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By Guest Columnist Deborah Dennis
My name is Deborah Dennis and I’ve lived here in Pike County for about 16 years. Over that period of time, like anybody else, it’s been a mixture of good and bad, blessings and well, you get it. And with each new experience, each new trial, good and bad, I’ve grown. My latest ongoing accomplishment at personal growth, is being the mother to a child with Special Needs.
That would be my 6 year old son, Owen.
Owen was diagnosed with Autism when he was 2 years, 10 months old. Now I tell you, that was an emotional roller coaster ride just getting a diagnosis. I think a parent’s worst nightmare is having a group of medical specialists collaborating together to decide what’s “wrong” with your child. And then there’s the grieving. I grieved up until the first year anniversary of Owen being diagnosed. May 21, 2008.
Why was I grieving, you may ask? Shattered dreams. Every parent, from the moment that they hear they’re “expecting”, start to dream. What will my child be like? Who will he look like? What will he be when he grows up? A doctor? A football player? Winner of a Nobel Peace Prize? President? The sky is the limit. So we do what every parent does, we decorate the nursery, buy baby clothes. Dads talk to their offspring via mom’s bellybutton, while mom anticipates every fluttery movement and kick. Then the baby is born. Some of us learn at birth something is not quite right. Some of us get increasingly alarmed at every developmental milestone not reached and every “red flag” that goes up because of odd behavior from our little one.
Whenever the dreaded diagnosis is given, at birth or down the road, the same thing happens. All the dreams that were conceived right along with that child shatter into a million pieces, as we the parents, weep over the pieces. But at some point, we dry our faces and find the inner strength to carry on.
I know with dealing with Autism, public reaction to my son has been very frustrating at times. Other times, he is simply misunderstood. His disability is not physically evident. On the outside, he looks just like any other kid. Until he starts to “stim” or doesn’t speak when someone tries to talk to him, or he has a meltdown because he can’t handle whatever situation he is in at the moment. I’ve been told by complete strangers to whip him, he’ll straighten up. Believe me, if I could whip Autism out of Owen, I would have done it a long time ago. One lady told me that I needed to put him in a home, people didn’t want to hear all that noise out in public. It was everything I could do not to give her an old-fashioned beatdown in the middle of Wal-mart. But Owen was watching. So I calmed myself down, wiped my tears, and whispered to him, “I will fight for you, whatever it takes.”
With Autism on the rise, and other childhood disabilities from mild to severe becoming more evident in our community, it's time for us to unite and draw strength from each other. We have been quiet for too long. Our children are not "less than" because of their disabilities. It's time to hold our heads high once again, and speak up. The real enemy to our children is not the personal battle fought everyday, but ignorance of the public. And I don't mean that in a negative manner. The definition of ignorance according to Webster is "lacking education or knowledge, not aware; lacking comprehension." We can't blame people for their perceptions of our children if we are not willing to educate them, give them a glimpse into our lives. Which is exactly why I'm writing to you today. I've given you just a small glimpse into my life. I hope to show you more.
Our children are worth fighting for, whatever it takes.