Giveaway! Era Organics Baby Care Line

As a mom, I am always looking for healthy, safe, natural products to use on my little ones.  With 3 very young children, I try to research the heck out of anything I put on their skin and in their bodies.   I’m sure you’ve seen the news stories that have popped up within the last year about Johnson & Johnson having cancer causing chemicals in their products, and also Jessica Alba’s company Honest Baby and their mini-scandal of using a chemical in their products that they tell consumers to avoid!

 

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With those being two top contenders in the baby care world, you may be wondering what other options are out there.  I am really excited to share about my new favorite baby care line from Era Organics!  I’ve always used natural skincare products on my children, but haven’t ever been blown away by the products I’ve used, so I thought I would take a break from our usual Babyganics and try something new for Peach’s sensitive skin.  Queue a middle of the night nursing and Amazon perusal and Honeybuns baby wash showed up 2 days later on my doorstep. (Thank you Amazon Prime!)  That night we gave it a test run for bath time and I was an immediate fan.  The texture of the baby wash was concentrated, and a little went a really long way.  The scent was calming and pleasant.  I really dislike heavily scented skincare products (so I’ve never been able to stomach the scent of products like Burt’s Bees for babies). The scent of the Honeybuns wash is very mild, but appealing and calming.  

 

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I started talking with the folks at Era Organics because after trying out a lot of other brands like California Baby, Mustela, Babyganics, and Aveeno (which is owned by Johnson & Johnson!), I was so glad to be using a product that was natural AND effective, a combo really lacking in the natural product world. They informed me that they had just released an entire Honeybuns baby care line, and I knew I had to try the rest!

 

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One of the great things about the Honeybuns line is that it cares not only for baby but for MAMA!  YAY!  It’s really telling when a company chooses to care for moms, too!  Their baby and mama line includes Honeybuns Baby Body Wash, Healing Balm (incredible for dry skin and also works on cradle cap!), diaper balm, and Baby Powder (talc-free! Uses organic cornstarch and arrowroot as its base).  The mommy components of the line are Mommy Balm for sore nursing breasts (I’m past the ouchie newborn latch stage, but I love this for when I am tender nursing during my period), and Belly Oil for stretch marks and dry irritated skin on your tummy and thighs– this stuff smells like HEAVEN, it’s like a mini-spa treatment every time i put it on!  Each of the products are organic, cruelty-free, and non-GMO.  There are NO PARABENS!  This is a big deal to me, and the reason why I switched to all natural products as a new mother 4 years ago.  

 

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As I mentioned earlier, I feel like there’s a great divide between products that are natural and safe, and products that pack a powerful punch but are full of stuff I don’t want on my baby’s skin.  You can tell that the formulas that Era Organics uses are thoughtful and science based, not just thrown together willy nilly.  These products have made a difference on my skin and on Peach’s skin (and its been great on my toddler and preschooler’s skin, too!)

 

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I truly believe in these products and I am SUPER excited to share with you that Era Organics has offered a set of their ENTIRE  Honeybuns skin care line for one lucky winner on our Facebook page, so head over to She Rocks the Cradle on Facebook to enter through April 24th!  Era Organics has also offered a 25% off discount for She Rocks the Cradle readers using the code CRADLE25 through the end of May in their Amazon storefront!  I am so thankful for their generosity, and I can’t wait for you to try out their products.  You’ll have to let me know how you like it once you try their products out– you wont be disappointed.

 

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Here are the quick links to the Honeybuns products on Amazon! Don’t forget to use our CRADLE25 coupon code for 25% off, and be sure to share your purchase through the social share buttons on Amazon when you add these items to your cart!

 

Honeybuns Baby Wash

Honeybuns Healing Balm

Honeybuns Diaper Balm

Honeybuns Baby Powder

Belly Oil for Mama

Mommy Balm

 

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Hazards of Housewifery

I’m pretty sure that being a home maker is supposed to be a fairly safe occupation. Unless you’re me.
  

I’ve been trying to get our house all kid-proofed and safe for our home inspection. Milkman and I are on the road to becoming Foster parents and we are sooooo close to finishing all our pre-requirements. 

We had our inspection all set for Monday morning and I planned on doing one last clean-up throughout the house on Sunday. Mamitas and Peach were both sick so I stayed home from church with them and Milkman and Captain headed to church.

