It’s Not a Death Sentence: The Other Side of the Gift
By: Danielle N. Williams
Tags: Autism, Education Reform, Special Needs, Parenting Advice, Parents

I remember the day I found out my oldest son, Allen was diagnosed with Autism. I was a special education teacher in a middle school and I did not want this to happen to me. I did not want this STIGMA on myself, my family or my son.

One day, I was sulking around the teacher’s cafeteria and my friend Tracey looked at me. She knew I was visibly upset and had noticed the change in my attitude, demeanor and presence for the entire week. She asked me “what was wrong?” and I told her what the doctor’s said about Allen. When I finished crying and yelling, Tracey looked at me, straight in the eyes and said “it’s not a death sentence, Danielle. You are the right mother for your son.”

In that moment, in that one glimpse, my life changed. I do not know what hit me, but I knew I could do it. I knew all the hopes and dreams I thought my child would not have could be achieved. How? By hard work, determination and advocacy. So on that day, I wiped my eyes and began the journey for independence and clarity. I began to be me and to cultivate my son’s gifts to show the world everything he can do regardless of his diagnosis.

Fast forward, a year later and I was pregnant with my third child. I had previously lost my other son (Daniel Nicholas) on Mother’s Day 2010 in my womb. I remember saying to myself “why am I trying to have another baby?” Various people said to me “you know, Danielle, the statistics are if your first child has Autism then more than likely your next child will be special needs too.” I was scared, frightened and distraught. But something in me, spoke to me and told me I had to have another child.

I saw something in Allen. He constantly showed me he was a caretaker and he needed to take care of someone. Allen hated to see me cry, upset or angry. He would rub my arm or my head to show me he was there. I knew in my soul I had to have another baby, not for me but as a gift for Allen.

And so I did. Aaron Nicholas was born in 2012 and I remember when Allen came to the hospital to see me. He called him “Eric” because he could not pronounce “Aaron”. Allen held Aaron in his arms and immediately told him he loved him. He smiled and kissed him. I witnessed a true gentle spirit, taking on the responsibilities of the world in his little brother. Allen asked me, “Is he mine, mommy?” and I told him “Yes, he is yours, he is my gift to you.”

Aaron has his own special needs. He is a speech impaired child who suffered hearing loss. He received early intervention like his brother and we began the journey again. But this time I was prepared. I knew what to do, say and address. I strategized and sought advice from numerous experts. But overall, I believed in him unconditionally, like his brother Allen did and that is what made the difference. Aaron loves his family. He is the kindest soul I have even met. He makes me happy when I see him and demands I smile at him on every encounter. Aaron is the life of the party and shows the word that he is unstoppable.

So here we are in 2019 and I have two boys with disabilities. Allen, a 6th grader who has Autism, ADHD and receives OT, speech and counseling. He is in a specialized school for children with Autism and other disabilities. Then there is Aaron, a 2nd grader who has a speech and language impairment and receives OT, speech and counseling. He is educated in an ICT class and attends public school in Queens. With the help of family and friends, I manage both of the boy’s academic programs, social adventures and related services. I manage two schools, two bus routes and six related service providers. I take off days from work to ensure both school communities know who I am and the investment I have made in my children. At the end of the day, I am the expert of my boys because I live with them every day.

I say all of this to tell parents of children with special needs there is hope. This journey is long but you can and will get through it. There are days which will give you pause. There are days you will doubt everything about this journey and your parenting skills, but rest assured you are doing an amazing job raising your children to strive to their potential and reach beyond it.

Allen and Aaron have given me more joy, peace and comfort that I can ever ask for. The unconditional love I have received from them (even when they both could not utter a word) filled my soul completely. They amaze me every day and surpass my expectations even when I have doubts. They forgive me when at times, I just want them to be “normal” when in fact they are normal, it is me who is different.

Remember whatever your child’s diagnosis is…. It’s Not a Death Sentence…. It’s just the beginning.