What Neurodivergent Parenting Taught Me About Building a Special Needs Village
I didn't know what I was building at first.
In the early days after Harris's diagnosis, I was just trying to survive. Trying to get to the next appointment. Trying to understand a world I had never lived in before. Trying to hold it together for a little boy who needed more from me than I knew how to give.
But here's the thing nobody tells you at the beginning: you were never meant to do this alone.
And slowly, God started building something I couldn't see yet. He was building an army.
Where It Started
My background is special education. I taught for six years before stepping away. So when Harris was diagnosed, I knew enough to know one thing: this is going to be a journey, and I cannot do it by myself.
Harris had just turned three. Paul was filming in Atlanta when we got the news, and within weeks we were staring down one of the most chaotic seasons of our lives. We had two weeks to pack up our Los Angeles house, move everything into pods, and fly to Australia for three months where Paul was filming.
I remember sitting there thinking, okay. Okay. We do the next right thing.
While we were in Australia, I found an ABA therapy school for Harris there and got him started. At the same time, I was researching Atlanta schools from across the world, trying to build a life we hadn't moved into yet.
I'd be on my phone late at night, scrolling Facebook groups for parents in the Alpharetta area, posting things like: "We're moving to the area. Our son was just diagnosed with autism. Can anyone point me to good schools, speech therapists, chiropractors? I'm new to this and I need help."
And those autism moms showed up. They always show up.
They sent me names. They sent me warnings. (There was one therapy place they told me to avoid. A couple months later, it got shut down. That's the kind of information you only get from someone who's been in the trenches before you.)
I had a friend from my hometown, Emily Loftiss, who lives in Atlanta and has a son who is autistic. We got coffee and she sat down across from me and said, "All right. Here's what you need to know."
She walked me through everything. The scholarships. The therapists. The fight you have to be willing to put up. She's the one who connected us to our in-home ABA therapist. And the school Harris is at now connected us to his speech and OT team.
One conversation. One willing friend. A whole village started to take shape.
What ABA Therapy Actually Is
ABA stands for Applied Behavior Analysis. When Harris starts to move toward a behavior, his team helps figure out the why behind it, and then works to either redirect it or help him find a different path.
Harris has all his words. He just needs time to process. About one to two minutes for something you say to fully land. So a lot of our work is slowing down, waiting, and then helping him fill in the blank.
He also has a global processing delay, which means the world moves faster than his brain can keep up with. His therapy team understands that. They celebrate the things most people would overlook. And if you've ever had someone truly see your child, you know there is nothing like it.
We Also Said Yes to Things That Surprised Me
I grew up in South Georgia. I lived in LA for years. I'm not afraid of alternative approaches to wellness.
But even I wasn't prepared for how much the small things would matter.
Reducing the toxic load in our home made a real difference for Harris. His meltdowns decreased. His body just doesn't process toxins well, and once we started treating the environment, things shifted. I don't let anyone wear shoes inside our house anymore. We've worked too hard to undo that.
We also have a biocharger at home. When Harris was in Australia, his school had one, and the days he used it his oxygen levels to his brain quadrupled. He was making more eye contact, talking more, more present. Neurofeedback has also been part of our toolkit.
Here's what I've learned about neurodivergent parenting though: what works one week might not work the next. What works for one child won't work for another. Paul had to learn that one too. He'd make Harris's drink exactly the right way and Harris would want nothing to do with it.
You have to stay flexible. And you have to give yourself grace when the thing that worked yesterday stops working today.
The People God Placed in Our Corner: Our Special Needs Village
Every autism mom needs another autism mom.
Ours is Emily. Emily Loftiss has been mine. She gets it in a way that's hard to explain unless you've lived it. The appointments. The waiting. The advocacy. The grief that shows up right alongside the joy, sometimes in the same afternoon.
She has sat with me in the hard parts. She's prayed with me. She's reminded me that I'm not behind and I'm not alone. If you don't have an Emily yet, ask God for one. He knows exactly what you need.
Dr. Erik at Crew Chiropractic
Chiropractic care was not on my radar in the early days. But Harris lights up when we walk through that door. If you know anything about autism, you know that kind of comfort with a provider is not something you take for granted. It is something you protect.
God is in the details. I really believe that and we are so thankful for Crew Chiropractic.
The ABA Team, Speech, and OT
Harris has an ABA therapy team, an in-home therapist, a speech therapist, and an occupational therapist. That's a lot of people in and out of your life. A lot of schedules to coordinate. A lot of progress notes and parent training sessions.
But these are not just service providers. These are people who cheer when he does something that took months to learn. Who don't make you explain why that moment matters. They have shown up for Harris in ways that still make me tear up.
Fernanda - our Most Recent Addition
I have said it before and I will keep saying it: Fernanda is an answer to prayer.
She came to us as our au pair, a registered nurse from Brazil who loves Jesus. She is not just someone who helps with the kids. She is someone who knows Harris. Who understands him. Who loves him in a way you can actually feel. I did not build our village alone. God sent her to us.
Mrs. Shavonne
Mrs. Shavonne has been our house manager for a long time now, and what she has given this family goes so far beyond that title. She knows our home. She knows our rhythms. She knows Harris.
There is something deeply settling for a child like Harris about consistency. About familiar faces and familiar voices and people who don't have to be explained. Mrs. Shavonne is that for him. Steady. Kind. A constant in seasons that were anything but.
Aunt Lizzie
Elizabeth Pulliam has been woven into our family since the very beginning. She was there the night I went on my first date with Paul. She coordinated our engagement party. She was on FaceTime when I found out Harris was a boy. She was in the room when I delivered Isla Grace.
And Harris knows it.
He feels safe with her in a way that every autism mama will understand. When we travel and Lizzie comes with us, he wants to sit by her. He associates her with airplanes now, because she is the person he wants near him in new and unfamiliar places.
She is his calm. She is his safe place. She loves him with an unconditional love that he can feel. And that kind of love — steady, consistent, always there — is one of the most powerful things you can give a child like Harris.
A Note for the Mom Who Can't Afford All of This
I want to be honest here, because I know what I've described isn't something every family can access right away.
My biggest practical advice: find your local Facebook group. Go in and ask. Tell them you're new to this, tell them your situation, and ask for recommendations on schools, therapists, doctors, everything. Autism moms are warriors, and they will help you. They'll also tell you who to avoid. (That information alone is worth everything.)
Vet the recommendations. Don't believe every supplement claim. Do your homework slowly. And ask about scholarships. Harris qualifies for one that has helped us cover costs I didn't know were coverable.
You don't have to figure it all out at once. You just have to take the next step. And then the one after that.
What I Know Now
A child with autism needs an army.
He needs therapists who are trained and consistent and kind. He needs providers who see him as a whole person. He needs caregivers who love him the way family does. He needs a mama who has other mamas in her corner.
And he needs people who have simply always been there. Who knew him before the diagnosis. Who love him not in spite of his needs but right alongside them, without flinching.
Harris has all of that. Not because I figured it out perfectly. But because God, in His kindness, kept placing the right people in our path.
Every name in this post is a testimony.
Every single one.
If you're in the middle of building your village and it feels overwhelming, I see you. You are not behind. You are not alone. Keep going, friend. God is already placing the right people in your path. You just haven't met all of them yet.