After watching a sermon on YouTube here at home, I set to cleaning up the house. We have been inundated with boxes lately (I have an Amazon problem… You don’t know my life, don’t judge!) I went to toss a couple boxes in the backyard and my ever so loose joints failed me once again!

My right ankle completely gave out and I fell down the back steps into the backyard and landed hard on a sideways left foot. Poor Mamitas was not very helpful at retrieving my phone for me, so I crawled inside to call Milkman home from church.

4 days, 3 doctors and and some X-rays later, I’m in a cast with 3 fractures in my left foot. The kicker is I can’t put any weight on it, which kind of cancels out oh! Everything you have to do as a mother. No cooking, cleaning, or carrying the baby. 
 

 
Hopefully I’ll be able to share some rad tips after this about how to parent 3 children 4 and under and qualify to be a foster parent at the same time all with a broken foot. But I kind of think at the end of it my best tip will be: don’t break your foot. 

Pretty sound advice, right? Here’s to the first broken bone of my 30’s!

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GIVEAWAY! Boost Your Morning Brew, with Lifeboost!

Successful parenting can be chalked up to several things.  Patience, love, creativity, flexibility, and coffee.  Let’s be real, coffee should be at the top of that list.  I don’t think ours is the only household for which coffee is a near-sacred ritual.  It goes beyond the caffeine in our home.  For some reason 3 weeks after Captain was born, I developed a serious intolerance to caffeine in coffee.  We aren’t quite sure why, but when I’m pregnant I can tolerate half-caf, but by 2 weeks postpartum, I get hugely jittery, nervous, and sick while drinking caffeinated coffee.  I am pretty much sure this strange reaction will last for my breastfeeding years!  So, when I say I am a coffee nut it’s true– because I’m willing to drink caffeine-free just to get the taste every morning.

 

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I’ve loved coffee my entire life.  I have super vivid memories of sipping the cold leftovers of my dad’s black coffee with sweet ‘n’ low in it.  My mother is hispanic, and in many Mexican cultures, children start on coffee very young with a high milk to coffee ratio.  I remember Saturday mornings, headed to church with my mom for meetings and her packing me a travel mug of hot cocoa with coffee in it.  In fact, my kids and nieces enjoy “Nana Coffee” when they stay at my mom’s house overnight.  Mornings always come with a cup of milk, coffee, chocolate, and lots of whipped cream!  Needless to say, just because I had to stop drinking caffeinated coffee, didn’t mean I was going to give up coffee altogether– coffee is in my blood.

 

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In the last 4 years since becoming a nursing mother, I have tried a lot of decaf coffees.  Everything from light roast store brand to extra dark espresso beans from Starbucks.  I love trying new coffees, and just because I can’t have caffeine doesn’t mean I had to give up on finding some good beans!  But, I’ve found a new favorite in the last month with Lifeboost Coffee.

 

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Lifeboost is single-sourced.  It is from a 6-acre farm in the highlands of Nicaragua.  The farm is surrounded by one of Nicaragua’s National Protected Areas, so the land is totally clean and pesticide free. Did I mention it’s organic and Fair Trade?  Because it is!  The Arabica beans are grown, harvested, cleaned, and roasted all on site.  Unlike other coffees, this is free of mycotoxic presence.  Myco-what?  Mycotoxins are produced by molds which are not great for your health and show up in other lower-quality beans.  This coffee is pure, unadulterated, Arabica goodness.

 

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So how does Lifeboost Coffee taste?  We have enjoyed a few different brewing methods with both the decaf medium roast and also regular roasts.  (Milkman is reveling in having some good, fully-leaded beans in the house!)  I didn’t think I could enjoy it much more than I did with a coarse grind in the French Press, but over the weekend, Milkman used a slightly finer grind and made it using the pour-over.  This was ridiculously satisfying.  Maybe pour-overs and presses aren’t for you, maybe you just like to have a down and dirty machine-drip first thing in the morning, and guess what?  Still good like that.

 

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This is the kind of coffee where, if you are used to drinking coffee with cream added, you don’t have to.  It’s not bitter.  Delightfully mild without tasting weak.  Nutty and heady while still being delicate on the palate. You can taste the quality, and as an added bonus to your caffeine (or DECAF as the case may be) fix, you can rest assured that the coffee you are drinking is 100% Certified Organic and Fair Trade.

