Game changer

April 12th 2015. 

It seemed like a day like any other. It was Sunday, so we got up, got the kids ready, and headed for church. 

Naomi didn't seem extra happy, or uneasily unhappy about church. It was just what we were doing, and it was routine and fine. 

Leading up to this game changing day, I had been overwhelmed to hear that my sweet child had "made a new friend at church". This was huge folks. The child who had only ever played with one child outside of our family at that point. Yeah, her. She had made a friend, all.on.her.own. Since that time, she had also been willing to interact with friends that came over a couple of times, which was equally big.

This day though? It was even bigger. 

I walked back to her class after church to pick her up. She was engrossed in playing with a doll house, and I briefly wished it could be one of the weeks she ran to me, knowing I would have to pry her away from it. As I walked in, though, her teacher came up to talk to me. I braced myself. I have come to expect unpleasant news, hearing that she was unusually attached to the teacher, wouldn't follow directions, or the one I really dread, she had hit or kicked another child. This time though I heard something completely unexpected. 

"She did amazing today. She TALKED TO ME. Like she asked me 'can I please play with the doll house'."

At this point I was staring wide eyed. What? My child WHAT? Sure, I hear it all the time. Naomi has an amazing vocabulary, and there are days I regret the 2.5 years of speech therapy she went through because she never.stops.talking. That is at home though. That is with me. Her siblings. Usually her dad. Not her teacher.

The teacher went on.

"She got in the tent with the other kids. We went through the church whispering to people 'Jesus is the good news', and she whispered it in somebody's* ear."

Wait. Wait, this can't be right. She whispered in their ear? She PLAYED IN THE TENT WITH THE OTHER KIDS? This isn't Naomi. Naomi is terrified of people she doesn't know, and touching them is miles from her comfort zone. Naomi also can't handle being in enclosed spaces with people other than her family or the handful of people she's let into her "safe circle". 

It's at this point I don't remember the conversation. It's at this point I broke down and wept tears of joy and gratitude. 

Gratitude to my gracious God, that my precious girl has come so far. Gratitude to this amazing women, who at the beginning of the year had no clue how to handle Naomi, but always listened to what I suggested, and gave my child immeasurable amounts of grace and patience. She will never understand the miracle she has been for my family, she will never comprehend the level in with God has used her to bless my family. 

She's been our game changer.

*the teacher told me who it was. I don't remember. Point is, it is not somebody that Naomi is familiar with.

What I thought autism had stolen

Nae-Nae is such a sweet girl. She just found Rue's Hello Kitty figurine and, despite the fact Rue is sound asleep, tucked it next to her, and when I looked to see what she was doing said "I was just giving Rue-Rue this".

I had big dreams for those two when I found out I would have girls so close in age. Those dreams included them being best friends and doing everything together, walking hand in hand through life, snuggling late into the night talking instead of sleeping.

By the time Ruth was born, it was obvious something was "off" with Naomi, but everybody kept telling us (mostly me) that it was in my head and that she was just different than my older kids. The first year of Ruth's life was a challenge with Naomi, and she hated Ruth. Absolutely hated her. By the end of that first year, I knew beyond a doubt my child was autistic. Rich was coming around to the same realization. My dreams were slowly being completely shattered.

Then something beautiful began to happen. Ruth started engaging Naomi. At first Naomi did not like it, but Ruth was relentless in her admiration of her big sister, and her desire to play. Slowly, day by day, she chipped away at Naomi, until one day they played. I sat in the living room with tears pouring down my face as I watched them. They would chase each other from the living room to the kitchen, and one would climb in the corner cupboard (I believe Ruth), and the other would slam it shut, then climb out and chase back to the living room. They did this for quite some time. Normally this is the kind of play I would not allow, and so many times I was sure fingers would be smashed, but I could not bring myself to stop them. Nobody ended up hurt, thankfully.

From that day on, I saw a transformation, and they played more and more. For a long time, it was always Ruth that started it, but in time Naomi started, too, and eventually they were always together. 

Autism has shaped their relationship in many ways. I've had to give up on some of the dreams that I had for them, like the cuddling and hand holding. It's typically like pulling teeth to get them to hold hands, unless it is to swing each other around. On the rare occasion that Naomi wishes to cuddle, well, let's just say she's a little overbearing. Maybe that, too, will change in time, but for now I revel in the relationship that they share. They are best friends, and not in the way I dreamed-in a much more beautiful, and more profound way than I could have ever pictured. Ruth is Naomi's safety, her constant, and her example. What I thought was stolen by autism has been made indescribably precious by autism.