Therapy Mom: Parenting Approach to Autism

I was very sure about my parenting choices before I gave birth.  That's what you get with inexperience and certainty.   I had decided, in a grandiose thumbed-nose to fate, that I would give no medicines to my child, not even an aspirin, (index finger pointed heavenward) to ensure his pure, organic health.  You can guess what happened, right?  My son was born with a life-threatening illness that required six weeks of intensive, medical care, beginning with intravenous drugs, immediately.  And I realized how lucky, how extremely lucky, we were that the right medical care was available.

And it didn't end there.  At eight months old, my child started therapy and at three and a half years old, he was diagnosed with autism.  You could say we've been around the medical block a few times.
 
After all that, I wondered if I even had a parenting method.  There are so many choices, from tiger mom to free-range parenting.   But, when I entered the autism therapy world, I felt that my parenting technique was chosen for me.  Not Tiger Mom, not Free-Range Mom.  It was Therapy Mom.

I am part of the most recent generation of autism parents, where autism is diagnosed earlier, and early intervention is identified as critical.  Professionals' advice often feels like a TV commercial: Act now! This deal will never be offered again!  Such intense emphasis is put on the ages of zero to five that we feel compelled to do and try everything. 

Within minutes of our child being diagnosed, we are told that we should move quickly, get treatment often, and for all possible deficits.  We feel as if our child's entire life is at stake.  If we don't act, we put our child's mental health, happiness, and success on the line.  We operate at a breakneck speed.  We have to get therapy, get it now, figure out which therapy, and how many times.  We scramble for more time, more therapies, and more therapists. 

And we are never, ever allowed to think about doing no therapy.  

Lorraine Duffy Merkl wrote an essay for the New York Time's Motherlode blog about cutting back on therapy.  For the first time, her daughter has free time to play.

She's thirteen.

Lorraine described it as doing "nothing," and the quotes are hers.  Some readers took the "nothing" literally and chided Lorraine for encouraging parents to ignore early intervention, arguing that parents will miss the the window of opportunity.  They said that the question is finding the right therapy, as if that's what Lorraine failed to do.  Even supportive readers agreed that the choice is between more therapy or less therapy.

The problem is that doing no therapy is not the same as doing nothing.  My child is not doing nothing when he's not at a therapy session.   What about the big picture of what it is to be human?  Like helping my child discover the things that bring him joy?  Or how to deal with stress?  How to find a sense of identity? How to gain a sense of mastery?  How to fail?  How to feel at ease with uncertainty?

When did our children go from human beings with a need for joy, trust, security, and optimism like every  child to merely a checklist of specialist skills?

The emphasis on therapy for autism is understandable, but misplaced.  Professionals tend to view the child in parts, parts in their field of specialization.  They analyze skills for weaknesses.  They dissect him into problems with discrete parts and goals.

But my child is not a set of specialized skills.  He is not discrete parts.  He is not a set of behaviors.  He is infinitely more complex. 

I can encourage my child's interests and passions, explore the world with him, encourage him to connect with others, to find more sources of joy.  If there's only one thing I do for my child,  it's to become a partner in the exploration of his interests.  Then I'll know that I've laid a foundation for his life, a foundation that will help him discover lifelong joy.

And that's not nothing.


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