We sat there, I was cold and scared, terrified I would say. Her dad had no expression on his face.
I had her sitting on my lap, she was so little, only a few days and she would be turning 3 years old.
She was fidgeting, barely acknowledging the psychologist trying to engage her.
She couldn't answer his questions, she didn't play with the toys appropriately. I nervously tried to excuse her lack of attention.
He just took notes, he smiled with kindness like trying to calm us down.
After an hour of evaluation, he said the words. He explained that she had autism, I suspected it but wasn't ready for that confirmation from a professional, there was no more suspicion, it was fact.
He said it with a warm tone of voice. I felt like he knew he had just delivered a life changing diagnosis and smiling was the least he could do for those devastated parents sitting in front of him. We thank him, we didn't ask questions, he didn't say much more, we headed out of the building in total silence. Our only child, a diagnosis we didn't understand.
I remember closing my eyes. I swear I saw a huge angry bull running towards us. I can still feel that little hand, her hand holding on to mine, I held it tightly as we were walking to the car. I wanted to scream and cry, I didn't want to face that scary bull, I wanted to run but there was no escaping.
I love her more than life, and I promised her that I would never let her down, that I would never close my eyes again. I let the sun and the wind dry my tears, then I looked down at her beautiful innocent face and the miracle happened; she smiled at me, oh my God, that healing smile of hers made me realize that my love would always be bigger than my fear and that I promised her I would become the strong woman she deserved as a mom and no matter how difficult or challenging our lives could get, her smile would always shine bright and that would be my guide, my path.
She was and still is perfect just the way she is. She's loved, adored and celebrated by the ones that are lucky to have her in our lives.