After yesterday's difficulties, my son had a much more normal day today. But what's normal in the world of an autistic child? I've been asking myself that for years now. 

So it's time to go back. To the time that I was married and my husband and I wanted to have children. Now I think it may have been just me that wanted them but, nevertheless we did this together. 

The journey of my son started in 2006. My husband and I had decided years before that that we were going to have kids. My husband was not able to, I was, but IVF and all of that was far too expensive. Imagine. $25,000 just to TRY and have a baby.  But, my husband being a little selfish, decided that he couldn't handle someone else's baby with me actually getting to be pregnant with some other mans child. I relented and gave in to the argument that it wasn't right for him. The next conversation came up, adoption. We both agreed that it may be the best way to make the child both of ours and we started the process. It took 3 long years and lots of home visits and tests and classes but we were finally approved. I remember calling my mother weekly and crying about wanting a baby so badly and she kept telling me don't worry it'll happen. In 2009 me and my husband got married. Prior to that we had many matches come our way but none of them seemed right. A few girls with sexual abuse issues I could deal with because I am a survivor but my husband couldn't do it. He said to me, "what happens when I want to hug her or give her a kiss? She may think I'm like those other people that hurt her". Ultimately he couldn't take the first girls that came so we waited. We met my daughter first.  She was this bubbly little 3 year old, who never slept because of her ear nose and throats issues and was so excited to meet us. We instantly fell in love with her. When we visited her, my soon to be son, Jake,  was shaking away in his crib every time we saw him.  the foster mother said his mother was addicted to crack cocaine so he is in withdrawal.  My heart just broke and I told my husband I said I want him. He's going to be my son. He scoffed at me, and said we only wanted one.  I said no way.  I want a son.  I watched how much my mother loved my brother when he was young, and how much fun he was when he was a little older, muddy most of the time, inquisitive, and just so smart.  He loved his Thomas the Trains, and Super Heroes.  And I always felt like I partially raised him too.  My mom was a single mother as well.

So a year went by and we loved out little daughter more and more and they called us about Jake and said do you want him.  My answer? A thousand yes pleases. 

My son came home just before Xmas 2010 and what an amazing gift he was. 

Unfortunately for my little family of 4, the marriage dissolved and my husband turned into the non existent father and we left him and we moved closer to my work in Ottawa. 

Once he started school, in Kindergarten, he started to fight with other kids. He would bite them, hit them, yell at them and scream in their faces.  The teacher would call me a few times a week and let me know who else he had bitten and that their parents were mad at my son and calling him a beast. Meanwhile something was happening with him and I couldn't figure out what.  

Time went on, and he got worse. By Senior kindergarten, he had teamed up with two other boys in his class and he was getting sent home daily by his amazing public school. Note my sarcasm. I would literally be standing over a decided person and they would call and say "can you come and pick up your son? He's causing so many problems and we can't handle him" I was absolutely beside myself with anger.  By the end of 2013, my work was suffering in the section I was assigned to, and people were starting to notice that I had zero sleep and zero patience and my sassiness was really rampant.  The school finally asked me to do an assessment, so I agreed. The Psychologist said that Jake had ADHD for sure. Now, let me say that I had an idea that he may have it when we adopted him but actually hearing those words for sure, was like oh my god? What do I do next.  Luckily I got in touch with another psychologist for an official diagnosis and we were off to the races. He took five minutes with him and said he's the psychiatrist go see him for medication. He's going to need it.  I know most of you are reading this and asking yourselves where is their father?  Well. He didn't think there was anything wrong with him and yelled and screamed at him when he would go to his house for visits. And when i finally nailed down the medication that worked and didn't make my son a zombie from the Walking Dead or a homicidal  maniac, he would refuse to give him the medication. It was helping my son to fail and he would be exhausted from the weekend of no sleep, no medication, no rules, and lots of sugar and fun. I noticed that for both of my children going there was awful for them and their routine and it would take all weeks to balance them out.  Needles to say I was exhausted and fed up, and still working my shift work, because I love my job.  

I have some friends that have a son and daughter that they adopted and I called my friend who is now like my sister in arms.  She told me about all kinds of support both mental, emotionally and financially and set me on my path of research. I applied to everything I could find to get help for my son, and went to the psychiatrist and chatted with him. He called one day and said "we need to chat, can you come in?" Being a police officer, those talks are either FYI someone died, or FYI you're in trouble,or FYI someone complained about me. But I had to remind myself Nikki! You're not work, it's about your son. And then my heart started racing like I was going to a medial call of a baby not breathing.   I remember driving to the appointment with my son and thinking what else can it be? And the psychiatrist brought me in and said "Remember that paperwork you filled out about Autism?" I said yeah. He said "Well,  Jacob is on the spectrum, Nicole he's Autistic". 

Silence. 

I blinked. 

"Nicole?" said the Doctor.

I felt the warm tears and my heart still racing. 

A small hand with a tissue came to me from my right side and I took it. 

"Momma? Am I ok?" Said Jacob. 

I blinked again and the tears poured down. And then instant anger. Why isn't their father here too? Why am I going through this all alone? Why is my son like this? Oh my god, it's HER fault. I hate her for this. She couldn't stop her habit long enough so my son could have a good fighting chance. 

"Nicole?" said the doctor again.

"Momma?"

And my son, my now Autistic son, who always had a hard time snuggling and hugging, hugged me so tight and said, "it's ok, Momma, I love you, the doctor will make it better." 

And then I cried.  Long and hard sobbing. Like the crying you have when you are in grief or loss or you just had horrible news. The doctor said "I know it's hard, but we will set you up with some information, and we have to get him settled into a good school. Because him getting suspended all the time isn't helping."

I left the office with prescription for medication and my son and we went home and I cried all the way there.  My son, sensing my pain, kept telling me how amazing I was, and how cool of a Momma I was as a police officer and helping people and how awesome it was. Bless his little heart, he was sad for me and still trying to please me. 

We got home, and I called my mom, and she said "you're doing the right thing my girl. Keep fighting  for those babies, because imagine what their lives would be like without you". 

And I have continued to fight since that day for both of my children. Because she's right. What if I hadn't adopted them?