Beginning Of The Journey

So sorry friends for going silent for almost 10 days.  Wading through the diagnosis and finding our path has been taking up a good portion of our time.  Well, my time.  The past few days have been heavily weighed with phone calls to different centers for evaluations, copying files to be sent to become parts of other files, filling family members in on where we are in our journey and researching for our own personal benefit and peace of mind.

And in the middle of all of that, Claire began her preschool journey.  On February 14, Claire and I headed to the school for a tour and a meet and greet with her new classmates.  The classroom was quite busy.  Children running excitedly, and Claire wasn't quite sure what to make of it, so she kind of hung back while the teacher and I discussed what happens in the room.  We saw her locker.  We took a tour of the bathroom, where Claire will go with her classmates, but won't use, since she is still not potty trained and really now caring about the potty in any way, shape or form.  Since she isn't a fan of the automatic flushing and the hand dryers, they take her across the hall to wash her hands while the rest of the class finishes their business.  In the special education classroom, she can wash her hands quietly and dry her hands with paper towels.  She has a special, visual schedule, and a box just for her that has small toys to redirect her attention during times that may be difficult for her, such as circle time and times when others are singing, because she is NOT a fan of people singing.

On February 16, Claire and I got up.  We had breakfast.  I got her dressed.  I took a picture that Claire was unhappy about because it's a day I want to remember.



And away we went to school.  She was apprehensive and clung to me for quite some time.  I didn't get to leave until almost 9:15 when school begins at 8:20 and is over by 10:50.  She was glad to see the teachers she knew, upset by being asked to join circle time and enraged by being asked to take part in table activities.  Free time began, and I was able to quietly slip out and walk away, apprehensive myself.  And, in all honesty, shed a tear, or more.  It made me sad to leave her, but I know it's best for her.  She needs this help, and getting it for her now is best.  And, she'll be getting as much help here as she needs before we can get her medical diagnosis and get her even more help.

Autism is not completely new to me, as I've worked with children with Autism before, but having it in my own life now is.  I'm doing what I can here, they are doing what they can there, and we are waiting, waiting, waiting for more help.  It'll come, we just have to be patient.  And we're lucky to have such wonderful support behind us.

Hectic

Diagnosis day has come and gone, but things haven't slowed down since.

Claire saw the pediatrician yesterday for a referral for her official, medical diagnosis so we can start receiving services outside of the primary school.  The appointment didn't exactly go as planned.  I felt as though I was unheard, I was talked over, I was given suggestions that I didn't feel were relevant to what is wrong with my daughter.  I did get the referral though, and came straight home to make the appointment.

However, this also went awry.  Children't Hospital and Clinics of Minneapolis is no longer accepting patients because their waiting list, as well as their reserve cancellation list, are 3 months long.  I was given numbers for several other locations.  I called my insurance to check if these providers were in network.  Three of them were.  I called, and was transferred to voicemail after voicemail after voicemail.  At this point, I'm feeling a little lost, a little stressed out and a lot really not sure what to do, where to go, or how to help her from here.

I've put some of my knowledge working for the Wisconsin Early Autism Project to use.  I've made file folder games.  I've tried teaching her the limited sign language I know.  I sing her songs that she tries to echo.  When she reaches for something, I say the name of it at least twice so she knows it has a label.  And, I make it my mission for her to look at me.

Every day I wake up though, ready to take this on.  Early intervention is key.  With the right tools, we can take this on, together.