Autism: Expect The Unexpected

Hey everyone! So happy you stopped by to check out my blog and learn more about my personal experiences raising an amazing little girl on the spectrum.

If you found your way here, it’s because you first made a visit to my website, Curvy Creationz. So, I thank you for that as well. Likewise, If you’ve been following my craft and parenting journey via social media, you’ve seen some of the good (Taylor’s improvements/feel good pics and vids) and the not-so-good moments in our lives (securing our home like Ft. Knox after Taylor’s elopement from the house into the community). At times, it may appear that we have it all together. But that is definitely not the case and even furthest from the truth seven to five years ago.

I’ll explain how I got into crafts later since it is a form of therapy for me and this blog and my site discusses the importance of mental health too. But for now, I’ll just catch you guys up and talk about my family’s current space and a little history on how we got here. Trust me, I’ll try to keep it short.

So, before the world as we knew it changed and our lives were forever transformed by COVID-19, I had my own personal dilemma I was dealing with that started 7 ½  years ago.

Taylor was born February of 2014. I came home from the hospital on my 30^th birthday to be exact. Special day huh? She was 9 lbs even. Huge baby. I was already the mother of a 10-year-old son and so the idea of having a little girl I could spoil was super exciting. Until, I noticed the first sign of trouble.

At first, I thought nothing of it…until later. They do say hindsight is 20/20 right? Well, starting at about 2 weeks old, Taylor would cry nonstop. Mainly during the night. For the life of me I couldn’t understand why. Now, I am pretty sure it was related to her neurocognitive condition and sensory processing problems. I checked all the major checkboxes. She was fed, changed, entertained, loved on, swaddled, cleaned, burped, rocked, and more! Unfortunately, the crying wouldn’t stop. I was a walking zombie.

Someone said, “Try gripe water, she may have gas.” I flew to the grocery store to buy some. Didn’t help. The doctor had me change her formula to something she could digest more easily. I was picking up cases of milk from the pharmacy. Her milk had to be prescribed. That didn’t really help either.

One night I said, “Ok, F$%^ this, I’m going to the ER. There has to be something else wrong.” At that point in time, I was getting about 2-3 hours of choppy sleep a day. I couldn’t take it. The doctors in the ER said that she was constipated. They gave her a suppository in the hospital and sent me home with some too. The following days after we got back home, I thought that I saw a decline in the amount of crying she was doing. But, not really. I was so confused.

Later, I noticed she wasn’t saying any words.

Then, I noticed she wasn’t really interested in certain toys that I thought she should be.

Her dad asked, “Do, you think something’s wrong with her?” I said, “Nah, I think she’s ok.” But in the back of my head, I thought it was possible. However, the fact that I just knew something like this wouldn’t happen to me…to us…overpowered everything else. So, I guess you can say we ignored the signs until….

She started Pre-K at age 3. Then it all became quite obvious. Her functioning wasn’t typical.

She wasn’t able to perform and follow directions like the other 3-year-olds kids. She needed help with eating, using the potty, sitting in a circle, staying on task, and more. It wasn’t until grandparent’s day, when her dad’s mom noticed that she was behaving differently. Her grandmother was an educator of over 30 years and said, “This stops today! She has obvious differences and it’s time to realize that.”

After that, Taylor was diagnosed with ASD following several tests, I left my full-time job with the support of her dad, and we began the journey of seeking out ways to support her and cater to her needs.

And here we are. Working. Pushing. Loving. Learning. Growing.