 

I enjoyed this coffee so much that after drinking it for just a few days I contacted Dr. Charles Livingston at Lifeboost and asked him if he would be willing to share some Lifeboost coffee with my readers!  We agreed that no one needs a coffee pick-me-up more than parents, and because they offer both regular and decaf coffee, this is suitable for the parents of toddlers who need all the caffeine they can get or the pregnant or nursing mama who wants the flavor and comfort of coffee without the caffeine!

 

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Huge thanks to Dr. Charles at Lifeboost for supplying us with the coffee for the giveaway!  Make sure you check out Lifeboost on Facebook, on Instagram @lifeboostcoffee, and go to their website or their Amazon store to try out their coffee (it’s on Amazon Prime!  HELLO! No shipping charge and delivered to your door?  That’s how I like my coffee!)

 

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So, head to She Rocks the Cradle on Facebook, and check out our giveaway for Lifeboost and enter for a chance to win the roast of your choosing absolutely FREE!
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4 Years 

Four years ago, within an hour of giving birth, I latched a tiny baby boy onto my breast and he began to nurse. At that moment I had planned on nursing 6 months, if I could make it that long. 

And he nursed. And then the next day he did. And the day after. And at 2.5 months we had a nursing strike that lasted 17 days, but we made it through. And some times we nursed every 30 minutes all day. And some times we nursed 20 times a night. We nursed at parks and in church. 

And then when he was 8 months old, I got a positive pregnancy test, and I wondered if we would be able to nurse through the pregnancy. And I had aversions and I didn’t want to nurse my little boy. But he needed me. So we nursed. And we nursed through toe curling, awful feelings of being touched out. We nursed through my milk drying up completely. We nursed as my colostrum came in.

And then his baby sister was born. And within an hour of giving birth to her I latched her tiny angry mouth onto my breast, and she calmed down and opened her big eyes and nursed. And it was hard. We nursed through a lip tie, and we nursed with mastitis. We nursed through ductal thrush that lasted months. We nursed through a bleb that became a rock, and after I removed it with a sterile needle and it bled, we nursed. I nursed them two at a time. I nursed them one after the other. I nursed at Disneyland and at the grocery store and in the ergo. Some days I felt like there was always someone latched. So hungry. So thirsty. So drained of everything. But we nursed.
And then when my baby girl was 10 months old I got another positive pregnancy test. And I was pregnant and I nursed two children. And I nursed through morning sickness, and extreme fatigue. I nursed as my milk dried up and my body was working hard to grow a baby. 

And then I lost that baby. And I delivered his sleeping body and I put one drop of breastmilk in his tiny little 17 week old mouth.
When I came home from the hospital I nursed my big girl and held her and breathed in her sweet sweaty head, wet with my tears as I mourned her baby brother’s death. She eagerly nursed as my milk came in, a couple days later, a gift from my still baby. 

And then it was time to wean my oldest. And we weaned slowly and it took a long time. We weaned gently and through many tears every time his little sister got to latch and he didn’t. We weaned with rocking in our rocking chair and singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” together. We weaned by kissing booboos instead of nursing through them. We weaned while I nursed his little sister and we counted and learned our ABCs.
And then I got another positive pregnancy test. And I nursed my second born. I nursed her on days when I hadn’t eaten, and on days where I was throwing up constantly. I nursed her in between appointments with specialists and physical therapists. I nursed her as my milk dried up and my belly grew. I nursed her through prenatal appointments and in the backyard.

And then her baby sister was born. My third living child. And within an hour of her birth she latched on to my breast and looked at me with one eye, like Popeye. Her tired sleepy face suckling to comfort as she adjusted to her new surroundings. And when we got home from the hospital I nursed her and her big sister on the rocking chair. And they nursed through engorgement and cracks. I nursed my screaming new baby seconds after her tongue tie was released by the ENT. And we nursed in hotels and on the couch while we read books to big siblings. We nursed in the shower and on our big family bed. We nursed through 23 clogged ducts in 4 months. And still we nurse. And right now I’m nursing. Always nursing.

It’s been 4 years straight of nursing. My longest break from nursing was 48 hours. I have tandem nursed for 18 months. I have loved it. I have hated it. It has been exciting. It has been mundane.

