My youngest will be six years old on February 2. Having a child after a confirmed diagnosis of autism in an older sibling is scary. So many questions go through your mind. Was there something I did in pregnancy the time before that caused it? Did I not pay enough attention when they were an infant? Is there something I can do this time to change it? It makes you assess every little thing you do. I know there is nothing I could have done differently in any of my pregnancies to have prevented two premature births and another child born with an autism spectrum disorder. I believe that all of my children were perfectly made. Just the way they are.
The story of "Lovey" is a tale of hope, security, love and laziness. Not necessarily in that order. My oldest daughter had a pink Precious Moments doll as a baby. We actually had about 10 at one time because "Pinky" became her security blanket and heaven forbid one went missing. Thirteen years later the original Pinky is still an integral part of her life. When Emily was born she did not form an attachment to any one thing. There was no comfort item or security blanket. The pacifier wasn't even that much of a help. When my son was born I had the fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, that was part of Emily's anxiety. She didn't have a comfort item except for me. I bought a supply of different lovies for my son to use in hopes that he might find security in one.
He really did not show an intense interest in any of them. However, I always made sure they were available. Then one day when he was an infant it was time to eat. Actually it was past time to eat. Preparing the bottle I realized that I didn't have a burp rag. I certainly didn't have the minute it would take for me to run upstairs to get one so I did what any desperate mom would do. I grabbed a shirt off of the ever constant pile of laundry that was always on the couch thinking it was one of my husbands. It was mine and by the time I realized it, there was no turning back. It was a simple white cotton shirt that I had bought at Target, but one of the few "nicer" post pregnancy shirts I had. Well since I had already used it, I just decided to use it as the burp rag of the day. I washed it that night and low and behold bottle time the next day landed me in the same predicament. And that white t shirt had ended up in the pile on the couch once again so I grabbed it. It ended up in the bed with him a few times that day and I noticed that he really liked holding it while he slept. He also held on to it while I fed him. I again washed the shirt at the end of the day and at this point decided the formula stains weren't worth getting out so it became one of the burp rags. I am not sure at what point it became more of a lovey than a burp rag, but he loved it. He needed it. He wanted it. Six years later, "Lovey" is full of holes. He(so decided by my son on the gender) is always there at bedtime. He is sometimes worn as a shirt because he is so comfortable. But most importantly he has given my son a feeling of security.
Thanks for reading~
Jessica
