Assessments - this time

It was easier this time. At least a bit.

The Batsman is well versed now, through his therapy, in table activities and instructions, requests and questions. We are much more seasoned too. Does that mean we are wiser? Or maybe we are a little more hardened to the ways of the world of developmental assessments and autism. Maybe it is a little of both.

The Batsman completed his second round of developmental assessments in August, some fourteen months after he commenced his intensive early intervention program. He did the assessments with a psychologist, the same one as the last time. The Batsman wasn’t anxious this time, there was a little more excitement in his step, in the way he greeted her, the way he bounced in the door and looked her straight in the eye. I always feel like I can exhale when he is like that. Phew.

From my vantage point outside the door I could hear them talking, a free flowing little chat about what they could see outside the window, about the truck they could hear going down the road. I could hear some of the testing that makes up the assessments and I could hear my beautiful boy trying. He didn’t shut down. He was engaged and listening and trying. How amazing it is to be on the outside “looking in” and hear one of the little humans who lights up your every day, trying and at least some of the time succeeding.

When the Captain and I went back this month to receive the full report from the psychologist I could feel my breathing was more even, there was less of that panicked “I don’t know what the hell is going to happen here” feeling.

Wiser. Harder.

There were no surprises in the report she presented to us. It showed strengths where we know he is excelling. It showed weaknesses where we know he has a ways to go. The report shone a little bit of light on areas we can keep working on. There also were many things that were tested that we know the Batsman can do in his day to day home life and in his therapy program but he couldn’t do them in the testing situation. Like I said, no surprises.

I have read through the report a couple of times since we received it. The pieces of paper don’t pack the same emotional punch of the last assessment report which I could barely stand to read. This time I know the report paints some of the picture of our little man but is by no means the full portrait.

Last time, the future felt completely unknown. We didn’t know if the Batsman would respond to the therapy and make progress in his communication.

This time, we can see the horizon a little. We know he is responding, we know he is developing and the little boy who sits and chats with us at the breakfast table is barely recognisable from fourteen months ago.

Wiser? Yes we are. We have learned alongside our boy.

Harder? Yes we are and we are becoming much more seasoned, knowledgeable advocates than the “newly crowned autism mum and dad” we were fourteen months ago.

But you know what? Even with all of the challenges, the struggles, the anxiety of our boy, the repetitive therapy, all of it – we are lighter, our hearts are lighter. A mum and dad’s hearts inevitably become lighter when there is progress and success and we have the privilege of bearing witness as a little boy grows into who he is.

Wiser, harder, lighter.

This time.



Image via We Heart It