Two years ago, when I was my mother-in-law’s refusal to believe our daughter’s autism, times were tough. At the time, my daughter hadn’t yet received an official diagnosis and my mother-in-law just couldn’t understand her meltdowns.
Despite how hard things were, however, it has never crossed my mind or my husband’s to cut off my mother-in-law’s involvement in our lives. Both of us wanted our daughter to grow up with a grandmother’s nurturing love. We just had to figure out how to make it, well, more ‘pleasant’ for everyone.
That required a lot of therapy on my part, to unpack my own triggers. I realised, over time, how my mother-in-law is very much a product of the ableism in her generation. A lot of her fears for my daughter stem from a very ableist and outdated model of disability – viewing disability as something that needs to be hidden and tucked away, instead of embraced and accommodated for.
I can’t unpack her internalised ableism for her, but what I can do is model that kind of acceptance through my own behaviour. Even before my daughter’s official diagnosis, I knew she was doing the best she could, with what she knew.
A lot of her fears stem from viewing disability as something that needs to be hidden and tucked away, instead of embraced and accommodated for
Even though my mother-in-law didn’t take my suspicions seriously, if there’s one authority a 70-year-old Asian grandmother does listen to, it’s the medical establishment. The game changer was an official diagnosis by my daughter’s developmental paediatrician. My husband and I were relieved. We could finally apply for her disability paperwork. She could get her classroom accommodations when it was time for her to start primary school. That meant she could start off her first year of school in the much smaller special needs class, until she felt ready to be integrated into the mainstream classroom.
When my husband first told his mother about our daughter’s diagnosis, she was devastated. She was worried that our daughter would struggle throughout her life, and end up ostracised. My husband reassured her that her diagnosis is a good thing – that we would be better equipped to give our daughter the support she deserves. My mum-in-law needed time to process the news. And when she did, she offered to help by sponsoring private therapy sessions for her, whether it be occupational therapy, art therapy or play therapy. We welcomed the financial help.
If there’s one authority a 70-year-old Asian grandmother does listen to, it’s the medical establishment
Best of all, it was a relief to finally have my mother-in-law believe what I had known all along. We could finally be on the same team and work together to support my daughter. She could finally see that we were attuned parents, and had always worked on helping our autistic daughter meet her needs – even if she didn’t understand it at the time.
Despite our initial hurdles, my mother-in-law is the only close family we have here, and our most reliable free babysitter. The rest of our family members are far away, and we see them too infrequently for any kind of regular babysitting.
On my challenging days, when I am overwhelmed by the demands of two small humans, I am grateful that my mother-in-law is more than happy to look after her granddaughters so I can rest. Despite her own health struggles, she loves to cook for my daughters, read books to them, and take us all out to restaurants. She offers my daughters a different kind of love and nurturing, and they love her for it.
I am grateful that my mother-in-law is more than happy to look after her granddaughters so I can rest
While our differences in communication styles remain, I do not doubt, for a heartbeat, my mother-in-law’s deep love for my daughters. When she is regulated and calm, she is able to make space for my autistic daughter’s big feelings. When she’s not, then it’s up to me and my husband to be the calm ones.
A recent exchange showed how far we’ve come as a family. My daughter tends to make lots of noise when she’s dysregulated. Her help her to self-soothe. This is a massive trigger for my mother-in-law, who was taught from a very young age only to be seen, and never, ever heard.
“Why are you so annoying?” my mother-in-law snapped at her.
I was too tired to respond and was glad when my husband calmly pointed out, “She is annoyed.”
“She is also annoying,” my mother-in-law felt compelled to add. A few years ago, this would have infuriated me. This time, I actually found it funny – especially because my distracted daughter didn’t even notice what her annoyed grandmother was saying.
It’s heartwarming to see how these days, my daughter is the one looking after her grandmother sometimes
The upside of my daughter dealing with an occasionally prickly grandmother – with our unconditional love and support – is the gift of resilience. The last thing I want is for my daughter to be caught off guard by the variety of difficult personalities that exist outside our home. From a young age, we’re teaching her that even family members come with their own challenges.
It’s heartwarming to see how these days, my daughter is the one looking after her grandmother sometimes. She asks if her grandmother is okay after a bout of the flu. She brings her grandmother her water bottle and phone when she’s resting on the sofa. She also recently declared that she wants her grandmother to live till she’s a hundred. This kind of open-hearted, deeply loyal, fiercely protective love is such a gift from my beautiful, autistic little girl.
* Author’s real name is not used.
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