Pity

Since Jenni and I have started sharing our journey navigating this new world of having Desmond diagnosed with ASD, we’ve received varying amounts of response and feedback. For the most part people are overwhelmingly supportive. Prayers and thanks and understanding and encouragement are all forthcoming and plentiful. As of yet nobody has chastised us for sharing so openly such a private, difficult experience. But sometimes people say things that have an underlying sense of… pity.

I don’t think it’s ever intentional, and maybe it is unavoidable, but for anyone out there reading these words, I don’t want you to feel pity for us. You see, to me Desmond is perfect. Yes, things can be more difficult at times, but If I could magically take away his ASD, I wouldn’t. That’s part of who he is. He sees the world through different eyes in a completely unique way. Taking away his ASD would be to take away his personality and a part of who he is, and there are so many wonderful things I love about our little Fox Man.

Here are a few of my (current) favorite Foxy things:

• Desmond loves cars. Whenever he sees one out on a walk he laughs and smiles and it melts my heart.
• Desmond loves to examine how things are built. He examines objects from every angle, figuring out how they work and how they’re put together. It’s so much fun watching him figure things out.
• Desmond loves music and singing. Whenever he’s upset all we have to do is start singing Little Bunny Foo Foo or some other song and he’ll calm down and pay attention to us. He hums all the time and I love it.
• When Desmond wants to go outside, he brings us his shoes. He’ll turn around and sit on our laps while we put them on. Then he’ll push us toward the door where he wants to go. He’s getting better and better at communicating what he wants.
• I always have Desmond open the garage door. He loves to push the button. My favorite thing is when he looks at me first with a big grin on his face before pushing the button.
• Whenever Desmond wants a cracker or pretzel or other snack, he’ll open the pantry door himself and bring us the box of what he wants. Then I’ll have him point to the box every time he wants another cracker. He used to never point, but now he does so all the time and each time he does my heart soars with victory and happiness.
• Desmond likes to go outside on the balcony. He thinks it’s hilarious to slam the door on us and keep us inside. I’ll put my forehead up to the glass and he’ll mimic me and we’ll have a staring contest through the glass door. It’s so much fun!
• All I have to do to make Desmond laugh is fake a sneeze. Hilarious!
• Every day when I pick Desmond up from daycare, we do what I call the “slalom” outside. I’ll run back and forth through a series of posts with him on my shoulders and he laughs the whole time. Always a great end to the school day.

I could go on and on about all the wonderful things I love about Desmond that make him special. In fact, I probably will in future posts because I don’t want to forget any of them as he grows up. My point is, I love Desmond just as he is and I wouldn’t change a thing about him. Yes, we’re doing therapies to help him grow and, in essence, change him to be more neurotypical, but that’s totally different. We all want our kids to grow and learn.

I am the proudest dad in the world and I will not take for granted a single moment of the amazing journey we’re on. It’s my honor and privilege to help Desi become everything that he can be and grow into an amazing little Fox. Every day he gets a little bit bigger, stronger, wiser and more courageous. So everyone out there reading about our journey, don’t be sorrowful. Don’t be sad or feel regret or disappointment for us. Desmond is exactly the person he was born to be and I can’t wait for you all to see him grow. He’s pretty amazing.