Healing

It has been a week since the diagnosis, and I think I am on the road to recovery thanks to a quick trip into Dallas last night. Yes, that is a tattoo. Yes, it is on my body. Yes, it hurt almost as much as giving birth to Ainsley did (no drugs, big baby, facing the wrong way...you bet that hurt!). You can even see the stretch marks!

Tattoos provide catharsis for me. The first one I decided to get was for Ian, and it has been on my hip for almost 2 years now. After is was completed, I felt at ease with what we were doing for him and knew the path we had chosen was the right one for our family. That is a good place to be.

A few months later, Steve and I got tattoos on our 13th anniversary. His was the Chinese characters for Kung Fu San Soo - or "Student of Professional Fighting". Mine was a simple purple daisy. It represented my precious little girl and how sweet she was. I knew eventually I would add something to it, but at the time I had no idea what that would be. I had hoped it would be something to signify her free spirit, her strength, her love of life. But as the last year has unfolded, it became clearer that my Ainsley tattoo was going to have something to do with autism.

I like the puzzle piece that symbolizes the mysteries of autism. Not only does Ainsley love to do puzzles, but she has always been very perplexing to me. Her behavior has been difficult to predict. In a way, that is part of her charm. She surprises me in wonderful ways. The first time she said she loved me was when she was nearly three years old. By then I had begun to suspect that her understanding of emotions was not as complex as it should be. When she said the words, I cried, because for the first time it seemed my daughter felt a true connection to me as a person, not just a drone that puts food on the table and plays with her.

When I decided what to do for Ainsley's revised tattoo, I couldn't wait to see it completed. Even though the pain of the needle was at times excruciating, it gave me the chance to visualize an end to all the pain I had been feeling for so long about my daughter. In my mind I could see and feel the tears dripping from the holes made by the needle and ink. The sobs that never came out rushed through my fingers as I squeezed "Fred" - the pink pig kushy ball given to Ainsley by the neurologist. At times, the pain was like a knife carving on my back; but with each stabbing sensation I knew I was one step closer to healing.

When it was over, I took a deep breath. Calm. Sweet peace filled my body. Driving home I felt happier than I have in years. All the pent up worry was gone. The fear was gone. The disappointment...gone. It's just our family now. And we're going to be just fine.