June 10, 2010 by Marj Hatzell
A woman, suffering from severe postpartum depression, did the unthinkable. She killed her own son. Her motive, at least the one she claims, was autism. She was consumed with the fact that her SIX MONTH OLD BABY was autistic. Because he screamed, arched his back and wouldn’t make eye contact. Before you go jumping all over it, I need you to know something. These were some of the signs I saw very early on. I saw other red flags, including the blank stare, easily overstimulated, lack of crying to have their parents soothe them and a few more, too many to mention. I don’t know if this woman’s child is (was) autistic or not. That’s not important at this point. What is important is that she had CLEAR postpartum depression and it went virtually ignored. According to the articles I’ve read, she didn’t get enough help. The warning signs were there and she wasn’t helped. She even stated (shortly before she smothered him) that she thought it would be easier on her husband if she and the baby weren’t there.
Postpartum depression is a very REAL and very SERIOUS disorder. I suffered from it after both births. It was excruciating. Add to it that I knew very early on that something was not quite right with Bug Boy. I knew from the moment I held him that something was really not quite right with Bugaboo. It was a difficult thing to deal with. First postpartum depression and then I was convinced my children were autistic (which, by the way, everyone pooh-poohed BUT I WAS RIGHT. But that’s neither here nor there at this point).However, that isn’t important right now. But I want the world to know something.
My children do not suffer from autism.
My husband and I do not suffer from autism.
In our world, there is no suffering from autism.
My children are happy and thriving.
They are amazing kids.
We are truly happy. Because we choose to be truly happy. And we look at the positives in life and choose to dwell on the good. We celebrate every little, teeny, weeny victory. Because life is short and I refuse to be sad, mucked down and miserable. I want to enjoy life. I want to enjoy my kids.
When something like this happens (and believe me, people have killed their autistic children many, many, many times) the world kinda says, “OMG! Autism is so hard! Autism is so awful! ” and no doubt the eejits will climb out of the wood work with this one and blame it on Zoloft (which she took) or vaccines (which her baby no doubt had) or something else. We must not allow the fact that she SUSPECTED her child was autistic to cloud our thoughts. Focus on the real issues here. Postpartum. Overwhelmed mother. Ignored warning signs. She should have had help. And she shouldn’t have killed her child out of fear of autism.
And just to show you that autism is nothing to be afraid of (trust me, I live it every day. There are no guarantees in life and you have to make the best of what you have, yo), I prepared something below for you. So you can see for yourself. Now, it ain’t all tea and cakes. There are some really rough days. I admit it. It’s haaaaaaard. But my friends without autistic kids? They all complain about the same stuff I do. Being tired. Being harried. Not having enough time. Wanting to get away without the kids. Sure, they probably call the police and visit the ER less than I do, but really, it isn’t that much different (ok, I’m sure they sleep more than I do and clean the carpets less and spend less money fixing crap and…but I digress). So, without further ado, here you go: