"Miracle" Recovery?

Miracle would suggest that a wand had been waved and that with a smattering of fairy dust, all was better. All the pain and angst erased from memory, nary a stumble or hesitation from this point forth, that the path ahead was clear and easy. Hmmm…a magical feat indeed! Perhaps in the dark recesses of my being there is a little voice wishing with all her might that this could be so. Yet, I can tell you that the only supernatural event occurring in our house is our dogged determination to get to the bottom of our daughter’s underlying mystery.

That a solution to this puzzle even exists, I am immeasurably grateful, but the way is murky. Twists, turns and backward steps are constant companions. Self-doubt, worry, frustration and the ever-present weariness hang on me like burrs on my socks, pricking and making their presence known at every move. I have given up my former life to find our daughter and bring her back. And although sometimes I miss whatever it was I used to do, I am propelled forward by the changes and improvements she has made.

Yes, I am perhaps more jaded in the way I look at life, but perhaps that is to be expected. When the blinders of naivete are peeled away by the sting of reality, it’s hard to prevent the skeptic’s shell from forming. I no longer have implicit faith. In contrast, I also know that even though I encounter periods of insecurity, I am more confident in myself, and my abilities. I know that somewhere in here, I have found my voice and with each event it becomes a little stronger.

And although there is no magical pill for autism, there is hope. That with hard work and dedication, I, like hundreds of other parents, am putting the pieces of our daughter’s puzzle together. Through the shadows we are touching the hidden lives of our children and slowly drawing them forward into the light, and for the first time, getting to know who our children really are.

That, my friends, is the ‘miracle’ of intervention.