibrant pictures as each page was turned.  The picture of them played over and over in her mind as nine months passed quickly.

Justin was born beautiful.  The baby’s room was adorned in yellow.  The blues added in after Justin’s birth set the stage for this little fellow to grow and learn.  The house was symbolic of a new baby.  There were baby gifts with thank you notes out to be written.  There were packages of diapers given as gifts, waiting to be put in their proper place.  There was the smell of baby powder and the sweet smell of baby enveloping each visitor as they entered to check on the new family.  The nursery and home were complete now, and the bundle of life lay wrapped within his soft crib.

Twenty-four months of picture-taking, schedule changes, play groups, and diaper- changing evolved.  Milestone marks were coming and going.  Justin seemed to be reaching his developmental marks, but still there were those little things that would flutter into Marti’s mind.  He was not learning to use his spoon like the other kids were.  He was not understanding directions like the neighbor’s two-year-old.  Why would he not look at whatever Mom pointed to?  Why could he not let her know what he wanted?  She explained everything away with being a stay-at-home Mom, oversensitive, first-time mother. 

By twenty-four months, it was again time for Justin’s scheduled checkup with his doctor.  Looking forward to gaining some reassurance from the doctor, Marti brought Justin to the military base for his appointment.  The exam was futile because Justin would not cooperate.  

The doctor rang a bell behind Justin’s back to gain his attention.  No response. 

She attempted to get him to look at her.  No eye contact. 

Justin’s responses were not typical.  Thinking back on that visit, Marti’s eyes tell the story of hurt and anguish.  “Your son is autistic,” the doctor bluntly stated, “and this is a life-long disability.  He may never talk, and there is no cure.  Accept it and move on.”
v Marti was in shock.  This was her firstborn child.  She so wanted this child.  She was ready to be a full time mother, but she was not ready for this.  Marti recalls the anger she felt.  From a female physician, she expected more compassion.  She recalls venting her anger toward this physician who had no bedside manner.  “She made me so mad,” Marti relays.

Fortunately for Justin as well as for Marti and Rudy, Marti felt driven to find ways to best raise her son.  She joined support groups.  She signed up for special training courses that would help her to work with Justin.  She used her energy and anger in a positive manner that would help not only her, but more importantly, Justin.

“Why me?” she recalls now.  “What if it had not been me?  What if God had placed Justin into the arms of another couple who were not capable of the love, understanding, and support that God knew Marti and Rudy were?”

Questions?  Yes.  But answers?  Absolutely!

 

REFLECTION:

In Fingerprints of God, Jennifer Rothschild tells a story of a Christian father and a son living in a foreign land.  She says that this father is told to stop speaking to others of his God.  Over and over again as the soldiers threaten him, the father stands firm regarding his belief and states that he will not stop speaking of his God.  The soldiers bind his wrists and ankles and wrap him so he cannot see.  Over and over again, he waits for his beating as he reiterates his godly conviction.  Suddenly he hears his son yell, “PaPa!”

Realizing that the soldiers were about to torture his son, the father yells, “No!  Punish me, not my son.”  

The soldiers remove his blindfold for him to see his son being held up by the hair on his head. 

“No, not my son,” he repeats. 

Again the father is told to stop speaking of his God.  His son loudly insists that his father not give in as the soldiers begin to beat him.  Realizing their failed attempts to keep this man from speaking about his God, the soldiers drop the beaten boy and leave.

Running and gathering his son in his arms, thinking that he was dead, the small boy opened his eyes.

 “How could you still be alive?  Thank you, God, for saving my son.  How could you survive all the beating?”

“It was easy Papa.  I just kept looking up to see the face of Jesus.  He helped me to not think of the pain.”

Look to Jesus.  Keep your eyes on Jesus.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

In this technological age, finding groups of individuals throughout the world that have organized to provide support for others experiencing similar issues becomes very easy.  The Internet offers a host of opportunities to explore ways of learning more and reaching out for help.  Local newspapers frequently offer listings of support group meeting times and places.  School systems may offer additional information.  Hospitals, too, initiate information sources as babies/families are discharged.

Support is an important part of coping as a family experiences the diagnosis of a child.  Research, communicate, question, and learn.