When I first began thinking about writing a blog chronicling our family’s journey with autism, I knew that it would be a huge release for me. I also figured that there would be other families who identified with our family, and with our struggles. I knew that not every post would be happy, I expected that there would be some sad days. I am grateful that I have been able to write about so many positive things, as a lot of them have been happening lately.
But I never expected to encounter some of the negative things that we have. Specifically, Jordan’s family has had a hard time dealing with Brayden’s diagnosis, and the effects resulting from it. The painful, resulting actions taken by his family have been a big source of stress for us, especially during a time when we have felt like we can’t bear much more. Up until this point, we have chosen not to write about this component of our lives. We have done so for varying reasons. We wanted to protect them from any judgements, we held out hope that they would come around, we haven’t wanted to make anyone angry. I think somewhere in the back of our minds we wanted to pretend that their complete lack of support wasn’t happening, or was just a phase brought on by the grieving process.
Almost a year into our family’s journey, we have found that these wishful hopes for a quick turnaround will not be the case.
After a long discussion with Jordan, I left it up to him whether or not we would delve into this issue on this site. I know he thought long and hard about it. Ultimately, Jordan told me that this blog (and site) were designed with one purpose – to be honest. Honest about our journey, and all the good (and bad) that comes with it. So with this in mind, and with a heavy heart, I am writing with the hope that some good will come from this entry. Hopefully another family going through a similar situation will identify, or know they are not alone. Maybe it will change for another family how their extended family members approach the diagnosis process, or maybe, just maybe, my in-laws will read these words and let it sink into their hearts…
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When we went through the worst time in our lives – you chose not to be there. It still kills me every time I think about it. You chose this. Letting those words out breaks my heart, for my husband and son. Initially I was shocked. I thought, ‘How could they?’. Brayden was your only grandson, at the time. I knew deep down this was not his fault. And when he is old enough to understand, I will tell him that.
I thought at the time that you were scared. We were incredibly scared, so I could understand. I could understand that you might need some time – time to deal, to breathe, to change all your dreams and plans for our baby boy around in your mind. I am not sure that this is what you needed – you never told us. But we could believe nothing else - we didn’t want to believe that your lack of support was purely a result of the fact that you disagreed. I didn’t want to think that you were being selfish, but I will admit that I thought that, daily. I will also say I resented you for it. We had no time to process our own thoughts, we had no time to be selfish (we still don’t) - and honestly, I was angry that you were not there, that you were completely unsupportive, that you could look at our baby and choose to ignore something that was so obvious, or that you could choose to ignore our repeated cries for help.
I was angry every time I saw my husband and his breaking heart. I was angry when he cried because his parents left him in his time of need. I was angry when we had to bear the weight of this all without you. I was so angry that you, who had been a fantastic mother all your life, could just vanish when you were needed most.
This anger shifted somewhere in these months. I made so many excuses for you - Jordan and I both did. Maybe you didn’t understand, so we tried to educate you. Maybe you were afraid, so we gave you time. Maybe you were stubborn, so we were patient. Maybe you were being controlling, so we tried to set clear boundaries, healthy boundaries. Nothing worked, and we were bruised, dejected, and absolutely heartbroken.
Jordan and I cried so many nights, and thought ‘Will they ever come around?’. So after months of not speaking, when we planned to visit on Easter, we were hopeful. Now that we had the diagnosis, now that we were more educated, maybe we could turn this around, and get back to being a family. We drove to your house with hope in our hearts, but we were both so scared. I watched my husband wring the steering wheel tightly in his hands, until his knuckles were white, and I thought to myself – HOW DID WE GET HERE? I don’t know that Jordan or I have ever figured this out…
When we started talking, we hoped that you would listen, that you would read through the 3 inch binder full of medical records, and diagnostics from the 11 different doctors, and the months that you had been missing. We hoped that you would at least read it before you made up your mind, but that was not to be.
When you started screaming at us, I was thankful that Brayden was napping, and then I was immediately broken. We came looking for the unconditional love and support from a mother, a grandmother. We came trying to give you that chance to finally get it. After the numerous times we had discussed the tumultuous relationship with your own mother-in-law, I believed that you would hear us, and see the pain in our eyes, and maybe see that you had become what you didn’t want to be. But instead you screamed, and banged your fists, and accused us, and blamed us. We still like to think that you didn’t really mean it, but I began to believe in that moment that we would never get through to you.
