Just about a year ago, the Elliott family received a devistating blow in the form of an autism diagnosis for Sam, our youngest family member.  I say that this was a blow for the Elliott family because the entire family has been profoundly changed by all that we've already seen and all that we'll face in the future.  Sammy got the label - Mom, Dad, and big brothers (and all our loving family and friends) are facing the day-to-day of what that means in our lives.  And at the time of the diagnosis, I can honestly say I had never felt so alone.

And then I met some wonderful women with an organization called TACA - Talk About Curing Autism.  TACA is a national non-profit 501(c)(3) organization dedicated to educating, empowering, and supporting families affected by autism.  And they mean it.  Everything the organization and its many volunteers do is with that mission in mind -- families with autism helping families with autism.  TACA encourages hope.  Hope that the quality of life of these children can improve.

That mission has meant so much to me.  And I know that helping to strengthen TACA in Indiana - and around the country - is a calling I simply can't ignore.  Although it is amazing to me what TACA has been able to accomplish on a very small budget, reality is that family support does need financial support to sustain.  And I've created this page, and am sending this note, asking for your support for TACA and the families serves.  $1, $100, $1000 ... every cent counts.  At 1 in 91 children affected by autism in the US today (1 in 58 beautiful little boys like Sammy), it is the most underfunded of all chronic illnesses in the United States. 

I've pasted below portions of the first blog entry I made when we decided I would start capturing our journey in print.  It tells our initial story.  I can't believe how far Sam has already come ... and how far he has yet to go.  And how much the story keeps changing.  But one thing I know for sure - TACA has been a life preserver for me through all the rocky seas we've faced.  And I know these families will be here for me each and every time we need them.   

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The Traditional Mom

Back in 2009, my husband was writing and editing for a Christian website that was just getting off the ground. Several years earlier, with my two oldest boys, I discovered I had a deep, burning, desire to try to create memories and traditions with them that they’d be able to hold near and dear and pass on to their own kids. Ok – I admit it was sappy, but I dreamed of some of those “simpler” times when it seemed like those kinds of memories just happened.

In 2003, when my older boys were then 8 and 2, I was fortunate enough to meet some wonderful women and find a pretty cool company that was able to show me that, although we might have to work a bit harder at it these days, it was certainly still possible to create those magical memories for our kids. And I’m not talking about just taking trips to Disney World. I dove in head-first, and really did love every minute (not that I had any to spare). Life kept changing, as it is bound to do. I got busier, the boys got bigger, and we welcomed baby #3 to our family in 2006.

Then, when Pete started working for the website, I thought it would be totally cool to be able to write a blog for it, focused on what I found important, and letting other families know that if we – the two-working-parent-mom’s-a-lawyer-dad’s-a-writer-kids-are-over-the-top-busy-family – could make those memories, then any family could.

Thus, The Traditional Mom was born. The whole idea was to question what was “traditional.” My proposition was that a “traditional mom” is “a woman who loves her family and desires to raise her kids with values, ambitions, and dreams. And we’re always thinking about what we can do to instill in our children those values, ambitions, and dreams, all the while managing the various other obligations we have.”

That was early 2009. Not too long after ADHD. But before eosinophilic esophagitis. Before allergies. Before developmental delays.

And before autism.

You see, it was later in 2009 that we first had Sam, then 2, going on 3, evaluated by First Steps and were told he had a developmental delay. We had known for quite some time that he wasn’t progressing like we thought he should be, and not like his brothers had. But we listened for a long time to the people (doctors included) telling us he was “just a little behind,” and “don’t worry about it, he’ll catch up.” In fall of 2009, he entered our local school corporation’s Early Childhood program and began getting more speech and OT.

Then in early 2010, I first read about the manifestations of autism. How widespread it had become. How it was connected to autoimmune issues (which our family is loaded with). How it’s tied to ADHD (which one older brother has). How it can be tied to EE and other digestive and allergy issues (which the other older brother has). I learned a lot from more books than I can remember reading right now.

And I learned that these epidemics can be treated. And children can recover. Including from autism.

I started making calls like mad to get on lists to get Sam seen by local doctors to figure out what we could be doing to try to get our son to recovery. And it was maddening. For as medically advanced of a community in which we live, I was astounded that I couldn’t get an appointment with a pediatric neuropsychologist, or the highly regarded children’s hospital docs, who could actually give us a diagnosis for more than six months to over a year. In fact, we’re still on several of those waiting lists with appointments stretching further into this year, and as far out as next fall.

But we just kept searching and calling and bugging and hounding and finally got him in to a doctor (not covered by insurance, of course) and got the diagnosis. Along the way, we kept searching and reading and learning. And now we’re working toward recovering. So, this is my new journey as a Traditional Mom. I'm still a woman who loves her family and wants to raise her kids with values, ambitions, and dreams. The "raising" part has taken on a bit of a new meaning, but we will get get there.

I don’t know how many people might read what I’m setting out to write here. Maybe just my wonderful husband (hi honey!). Maybe a few of the friends that have stuck with us so far. Maybe a few of the ones we’ve lost touch with while trekking down this path to recovery. Maybe just one person who becomes more educated on how to avoid the path we're on. Or maybe just one who comes to know - like I have - that you're not alone. Or maybe just me, years from now, looking back on the journey. And that's cool by me.

But if you are reading ... please come back ... and please share any comments or thoughts on anything I might post. I will always keep reading, and learning.

And I will never give up.