Parenting Neurodivergent Children
3 Lessons I’ve Learned
“I just want something good to happen in my life.”
I distinctly recall saying this to my wife on a midsummer evening in early 2015. We were still reeling from a tragic year. New city. New jobs. Lots of change. That’s stressful by itself, but God allowed us to experience so much more…sickness and death.
We lost our unborn child, Jeremiah, in November 2014.
I didn’t have the time to deal with the grief; as a new teacher I was constantly trying to stay afloat with the curriculum, grading, lesson plans, etc. Finally in the spring of 2015, the despair caught up to me emotionally. Like a slow-acting poison, the grief paralyzed me.
In the middle of the pain, I was blinded to the blessings God gave me. I thought nothing good was happening, but clearly that was wrong! A couple weeks later, we found out my wife was pregnant. After some discussion, we settled upon the name Josiah for our rainbow baby. Little did I realize how providential this name was (and still is). His name literally translates to mean “Healer”.
This same summer we had our oldest son diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) at the age of 4.
Some people expressed concerns to us about having him “labeled” because it would stick with him for life.
We thought differently.
We believe a diagnosis is a doorway to helpful services; it’s about accuracy.
We wanted to provide the best options for him.
Without an accurate diagnosis, we wouldn’t be able to get the most appropriate help.
Parenthood has taught me so much. It has compelled me to grow (sometimes begrudgingly), and it shows me the power of God.
Parenting neurodivergent children has deepened my ability to find God in the ordinary.
What is Neurodivergence?
Neurodivergence refers to when someone’s brain processes, learns, and/or behaves differently from what is considered “typical”. Often used in the context of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), this framework encompasses a wide range of ways that people think differently.
I want to make a caveat before I continue; I’m not a psychologist or neurologist so please don’t take my experience with neurodivergence as clinical advice. I’m only sharing as a neurodivergent parent (I was diagnosed with ADHD as a child) with neurodivergent children.
Lesson 1- It’s Okay to Be Different
While this is an obvious lesson and something I knew at the core of my being, it wasn’t actualized until I became a parent. I saw neurodiversity in a different way through the lens of a father vs. being neurodivergent myself.
My oldest son didn’t sleep through the night for consecutive nights until he was 3 years old. Even then, it was rare. We utilized all the “expert” tips and tricks: swaddle blankets, white noise, a regimented sleep routine.
It was easy to feel like a failure as a parent. I had people give me “advice” constantly and felt bombarded with reasons I should be able to get my kid to stay asleep. Though the advice came from a place of love, I initially interpreted it as criticism. This failure meant that I wasn’t a good parent.
Once we got an official diagnosis for our son, I felt relieved. We had answers… not all of them, but we were making progress. We began to understand that our son’s mind was running so quickly that his senses were continually overloaded. We were able to get him on a plan at school to get him the help he needed, and that continues to aid him today.
Lesson 2- Patience Makes Progress
When another son was diagnosed with autism, I learned a second lesson. I’m a recovering perfectionist. 100% or nothing; that was what I used to think. I viewed all mistakes as bad things. In reality, mistakes are First Attempts In Learning (F.A.I.L.), and learning takes a great deal of patience.
We had the benefit of knowing the signs to look for when we suspected this child also had autism.
The repetitive behaviors (stimming), sensory issues like water being too hot or cold during bathtime, and OCD-like rituals were familiar. We had our younger son diagnosed at 18 months. Early diagnosis is key, and I would argue it was life-giving.
My son couldn’t communicate his basic needs. This led to many meltdowns a day and even to him banging his head on the ground in frustration.
My wife and I felt trapped and fearful for his safety.
We longed to be able to do “normal” family activities like going to the pool and the store as a whole family.
Instead, “divide and conquer” became our strategy for accomplishing most things. One of us would stay at home with him while the other parent would take our older children out. It was far from a perfect system, but at the time it worked for our family.
Saint Teresa of Avila wrote, “Patience obtains everything.”
During that time, I learned how to slow down and celebrate the micro-milestones of my learning journey. God gave us the graces to accept help in the form of speech, physical, and occupational therapies. We went to appointments several times a week for several years.
We learned to thank God for small victories like our son attending to a task for more than five minutes, or walking him to and from our vehicle without him trying to run off to look at wheels because of his obsession with circles.
It was slow progress, but it was progress.
Lesson 3- Whoever Has God Lacks Nothing
Along with relearning it’s okay to be different and finding the joy in the journey through patience, parenting kids with special needs has taught me the power of God.
Total abandonment to Divine Providence: this was a concept I didn’t embrace until becoming a parent. It means giving yourself entirely over to God’s Will. In all things, not just the big asks like finances or health but even in the minutiae of life.
Raising kids with a social-communication disorder like ASD has forced me to break things down into steps. I’ve had to slow down both when teaching the kids the importance of looking before crossing the street and in relation to my faith life.
Slowing down meant starting to ask God for help throughout the day.
“God help me deal with this meltdown,” or “Jesus, I need patience now!” or “Send me perspective Holy Spirit,” were common mental prayers I shot up God, and God provided.
“Whoever has God lacks nothing.” – St. Teresa of Avila
These words from Saint Teresa of Avila remind me that God is always with us, but His grace is most effective when we are open to Him.
Parenthood allowed me to humble myself to ask God for help and, more importantly, to ACCEPT his graces. I am thankful for these and the many other lessons I’ve learned (and am still learning!) from being a dad to special needs children.
