It is my greatest hope that Evie will find a way, with our help, to communicate. I often hear things like, “It is so sad that Autistic children can’t tell their parents that they love them.”
Actually, more often I hear parents say, “I want my child to be able to tell me that he loves me.”
When I think about Evie’s communication, that’s just about the furthest thing from my mind.
I want to hear that her tummy hurts.
I want to hear that she wants a glass of water.
I want to hear that she is hungry.
I want to hear the things that make her happy, scared, sad, angry, frustrated, tired.
I mean “hear” figuratively, not literally. I do not care if she speaks or points to a picture or clicks an icon on her ipad or types.
I want communication for Evie.
I want to stop guessing at what she needs and thinks so that I can answer her needs.
Communication will make Evie safer.
I want Evie to be safe.
I don’t want Evie to communicate to stroke my ego or to make me feel better.
I need Evie to feel better. To feel safe.