Other Diagnosis Day
And then there was the day that our lives changed forever as we knew it.
The dreaded day that we needed to have the banshee assessed for a clinical diagnosis.
A diagnosis needed to label her as more unique than she already was.
A diagnosis that was required to ensure she was labelled appropriately for schooling purposes.
A diagnosis to ensure a label for life.
A diagnosis to change the game completly.
I remember sitting with the psychologist and my daughter, ready and raring to get these "tests" underway. It had been a while since we had the diagnosis of global developmental delay and sensory processing so we were quiet used to running the gauntlet of appointments and speaking openly about all the negative things surrounding my our child's inabilities.
This was like those appointments but with an overwhelming doom hanging overhead.
As I sat back and watched my babe struggle to understand the questions in the standardised testing and therefore not responding appropriately in return, I remembered feeling gutted and soul crushed.
We needed this diagnosis to ensure she was able to receive the help she very clearly needed but also needed validation that there was more than met the eye.
I felt sad for the "neurotypical" child that I never had. Sad that we would never have. Sad that she would now from this moment on be labelled as "neurodivergent". Sad for her that people may see her in a different light. That she wouldn't be seen as just being her, without a label. - I still feel like this most days.
It's an overwhelming roller-coaster of emotions, diagnosis day.
You know you need it, it will (hopefully) eventually help.
Doesn't make the hurt and heart ache any easier.
Selfishly you have the heart ache and question why.
But there is always the heart ache for the child. The innocent child.
We live with a Moderatly Intellectually Disabled Little Girl who has Autisim, Selective Mutism and Hyper Anxiety.
And what a spectacular girl she is!











