Dear Addie,
This week, I was reminded of the missing chapter in the infamous first 100 days of autism binder we were handed with your diagnosis: you know, the one titled " Welcome to the Circus." While that might sound like a snarky comment, it's pretty accurate, given our experience thus far. Only our circus, while it has its fair share of clowns as there is no shortage of humor in our house, does resemble a little more of being shot out of a canyon, tight rope walking, and jumping through flaming hoops, to which I might actually add that last one on my next resume - just saying.
There's a lot that comes with this diagnosis, and in addition to throwing everything you thought about parenting out the window in some regard, it also involves endless amounts of doctors, specialists, therapists, psychiatrists, psychologists, and for said parent to have a master's degree or perhaps some PhD in dealing with insurance, or as I like to call them, the flaming hoop of the circus. Just about ninety-nine percent of the things we are advised to do for our children who have autism involve insurance in some form or fashion—blessed to have it, cursed to have to deal with it. The number of hours I've logged to submit claims, reimbursements, or fix clerical errors is disheartening, to say the least. Side note: it took years to finally correct your birthdate in their system from THEIR inputting error! UGHHHHHHHH! It's always something at least once a month. On a journey that can constantly feel like climbing uphill, they can make it seem like climbing a volcano that's preparing to erupt. I can literally feel my blood pressure rise when I have to call them. I honestly don't remember the last time I talked to just one person and solved a problem either; it always takes at least twelve people shaking a magic eight ball for answers before you find the lucky thirteenth person who can actually help. It's like they thought I would just give up or something; they obviously don't know me.
Addie, this week, I jumped through some flaming hoops because I refuse to deny you every resource or opportunity to have something that will help you be the best version of yourself.
I am currently adding insurance to the list of things I will never understand in life. Right up there with silent "k" spellings of words.
You just keep doing amazing things baby girl, I got the hoops.
Love,
Mom
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