But most of all– it’s been wonderful. Here’s to many more years of cuddling, nurturing, being close… And nursing.
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This post is dedicated to all 4 of my babies, and also to their papa. Without whom I would never have had the support it takes to nurse. 
I also want to thank the women who have inspired me to nurse to full term, tandem, and through tough times. Ashley who answered my late night nursing questions with Captain when he was a newborn. My mother in law Christina, who always has a glass of water waiting for me when I nurse around her and introduced me to the concept of nursing past infancy. My own mother, who wanted to nurse longer than she did, so she encouraged me to continue. Serena Tremblay, whose story kept me nursing through hospitalization, and inspires me still today. And to the many women in nursing support groups online, but especially to those in VCNM who introduced me to the concept of tandem nursing. 
   
    
    
   

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It’s Not a Season, It’s a Baby.

“It’s just not your time.”

 

“It’s only for a season.”

 

“It doesn’t last forever, this is just how it is for all of us.”

 

“You can get spiritual feeding in AFTER your kids are older.”

 

These are just some of the responses I have received many times when I have lamented that I am struggling with my place in the church since having children. But guess what? I got sick of it.  I’ve talked to my spiritual advisors, to my elders, to my husband, I’ve cried out to the Lord about it, and here’s what I came up with in response to those statements:

 

This is absolute crap.

 

Okay, okay, so maybe that’s not the nicest way to put it, but that’s what I’ve wanted to say.

 

When I had Captain in 2012, I spent an entire year worshipping apart from my husband.  I use the term “worshipping” very loosely.  I spent a year in a room either alone, or with 2 other wonderful nursing women and their babies that had a TV with the sermon being piped in, while my husband sat in the service and got to listen to the sermon like the rest of the church, because he wasn’t lactating and I was.

 

At the year mark, after countless Sundays and Thursdays being stuck in a room apart from my husband where the audio or the visual wasn’t working at times, I had had it.  I went to my wonderful husband, my sweet spiritual head and with tears pouring down my face I said, “I can’t do this anymore. I haven’t heard a whole sermon, let alone a quarter of a sermon in a year.  My daily devotional time suffers, I never get to fellowship with the body anymore, I am sick of being in a room apart from you and not hearing the word preached.  I need help because I feel like I am drowning.”

 

My husband held me while I cried and we decided it was high time I made my way back into at least the lobby, if not the sanctuary of our church.  Thankfully, the lobby of our church at the time has two large glass windows and the sermon audio piped in, so we were able to take Captain into the lobby from the sanctuary if he got too loud, without me being segregated from my husband, and without feeling shut up in a dark room by myself.

 

Once we had Mamitas, we were told by a well meaning woman that there were people uncomfortable with me nursing in the lobby– even with a cover.  Back to the nursing room I went– feeling alone, defeated, and an outcast.

 

Even for women’s functions, I was told were for adult women, and to leave my nursing child home with daddy.  Women’s teas, retreats, and social events weren’t the place for my nursing baby.

 

I began to see a common trend.  The people who were the most unsupportive of me in my young motherhood were not some chauvinistic, patriarchal men– it was women.  Every time. And not just women who didn’t have husbands or kids, no!  It was always middle-aged to older women, who had children at one point in their lives too.  These same women had probably sat in the same dark rooms, nursing under blankets in bathrooms or lobbies or hallways, not hearing the Word preached, longing to be fed, and they were probably placed there by other older women themselves.

 

I’ve talked to many young mothers about this in the church, and we all seem to be frustrated with it, but for some reason, the squeakiest wheels seem to be the older women, and so, we young moms end up in a dark back room because we have noisy babies and milk in our breasts.

 

I can’t help but think this has only become an issue in the last 100-150 years in the westernized world, due to two things:

 

  1. The change from biological feeding with breasts to bottles and thereby making breasts single (and sexually) purposed in our societies.
  2. The popularity of segregating children from adults into their very specific age groups– namely because of the public school system and the rise of Sunday School and mandatory nursery care in churches.

 

Tell me that Ma Ingalls had to nurse her baby in a cry room, or that Mary had to take Jesus to the nursery each Sabbath.  That just wasn’t a thing.  This has not been the norm for thousands of years, and because of tradition and popular culture, the church now has no place for young mothers and babies.  How is a church to grow and sustain itself without young families?  It can’t.  It will die out without children.

