So I feel like I’m about to have a one of those Moesha diary moments. Well a Moesha moment without the toxic attitude, self-centeredness and the irritating black ass audacity. You know maybe this isn’t a Moesha moment. Anywho, the past six months have been an absolute whirlwind and I’m just now starting to feel as though my legs are back underneath me. Where do I start… let’s talk about how my marriage counselor changed my life. First off shout out to Melissa she’s the goat, she’s fantastic, wonderful, outstanding, just a beacon of realness in the world.
In one of our sessions she told me I’d make a bomb ass therapist, because of the personal work I’ve been doing over the years. I hadn’t even disclosed to her that becoming a mental health professional is one of my ultimate callings. Mama clocked me immediately, and gave me some school recommendations. So in the fall, I enrolled in university and decided no matter how unsure I felt about my ability to do this, I’m going to do it! All the voices I had in my head telling me I wasn’t good enough weren’t even mine, they were the echoes of toxic family members, raggedy ass exes, and former “friends” who doubted the things I was interested in. But capital ‘F’ Fuck all of that! I’ve finally remembered and embraced the fact that little Chandra was a genius and loved learning and that same passion for knowledge is still burning hot within me. And I’m determined to let that little fucker rage to make up for lost time.
So around the same time I decided that I was for sure going to go back to school, fate would also have it that I finally started to get some traction with my daughter. When Dakota was around 8 months old, I began to notice that she was different, not bad different, but different. Like most first time parents you use those apps to track milestones, and while my baby was wildly inconsistent in meeting milestones. Like many first time moms, I absolutely thought it was my fault and that mom-guilt ate me the fuck up.
Luckily for me, I was freshly diagnosed with AuDHD— a combination of ADHD and Autism, ‘cause I was too bad of a bitch to just have one— and was learning so much about how autism presents to understand me better, but then I started to notice some similarities in what I was seeing in my baby. At her wellness check-ins I kept mentioning that she wasn’t meeting certain milestones and was repeatedly told that every kid was different and that she just needed time and she’d progress. In some ways she did, however her speech completely regressed, I mean, she barely even babbled. After the third appointment of being told to wait it out, I started standing’ on black ass mama business, because they had one more time to play in my face before I set some shit on fire. I’d be damned if my baby was going to spend the rest of her life playing catch up, because medical staff felt they knew my child better than me. Tuh!
So after damn near getting into an argument with my child’s pediatrician she finally referred us out for services to begin getting her evaluated, and set up with an early intervention coordinators. It was slow at first and seemed like nothing was happening, but as soon as the semester got going good, shit started happening. I was constantly having to meet with psychologists and early intervention specialists and the like. There were so many introductions, a fuck-ton of paperwork and questionnaires, home visits, and meetings. Side note, advocating for your child is so important and this is even more so the case for little girls. There’s a 4:1 ratio of boys being diagnosed with autism compared to girls, and I was shocked to learn that there’s legit a term for little girls called “lost girls” where they slip through the cracks without diagnosis and miss critical early interventions.
When I tell y’all felt like I was racing against the clock to get my baby diagnosed. I was given so much literature to sort through to be able to make informed decisions that it felt like I was a student to this whole process, too. As if that wasn’t enough, I was doing most of this alone because my wife was preparing for a 9-month long deployment and was damn near on lockdown at work. Super fun times, bro.
Instead of focusing on the shit timing of it all, I just put one foot in front of the other and got through it, one day, one meeting, one assignment at a time. And it worked because the process of diagnosis from first referral to final assessment and report-in-hand finalization of diagnosis takes anywhere between 18-months to 2 years and we managed to get it done in 6 months, including getting her treatment plan finalized (which is a whole other ordeal). AND by my ancestors keeping and the Spirit homies coming through, I ended the semester with 3.8 gpa. I still don’t know how I did it.
So, yeah, the last half of this year was busy beyond belief and I’m nestled semi-permanently at an ungodly level of tired, but it’s all good. I’m still settling into the special needs parenting lifestyle. So far it’s been the most loving and affirming community and we’re navigating things as best we can, and it’s A LOT to navigate, too, chile, but that’s a convo for another day. Whew! However, it’s a new adventure that we’re taking in stride. This whole process has taught me the importance of having a solid tribe because support is EVERYTHING, letting go of perfection, and adjusting what’s in your power to adjust and saying ‘fuck the rest’.
So yeah, that's where I've been the past six months. AIf you feel like it, share some of the wins and I-don’t-know-how-I-got-through-that stories in the comment section, I like reading those. And know that 2024 is going to be a beautiful adventure for all of us. Remember to drink moisturize, get plenty of rest, and know that it’s still Free Palestine and we need a permanent ceasefire now! See y’all in 2024!!! 🙃
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Also, make sure you’re up to date on my novella ‘Situationships & Sippy Cups’. It is available on Kindle Vella in the Amazon store, check it out!!!