We left your home with our hearts barely intact, and in the weeks following we tried to gather up the pieces for Brayden. When you sent the package in the mail, with clothes for Brayden, two weeks later – we were more than hurt. We were insulted. How could you not support us or Brayden, but then send him two outfits, like nothing had ever happened? You rejected us all, and you sent clothes - It was truly absurd. The clothes still hang in Brayden’s closet, tags still in tact, as a reminder that love doesn’t come in the form of material possessions. I told you this in the email I sent you – you can’t fit what Brayden needs in a box.
So we existed for the next four months. And though many hurtful things occurred in this time, we concentrated not on how painful the loss of an entire section of our family was, but on our son, his recovery, and his well-being. We spent a lot of time alone, wishing we could pick up the phone and call you. But slowly, over the months we began to be able to breathe again, the pain wasn’t so fresh, and other people came into our lives to fill the giant hole you left. They gave us the support we needed, and we were happy, and coping, and we were okay.
When you didn’t call when our nephew was born, we expected it. We knew this all had sunk to a low level. We were prepared this time, and it didn’t sting like you wanted it to. But when you did tell Jordan ‘Happy Birthday’ last week via a text message, I was grateful that my own family and our friends were there for him. I knew it was hard for Jordan, being the first birthday with not so much as a phone call from his family. And as we sang Happy Birthday with a room full of people, I looked not to Jordan, but to Brayden – thankful that he is still too young to realize that you are not here. Thankful we have more time, to figure out what we are going to say to him…
The next day when you texted Jordan asking him to call, he did not want to call you. He said he knew it would not go well – he didn’t want to go through it again, especially when we were just getting to the place where we felt full and happy. I told him we had to give you every chance to apologize and jump back into our lives. We had to provide you that opportunity. So Jordan picked up the phone…
Currently it is all my fault, and truthfully, I understand that. Someone has to be the villain. I am sure that I am how you justify your actions now, alone in your room, when you think about us – I know you believe this is my fault.
Jordan is brainwashed, I am manipulative, I planned this – all of this, I am plotting to destroy your family, behind your back, behind everyone’s back. Jordan must be miserable, Brayden must be miserable, and all of it – everything is my fault. I accosted your family, telling them they would have autistic babies, scaring them. I tell Jordan everyday, that you don’t love him, that no one loves him, but me, and because of this, and because of Brayden, he is trapped. I am sure you are disgusted with me, ashamed that you eldest son could ever fall into the traps of such a bitch – to put it mildly.
I wish you wanted to see the truth, instead of creating these lies in your head. I wish you took the time to see the truth that is staring you in the face. Brayden is happy, he is finally a part of this world. He is with us, because of me and Jordan, and all our hard work. Jordan and I are so happy, and in love, and stronger in our relationship than we have ever been. Together we have conquered, and still conquer, hell. I believe we are more in love than we have even been because this, all of this, has made us strong. We have picked each other up, been each other’s rock, and together we have the best son in the world. I am thankful every day for you – you gave me the love of my life, and because of him I have our incredible son. I do not hate you. Though I think you are being selfish and stubborn, I believe you know no other way – and I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that you miss out every day. That I can’t call you to tell you how Brayden is doing, or how we are doing. I feel sorry that a person who values family so much is watching hers crumble around her.
I wish you wanted to learn, I wish you wanted to adjust. I wish instead of talking about how your house is going to be controlled or invaded, that you wanted to learn why we have to make the special accommodations and exceptions for Brayden. I wish you wanted to see me, not as the controlling witch that has hijacked your son and grandson, but as the loving wife and dedicated mother who is moving hell to give your family the best life we can hope for. I wish you would choose a different path.
I hope that you don’t look back at your behavior and wish you had done something different. Maybe you won’t – but I think it is important to ask one simple question. Is it worth it? Is it worth it – when you miss the moments and the smiles, and the holidays and vacations, when you miss out on sweet hugs and laughter – Will being RIGHT be worth it?
With or without you, we will be okay. We will not back down from our requests. To be a part of our lives you have to accept us, ALL OF US. You will have to make exceptions and accommodations that you do not want to make. You will have to push aside your selfish stubbornness, and replace it with unwavering support and love. You will have to educate yourself, and you will have to be willing to spend the time, the hours and hours of time, learning about what your grandson needs. You will have to let everything else go…all the negative, all the guilt trips, all the fear – and put some real effort into repairing a severely damaged relationship.
If you are ever ready, we will be here. We always have been. But as I have said many times to you…You are now responsible for where this all goes. If you want to fix it, if you want to try, you need to contact us. You need to make the choice to be a part of our lives. I remain hopeful that you will see the error of your ways, I remain hopeful that you will come to your senses, I remain hopeful that you will realize what you are doing to yourself, your son, your grandson, and to me. I remain hopeful that you realize what you are missing out on, and that you will decide to start acting like a family again.
We’re here whenever you are ready…