 

What other sector of the body of Christ do we tell, “It’s not your season to listen to the preaching of the Word of God”?  What if we told teenage boys that they were excluded for this season, or old women, or elementary aged children?  We would all be in an uproar.  The gospel message and preaching of the Bible is for ALL Christians.  Its commanded that we be in fellowship and following good, solid teaching and doctrine, and yet, I hear it constantly. “It’s just not your time– we all go through this.”

 

As for the claim that I have heard the most: “It’s just a season in your life”: I hear the “season” comment mostly from women who have chosen to have 1 or 2 babies.  Most of these women either didn’t breastfeed at all, or they did for a very short period of time. That was the perfect amount of babies for them.  That was the perfect amount of time for them to nurse.  Milkman and I desire a large family.  Thus far, I’ve been nursing 2 days short of 48 months straight.  We choose to let our kiddos wean sometime after 2.5.  What if my “season” is 10 years?  Is it okay for any Christian to miss out on preaching for 10 years?  My grandmother had 15 pregnancies, and raised 13 children over a course of 21 years.  TWENTY-ONE YEARS.  By the season argument, if my grandmother had been in a modern Evangelical church, her season would have been about 23 years.  

 

23 years of no women’s retreats.  23 years of not sitting with my grandfather in church.  23 years of audio/visual mishaps on the CCTV in the nursing room.  23 years of not getting spiritual feeding with the rest of the congregation.  Many years of also not sitting with her older children in church, leaving my grandfather with 4, 5, 6, 10, 12, kids to manage on his own. Many years of being alone and lonely and told by her older sisters, “Sorry, Panchita, it’s just not your season.”

 

Let’s be real, sitting in a sermon with young children and babies is still going to have you struggling to get the full message uninterrupted each week.  I’m not ignorant of the fact that children distract us in church and need parenting 24 hours a day, 7 days a week– meaning I’m not off duty for 2 hours each Sunday, and my kids are still going to need my attention.  But if my husband and I are tackling the parenting in church together as a team, we can support each other, be encouraged that we aren’t alone, be with the rest of the congregation on a Sunday (what a concept!), and most importantly, we can worship together, teaching our children of the importance their parents place on the preaching of God’s Word, and honoring the Lord’s day.

 

I don’t think we should do away with nursing rooms, I appreciated ours when I was in the early stages of nursing and needed 17 hands and a boppy to get a good latch.  I don’t think we should do away with nurseries.  I think they are excellent options for parents of children who are happy to go into childcare.  I don’t think we should do away with Sunday School, I loved Sunday School as a kid, and it serves a wonderful purpose for families who would like their child in a more kid-friendly environment.

 

In fact, this isn’t even so much about where to nurse as it is about women tearing down other women.  I see it constantly, not just in the church, but I see it there a lot.  I am incredibly thankful for a husband who advocates for me, for elders who have listened to me while I weep, and for the few, very special older women in my church who have been there to encourage me and help me through this sometimes lonely journey of being a nursing mother.  But the naysayers are always the ones whose comments seem to be what sticks with you.

 

To those older sisters, I just want to say, I know kids can be a distraction.  I know they can be annoying, believe me I have personal experience in dealing with their frustrating behaviors!  I know it is easy to forget that you were once in my shoes, but dear older sister, would you show me some compassion?  If not on me, then on my helpless infant. She needs love from her church, to hear as a baby what the Word says.  She needs to hear her pastor praying and she needs to see her parents lifting their hands to the Lord in worship.  She needs to hear the Psalms read, so that one day she can say, “There was never a day I could remember that I didn’t know the love of Jesus.”

 

Gather the people, Sanctify the congregation, Assemble the elders, Gather the children and nursing babes; Let the bridegroom go out from his chamber, And the bride from her dressing room.

 

–Joel 2:16

 

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**as an addendum, I would like to share that after meeting with our elders and lots of prayer, we are happily worshiping with the congregation each Sunday, and it feels so good to be with my brothers and sisters while still nourishing my youngest, tending to my olders, and standing next to my husband.**

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A Mother’s Journey With Autism Begins

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I met Melody via our husbands. Milkman did some time– I mean lived in– Connecticut as a kid as his dad had work there. Milkman’s fondest childhood/pre-teen memories take place with his best friend, Ben. Milkman moved back to California over 13 years ago but apparently their friendship was a lasting one because they have each been in each other’s weddings! When Melody was pregnant with her second child I asked Milkman for her number. Both in similar stations in life, we hit it off. There have probably been only 10 days in the last year and a half where Melody and I haven’t texted or facetimed! Forget MM and Ben, we have something better! Melody has become a very dear friend and Sister! I’m honored to be her friend.

