Today is our eleven -year anniversary of our wedding day. So many things have changed. Because I waited until I was 33 years old to get married, we tried right away to have kids. It took over a year, but finally, my life was filled with happiness finding out I was expecting our first child. He was born June 22, 1999, after 44 hours of labor, and a c-section. He was beautiful. The first time they brought him to me, all I could see was his fat legs kicking. Then, I started talking, and as he was moved closer still inside his portable hospital bed, I saw his face, with his big brown eyes, turn instantly towards my voice. It was love at first sight. Jared Matthew was son number one. He developed normally; he had some problems with learning to nurse. But once he figured it out, he did so for the next nine months.
Then seventeen months later came the second happiest moment of my life, meeting baby son number two, Dylan Michael, who entered this world on December 4, 2000, on a dark starry morning when it was -40 degrees. He had to fight his way into this world, as he stopped breathing, and need to be revived twice, due to having persistent fetal circulation. From there he was in NICU for 8 days, and seven long nights.
He went home with oxygen and a heart monitor. I thought all of the stress from having son number two was causing the regressions I noticed in son number one.
But now that I look back, I know differently. Jared began talking at 10 months, and was a late walker at 15 months, but I blamed that on him being built like a sumo wrestler. It started with a roving rash after the MMR. Then hyperactivity, running away, not answering his name, losing words, speech regressing into gibberish, the constant screaming tantrums and night terrors, that sounded so alarming it made your heart beat faster, being asked to leave public places like restaurants, beauty shops and stores, because he could not be consoled or calm himself. It is all kind of a blur, as I was so overwhelmed, and our marriage was very much tested. It would take all my strength to try to calm Jared, and take care of Dylan, and then my husband, being a type A person, would be upset and start yelling at me.... out of frustration. Then before long I would be in tears. But somehow, we kept together. The following summer, in June, shortly after his second birthday, and more vaccines, he regressed extremely in toileting skills, and feeding skills or being able to use his fingers. He regressed in relating socially, recognizing emotions (like when mom was mad) and responsiveness to others, especially those outside of the family. I thought it odd he wanted nothing to do with is Grandma when she visited from Texas. I took Dylan in to the project teach, early infant services...because I knew he may have learning problems due to his oxygen deprivation, and to the fact he wasn't talking or babbling by 9 mos. While there, with Jared, age 2 and a half, the speech therapist asked, "What about your older son?" I said, "oh he is extremely bright, why he can do 24 and 30 piece puzzles in less than 5 minutes and he is only 2. He can match all the videos in the correct video boxes by the letters and he is terrific with Lego building." But the speech therapist pointed out his gibberish, and difficulty being understood. Being a sped. teacher, and use to understanding inarticulate children, I understood most of what he wanted or needed. But had to admit, there was mostly gibberish with only a few understandable words. Thank God for that interventionist, as Jared was soon getting speech, physical, and occupational therapy. Dylan was getting speech therapy too. This was the start of a long journey for our family and marriage, of learning why we had so many unusual stressors, why our kids couldn't sit still quietly at church, or play with other kids, and yet we stuck it out. Jared ended up being placed in a special ed. preschool, and getting private therapies, which all help tremendously. My husband and I took turns as we sat on the floor and invaded Jared's rigid play, doing floortime therapy without even knowing it. At times, I feel a bit obsessive about learning everything I can about interventions for children with autism and ways to advocate for them. My husband is patient and supportive, when we have battles with the school district in which I am employed over the services for our children's special needs. It would take me all day to write all about the past nine years, or eleven years of marriage. But I can sum it up by saying, it hasn't been easy, and it hasn't all been fun. But I can't imagine how I could have gotten through it alone. So to you Ray, my husband of eleven years, I want to say, "I love you, and Happy Anniversary"!