It Is What It Is, But It Isn't What It Has To Be

Recently, I've had several opportunities to talk about our early experiences with Noah and his diagnoses, how he's doing now, and our more recent experiences with Avery and now, with Ezra.  I often think God gives us these testimonies to give hope to other families.  It's one of the reasons I'm so obnoxious vocal.  I tried the victim card, and it really didn't suit us (I was talking with a friend just this morning about the one time--and only one time--our kids said, "But I'm autistic, I can't." ONE TIME! They both got the finger in the face lectures and everything! They never tried that excuse again!  Now, I do have another child who uses Every.  Single. Excuse. He. Can. Think. Of).  So here I am, displaying the mother-warrior-don't-give-up card instead. Yes, it's difficult some days (there are times you completely understand and embody the exact definition of the word 'weary')--but wow, the other end of the tunnel is Just.  So.  Incredibly.  Amazing.  When your child looks back and says, "I survived that--No, I didn't survive, I tackled it, I beat it, I let my freak flag fly and I'm a warrior. I'm exactly how God made me to be and I'm proud of it"--folks, that's just--WOW.

I will admit this did not come easy--as I said, I did try the victim card.  I begged God--why me, why them, why us?  Go pick on someone else's family!  I literally screamed at the injustice. I cried.  I wanted an easy life for my kids; it looked, and felt, as though everyone else's kids were having it so easy when my kids were just struggling.

I had a choice to make.  What kind of example did I want to set for my children, and what sort of life did I want to lead?  Did I want to blame God, or lean on Him?  Did I want to be angry at Him, or trust His plan for my--HIS--children?  Did I want to teach my children to be comfortable in who they've been created to be, and how they've been created, or did I want them to grow up thinking something was wrong with them?  Perhaps most importantly, did I want my boys growing up safe and secure in my love for them, or questioning why their mother didn't believe in them and didn't like them?

I also had to consider what I wanted to teach my children about facing adversity--do I want them to give up?  Do I want them to learn to keep going?  Or, do I want them to challenge adversity, and not view it as such at all?  It's just another day in left field, after all.

Obviously, I want them to challenge it, not view it as adversity at all, and keep going.  As I've said in previous posts, everyone has differences.  Our different just happens to have names.  Our different just happens to take a little (lot) more effort sometimes.  Some days, our different just needs a lot more cheerleading. And an early bedtime for everyone.  And a whole lot of humor.

There are still days I want to throw in the towel.  Only several times a day. And there are days my kids do, too.  But that's life for you.  It's not always sunshine and happiness.

I saw this quote from Michael J. Fox and I feel--I hope--as though it embodies what I'm trying to teach my kids about growing up different.

"Acceptance doesn't mean resignation.  It means understanding that something is what it is and there's going to be a way through it."

Wow.  Yes!  

Acceptance comes in all forms, most of them forms of moving forward and not giving up.  Acceptance tries one more time, and celebrates victories.  Acceptance is focus and (positive) response.  Acceptance tries to keep a sense of humor.  Acceptance says, "See ME, look at all the things I can do, look at me the person, not my diagnoses!"  Acceptance is living by cliches such as "Why fit in when you were born to stand out," and "Be yourself, everyone else is already taken." Resignation comes in defeat and victimization, it comes in being defined by your diagnoses, not by who you are.  Resignation comes in not moving forward, in giving up, and using your diagnoses as excuses.

Our biggest lesson in acceptance versus resignation has been that God is in control.  He has to be, because we can't do any of this on our own.  Without God, we truly are resigned to our own human-ness and our diagnoses.

I want my children to accept how God created them, because I know He has His purpose behind it.  I believe I've already seen that purpose several times in Noah.  I want them to be comfortable with who they are, and not worry about what others might think.  I want them to accept their diagnoses, but I do not want them to resign to their diagnoses.

These boys have been, and always will be, tremendous blessings to me.  They are gifts I am able to give back to the rest of the world.  In that turn, I want our family, our stories, to be the light that keeps others moving forward.