When Melody first shared with me that she was considering getting Michelle evaluated it was a super stressful time for her. Because I wasn’t there (and we’ve never met in person!) I think I felt safe in some ways for Melody to feel like she could open up to me without fear of judgement. MM and I have spent much time praying for our friends on this journey. Seeing the array of emotions and confusion and frustration and victories Melody has gone through, I asked her if she would share some of her story for the blog. She agreed to share and I couldn’t be more grateful. This meant to be an encouragement to moms who may be going through the same thing, to know you aren’t alone! I also hope it will be helpful to those without a child on the Spectrum who have friends and family going through what Melody has, to be supportive– and to know when to shut up. 😉

So, without further ado, here is the first installment on Melody’s journey.

******DISCLAIMER- This post is a record of my personal struggles and acceptance of my daughter’s diagnosis with autism. It is not meant to be a guide of how everyone should feel about any struggle they may have with autism. ********

I don’t remember what day it was or what I was wearing or what she was doing. It’s not important anyway. I just remember looking at my daughter and knowing that she had autism. Its funny to think about it now because just 2 months before I would have called anyone who thought that crazy.

Michelle started using some words around the time she was one and had maybe ten by 15 months. Most of these were Sesame Street characters and of course the word “more”. Michelle went to all of her checkups and hit all of her milestone by the time she was 18 months. Somewhere around there is when I noticed a drop off in her word usuage. I thought it was odd but I was pregnant with my second child and too exhausted to make her talk, so I let her gesture because it was easier for me. When my son was born she was only 21 months. I told the doctor that she wasn’t talking anymore but obviously she could because I had heard her use words before. He said that it was likely she regressed because her newborn brother got lots of attention and since the baby didn’t talk she must have felt like she didn’t have to. He said to wait until she was two and not to worry.

Her second birthday arrived and she still wasn’t talking. She was still putting all of her toys in her mouth. She was still flailing her arms around. Again, the doctor told me not to worry and said that she probably just had a speech delay. I decided to take his word for it. Around this time is when basically everyone I knew started to express concern. “Two years olds should be able to string two words together. You should have her evaluated.” “She’s not talking yet? All of my kids talked long before now. You should have her evaluated.” I must be honest- this was the greatest deterrent to me having her evaluated. If there is one thing I hate, it is people comparing my kids to their kids or telling me how to raise my own children.

I will admit that I was still concerned despite the doctor’s assurances. I always worry…a lot….about everything. It’s something I have been trying to change about myself. I figured the kids were going to give me reason to worry for the rest of my life so I should just calm down and not panic about everything. So I decided to wait on having her evaluated. It wasn’t until my brother, who has never given me his opinion on how to live my life EVER, asked me if I had considered an evaluation, that I decided to make the call. I still didn’t think she had autism. She had hit all of her other milstones. She walked everywhere. She fed herself. She entertained herself. She was happy all of the time. Other than her speech issue, I saw no problems.

I called Birth 2 3, a state agency, because that’s who does these kinds of evaluations where I live. The evaluation was free and they came to my house to do it. When I spoke to the evaluator on the phone she warned me that its hard to qualify for services and that made me feel confident that they were going to evaluate her and call me a crazy worrier. That gave me some comfort but it was short lived. The evaluation wasn’t even fnished when the teacher told me that Michelle was definitely going to qualify for services. I must admit I was surprised. Even more suprising was when they told me that she had failed the MCHAT. The MCHAT is basically a test given to all toddlers to see if they have behaviors consistent with an Autsim Spectrum Disorder (ASD).

I remember being speechless myself. I had a million thoughts floating in my head but was unable to verbalize them. Then the evaluators told me that Michelle qualified for speech services from a state program and due to our familys size and income we only had to pay $16 a month. That was an immediate relief. Help- thank goodness- I don’t have to figure this out alone. They also told me I could do the follow up to the MCHAT, the ADOS, at any time I felt comfortable. A child with autism can only be diagnosed by a doctor or psycologist, and not early intervention teachers who perform the initial evaluation.

