Where do I start?

First steps to support my child from home

Preamble: from mom to mom

I want you to imagine that we’re having coffee together. You, with your heart racing and your mind full of questions. Me, with the experience of having walked through a dark tunnel I once thought had no exit.

I want you to know that I understand you. I understand the fear you feel when something about your child doesn’t seem right. I understand the anguish of hearing a diagnosis that changes everything. I understand that feeling of being alone, even when surrounded by people. I was there.
I was in that deep hole of pain, shut inside my home for two years, looking at my son and asking myself over and over again: "Where do I start?"

Alan was not an easy pregnancy. We waited for him for ten years after failed attempts and treatments that left us emotionally and physically exhausted. He finally arrived thanks to a second in-vitro fertility treatment. He was our miracle.

That’s why, when my husband began noticing changes in his development before he turned two, my first reaction was to deny it. I didn’t want to listen, I didn’t want to compare, I didn’t want to accept it. And even though I had experience as a special education teacher, I wasn’t prepared to see it in my own child.

The diagnosis came when Alan was one year and four months old. ‘He is on the autism spectrum. We need more tests to determine the level.’ After months of evaluations, they confirmed it: severe autism, level 3.

I felt the ground open beneath my feet. I didn’t question God, but the pain was immense. And more than the diagnosis itself, what truly broke me was the loneliness. Very few people said to me, ‘Let’s look for solutions.’ Most only talked about limits, standard therapies, and low expectations.

But I couldn’t accept that this was the only path.

1. Breathe: the first step is to pause

I know that when you hear the word ‘autism,’ the first thing you want to do is everything at once. You want the best therapy, the best diet, the best specialist… but let me tell you something that took me a long time to understand: you cannot save your child from a place of chaos.

In my case, the first months were a whirlwind of searching, medical appointments, and enormous expenses. I was exhausted, with my mind full of information and my heart full of fear. Until one day, in the middle of it all, I realized that the only thing Alan needed from me in that moment was my calm.

Breathing is not giving up. It is giving yourself permission to process, to think clearly, and to make decisions from love and not from panic.

Practical task for you:

Set aside 10 minutes a day to close your eyes and breathe deeply. Then write down three things in a notebook:

1. What you are feeling today.

2. What worries you the most.

3. What you are most grateful for.

It’s a simple exercise, but it will help you clear your mind before making important decisions.

2. Observe before taking action

Before changing routines, removing foods, or enrolling your child in therapies, take some time to observe and record.

I remember that when we started writing everything down about Alan, we discovered patterns we never would have identified from memory:

• He slept poorly on the nights he ate certain foods.

• His meltdowns were more intense after specific sound stimuli.

• There were days when he was more connected and calm, and they usually coincided with less abdominal inflammation.

That record became our map. It showed us where to begin and which adjustments were worth making.

Practical tool:

Create a daily log with columns for:

• Sleep: hours, quality, awakenings.

• Food: what he ate and at what time.

• Behavior: mood changes, meltdowns, connection.

• General observations: anything that catches your attention.
  

Do this for at least 2 weeks before making big decisions.

3. Choose only one priority at a time

One of the most common mistakes—and one I made myself—is wanting to fix everything at the same time.

In our case, Alan had sleep issues, behavior challenges, trouble with language, and feeding difficulties. But we learned that the key is to choose one single priority and work on it deeply.

We started with gut health. It was the best decision we could have made, because when his gut began to improve, so did his sleep, his energy, and his ability to pay attention.

Maybe in your case the first step is to establish clear routines or improve sleep. It doesn’t matter which one you choose—what matters is focusing on one thing for 4 to 6 weeks.

Key phrase:
“Less is more… when that ‘less’ is done well.”

4. Create an environment that works in your favor

You don’t need a therapy room with thousands of materials.
You need a space at home that is predictable, safe, and adapted to your child’s needs.
For Alan, this meant:

• A calm corner with his favorite blanket and cushions.

• Fewer objects creating visual noise.

• Visual routines with drawings to anticipate what was coming next.

Those simple changes reduced his crises and helped him feel safer.

Practical tip:
Choose a quiet corner in your home and turn it into their calming space. Include textures they like, a favorite toy, and dim the lights.

5. Seek community (and be selective)

On this journey, there is a lot of information—and not all of it is good for you.
You need people who give you real hope and practical tools.

I spent two years practically alone because I was tired of hearing things like “it is what it is” or “don’t expect too much.”

During my own process, I couldn’t find a community to ask questions. I tried many times.

My only refuge was learning—I clung to my books. I read many topics trying to understand what was happening with Alan, and it took me a long time to piece together my own puzzle.

I had to look for answers in adult pathology because I couldn’t find anything useful in pediatric literature for children with autism. It was truly frustrating.

Since I couldn’t have a real support community myself, I started building one.

Thanks to my community, I can see the relief moms feel when they finally have someone to ask about their doubts and concerns.

A real community gives you strength to continue and allows you to learn from other experiences.

6. Take care of yourself so you can take care of your child

I know it sounds impossible. Between appointments, therapies, and house tasks… when are you supposed to take care of yourself?

But I want you to remember this: If you fall, everything shakes. Your energy, your mental health, and your well-being are part of your child’s treatment.

In my case, learning to delegate, accept help, and carve out moments for myself made a huge difference. It wasn’t selfishness—it was survival.

Finally: your first step begins today

If today you feel like you don’t know where to start, here is the summary:

1. Breathe.

2. Observe.

3. Choose one single priority.

4. Adapt your environment.

5. Surround yourself with the right community.

6. Learn to take care of yourself so you can support your child.

You don’t need to know everything today. Just take one step. And tomorrow, another. I know what it feels like to think there is no way out. I also know what it feels like to look back and say: “It was worth continuing”. You will say it too. Just trust and start with one step and seek support to help you stay on the path.