Trusting My Gut as a Military Mom
Since birth, we knew Emmett was unique. Our daughter was three when Emmett was born, and they were similar in their sweet, loving natures, but my gut nagged me that there was something different this time. I first approached our pediatrician with my concerns when Emmett was 18 months old. The doctor dismissed my worries immediately and suggested everything was “normal”.
Time passed, and Emmett‘s struggles became more noticeable. Nearly every day at daycare, there was an incident report to review, and it became clear that his teachers did not know how to help him. I approached his pediatrician about these issues, but she ignored me again. Instead, the doctor offered me information on parenting classes and suggested we find new childcare.
Standing Up for My Child’s Needs
Months of challenges dragged on. Emmett was unhappy at daycare, and my stress level skyrocketed with worry of being removed from the program. I scheduled yet another visit to the doctor, and this time I was prepared to stand up for my son.
By the time the doctor arrived in the office, Emmett was zooming around the room, shrieking, and climbing on the furniture, having disrupted every item in the room. I again expressed my concerns to the pediatrician, who handed me a pamphlet for family counseling. I planted myself firmly between the doctor and the door, insisting that we get an evaluation. When the pediatrician again tried to push therapy as the solution, I pointed out that the brochure she had handed me was for the very organization in which I was currently employed. I was being referred to myself! The pediatrician then looked at my son, around the disheveled room, and wrote the referral.
Forgiving Myself and Accepting the Diagnosis
I had been working as a professional counselor for years when Emmett was diagnosed with autism and ADHD. I had long suspected ADHD, but the autism diagnosis caught me off guard. My guilt was immense, and my shame deep. How could I have missed this? What kind of counselor, what kind of mother, was I that I didn’t see the signs? I struggled to forgive myself for not fighting harder, earlier. I gave myself time to process and sit with my feelings. I reminded myself that I was doing the best I could with the information I had. I knew I needed to learn more to understand my child and his needs, so I got to work.
Learning to Advocate for My Autistic Child
I reached out to anyone who would talk to me about autism or life with an autistic child. I signed up for a parent support program, took professional certification courses on autism, and worked to get training for the daycare staff so they could better understand my child. I learned to push back when necessary and to advocate for my child’s needs. I learned to ask more questions and seek clarification to gain a deeper understanding.
Along with building my own knowledge, I worked to help Emmett understand how autism impacts him and that while he has struggles others may not face, this in no way makes him less than anyone else. I continually make efforts to translate and build my knowledge into my work as a therapist supporting neurodiverse clients and their families, as well as into my role as a mother to two neurodiverse children. I now encourage and demand that every teacher, doctor, or professional who encounters my son meet his needs and hopefully has more patience and understanding to offer the next autistic child they encounter.
Moving Forward as a Military Family
I continue the work every day. There are IEP meetings to attend, as well as OT, speech, and social support programs to find and join. Every PCS move means starting the process anew, searching for doctors who won’t argue or dismiss me, teachers who will understand and support my child, and meeting new peers who I pray will be kind to my wonderful son.
When I think about the early days of navigating the diagnosis, I no longer feel sad. I see how much I have grown as a mother, therapist, and advocate. I am fortunate beyond measure to have a family that supports Emmett with love and kindness. However, the navy requires my husband to be away often, his encouragement and involvement with our children never wavers.
I know I am doing my best, and the reward for this hard work comes in the form of Emmett’s positive self-regard. Emmett recently shared, “I love my brain. I love my autism. It makes me special. It helps me remember things, do things, and just be me. I love me.”
I love you too, Emmett.
About the Author
Dr. Alicia Brengman works in suicide prevention as part of the Navy’s SAIL program, along with having a private counseling practice that primarily focuses on working with neurodiverse individuals and their families. Alicia is an active volunteer and advocate for military families and autistic children.
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