We got set up with a program in our area and started services a few weeks after the evaluation. Our coordinator, Laura, was amazing. She explained so much to me in so many different ways. She was great with Michelle and she made herself availble to me at any time to call or text with any questions. I told her from the start that I didn’t want to do the ADOS just yet because I wasn’t covinced Michelle had autism because, again, the only red flag I saw was the speech. I did tell Laura to be honest with me and that once she got to know Michelle better, she should tell me if Michelle needed to be tested. After all, she’s a specialist trained to look for warning signs.

In addition to the state services we were reciveing, we decided to put Michelle in a daycare/preschool three times a week so she could have some peer interaction. At the time no one in our circle fo friends had toddlers for her to play with, only babies. I thought if I sent her to the school then she would see kids her age talking and she would want to copy them.

It was hard to send her to school. I am a stay at home mom. The whole point of that was to avoid child care costs and for me to be with my babies during this special time in their lives. But I knew she needed the help so I begrudgingly send her. Turns out this was one of the best choices I could have made. She LOVED going there. The teachers loved having her and she really enjoyed being around the other kids. I saw so many improvements- most in areas I didn’t even think she was lacking in. She started to do a little pretend play. She would let me read her stories without her furiously turning the pages so I couldn’t get a word in. She wanted to color.

Yet for all the good there were disappointments as well. After 2 months at school and with visits from Laura, she still wasn’t really talking. She would not sit down for circle time. She couldn’t eat at the lunch table for more than a few minutes. She still flapped her arms in an excited fury. She still wouldn’t point to objects or show any intrest in playing with any friends. I could see the difference in her behaviors versuses that of her peers. It seemed as though there was an ocean between her and them. These kids said “hello” and “goodbye” and “I love you, Mommy.” Michelle has never said that to me. It broke my heart to realize just how behind she was. It’s not that I needed her to be just like the other kids, but the fact that I was unaware that kids her age were doing so much. It was then that Laura, my husband and I all agreed she should be tested.

Now we reach the point I started this saga with. I knew my daughter had autism. I had finally realized and accepted that reality. Now I just had to wait 6 weeks for a professional to tell me what I already knew. I anxiously awaited the day of the ADOS. I had a mental countdown going on inside me. Some people might have dreaded it, but I couldn’t wait. It was like waiting for something I desperately wanted. I actually wanted them to tell me that she had autsim. The longer I waited the more I could see the autistic behaviors in her come out. She was spinning in circles. She would shake her head back and forth looking for sensory input. The day she started lining her toys up I considered calling the agency up and demanding they come perfrom the evavluation immediately. It was just so painfully obvious and I wanted her to start her thereapies instantly. I’m rather impatient if you haven’t guessed.

Then the day for the ADOS finally arrived. I think the exact words they used were, “She does meet the criteria for an Autism Spectrum Disorder.” Those may have been the most comforting words I have ever heard. Finally, I knew why Michelle wasn’t talking. Finally I knew it wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t failed her or caused her to stop talking. It wasn’t my fault that she had never really wanted to breastfeed as an infant. It wasn’t my fault she didn’t want to interact with others. I didn’t have to feel guilty because these things and so many little others were beyond my culpability. I wasn’t a bad parent with an uncontrollable spoiled child who couldn’t sit still or behave. It sounds strange but hearing that she had autsim was the greatest relief of my life. The relief was also because I knew what would come next. I wasn’t alone. Michelle would be transferred to a new, autsim-specific program. We wouldn’t be crawling around in the dark, throwing ideas around as to how to target her issues. We were going to be working with a team of specialists who were going to know what to do.

Don’t misunderstand me. I wasn’t glad that my daughter had autism. I don’t want her to have autsim. I don’t want anyone to have it. I would give anything to not have to see her struggle with this disability and it’s something that I may spend the rest of my life worrying about and coming to grips with. My relief was in finally knowing what the problem was and knowing that I would have support from a team of specialists who know how to work with children with this problem. I now had the confidence that despite this disadvantage she would still grow up to live a rich and full life. She will learn to communicate more effectively (she already is), she will learn to focus, and she will grow up to be an amazing woman who is happy and fulfilled.

This doesn’t mean that I think this will be easy or over quickly. I know there will be bad days or bad weeks and moments I feel as though I should give up. But I also know that with the proper help she can have more good days, or maybe weeks. I still have no idea how we are going to get there, but for now, just feeling it is a constant comfort and that’s enough for me right now.