The Prescription

Dear Addie,

This week, we started our Operation Break the Cycle for your anxiety-induced vomiting syndrome. Now while we are seeing progress (we are so very proud of you) and have indeed made it to the ocean, it's quite clear that we are not yet out of the woods. As a result, Operation Break the Cycle has taken on a second mission: Operation Patience.

Allow me to explain.

After what feels like a sudden shift that has caused weeks of anxiety and disruption in ways we never could have imagined, we are moving forward in our efforts to break this cycle with finding activities that traditionally would bring you joy - insert prescription beach, which I'm confident has unlimited refills...but I digress. We were especially excited to fill this prescription for enjoying the salty sea air this week because it was the week you were supposed to participate in Surfing for Autism with your best friend, Dylan. We have all enjoyed this event together for the past few years and it was sad to think it might not happen because of all this. With no expectations for how the day would unfold, we decided to throw caution to the wind and head off to the event, hoping you would have enough energy to participate.

I promise, Addie, this is one of the coolest events for everyone, from spectators to participants. The beach always has such a supportive, loving, and fun vibe, and this year did not disappoint. While the atmosphere was great, I could sense your hesitation as we walked along the warm sand towards our friends, who were already enjoying their time surfing amidst the increasing sounds of excitement.

As your mom, I won’t lie—I hoped that a light switch would flip, and our joyful Addie would return. Unfortunately, instead, I saw you standing in front of me, having lost so much weight that your bathing suit had become baggy, struggling to find the joy you once felt here. You plopped down onto the sand and waited as patiently as you could for us to set up the blanket and shade for the day. You voiced your displeasure a few times with some loud, dinosaur-like yelling before spotting your friend Dylan in the water and taking off to join him. Just a side note: Gone are the days of testing the water; we now enter it like water buffalo chasing after prey! Once your feet hit the water you could visably see some peace wash over you. There was a glimpse that this ocean medicine was going to work! With your heat time still about an hour away we were hopeful that you would try and ride some waves - fingers crossed.

As we approached your check-in time, we asked you, "Do you want to surf?" You, surprising us all, enthusiastically replied, "Surf yeah!" With that, we headed to check in, got fitted for a vest, and met your surfing team. The whole process felt very natural, as if you knew exactly what to expect. This predictability was a positive change, making us feel like we were at least chipping away at breaking the cycle.

You then walked into the ocean like a mermaid heading home. Of course, you're not a mermaid; they usually don't walk unless they encounter an evil sea witch who steals their voice and gives them legs to fall in love with a prince. But anyway, back to you: you ventured into the ocean, and after a little coaxing, they got you on the board. Not gonna lie you looked every bit of unprepared to ride the waves, sitting in a crisscross-applesauce position looking like a sea princess letting people push you to and fro on your surf board while you enjoyed the view and warm ocean breeze.

After almost an hour of them playfully pushing you around, you all emerged from the water, posed for a few pictures, said thank you, and then promptly headed back in to splash around some more.

Addie, we had no idea if you were going to be able to surf and enjoy this event this year. For something that seemingly happened like the flip of a switch, the reality is you can't just flip the switch back to make everything normal again. The truth is it could be months until we find what might be our new normal and really feel whole again, but we are committed and have to believe we will get there.

We know your days are hard, but you are not alone and we are so very proud of you, every minute of every single day. We see how hard you are working baby girl - keep it up and rest if you need too.

We love you so much.

Mom