“She won’t be like everyone else.” That prevailing thought has invaded my mind since Julia was diagnosed with ASD. Truth be told, that thought has terrified me. What does difference mean for Julia? What does difference mean for John and I and our growing family? Here’s what we have discovered so far:
How difference looks: It looks like me standing in a crowd bent down at eye level with my daughter who’s having a moment where it’s hard for her to gain her composure. I can feel the eyes on me all around me, but I keep my eyes straight ahead—on her. Always on her. It probably looks like a mother giving into a spoiled child. Who cares what it looks like? It’s not. But what it looks like doesn’t matter. Together, we find each other in the moment and we move on.
How difference feels: It feels like hot…
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