Page 22 - YOU Magazine | Issue 2 | E-Mag

“I came from a gang family but I was always kept safe and well loved. I had never seen domestic violence before but despite the fact I wanted to get Max checked out, I was stopped from doing so.”
Taking control
With little in the way of external support, Natasha was forced to carry on as normal, taking care of her babies the best that she could.
This was until the day she found the courage to leave home for good and seek the help her eldest son obviously needed.
One day she was walking past the community centre when she happened upon the same nurse.
“I apologised, I cried and I asked for her help. From there, the flood gates opened in the most amazing way. Being humble has been a very beautiful thing to learn.”
Just surviving
Max’s diagnosis was just the start of a life-altering journey for Natasha, which eventually saw both BB and Cedric endure the same fate.
For more than a decade, Natasha raised her children with next to no financial support.
“I knew it was up to me to give them what they needed.”
“Back in the day you had Scope Disability, MOIRA, Yorella and the DHS as a funding cell so I learned
what was out there and I survived as a result of that,” Natasha says.
In 2017 Natasha believed her luck was set to change with the introduction of the NDIS. But any hope proved short-lived.
Initially offered a funding package of just $300,000 for the care of all three children, Natasha drew on her inner warrior to successfully fight and appeal
the decision. Her efforts paid off and Natasha eventually secured $1 million in allocated funding to support her family.
At peace
Today Natasha remains her children’s strongest advocate.
The trio are happily settled at the Dandenong Valley Special Developmental School with a routine, as their needs allow.
While her children continue to challenge her in ways she never imagined, Natasha is no longer fighting alone, with a small army of supporters to assist her in
her journey.
“When the kids all come at me
at once, it can be hard. It’s isolating. But I’ve also learnt that it’s how you embrace it and it’s how you allow them to come at you,” she says.
“My own personal satisfaction comes from knowing my kids love me. The best quality I have learned through my journey with them is humility and saying: ‘Sorry, I made a mistake, can I try again?’”
Central to the team around them is the children’s carer Ha, who comes in each morning to help get the kids ready for school.
Hyper vigilant about whom she allows into her home, Natasha says Ha is the tonic the family needs.
“I was a bit hesitant to go
with agencies initially but Ha
is like a part of our family. She
is a beautiful lady. She knows how I roll and we have a good laugh together. We are now
so comfortable with her that if there’s ever a day where Ha’s sick, I tell them not to bother sending anybody else.”
Natasha says accepting help from others is one of the many lessons she has had to learn on her journey through autism.
While she has experienced many highs and lows, Natasha says she is now at peace with what the future holds.
“What I hope for their future is that my children are safe. I have accepted that they will never leave home and I’m okay with that.”
“In my culture they have a word for it – takiwātanga – which means in his or her own space. It’s a great description of my babies. Some people think it’s the end of the world when their children are autistic but I don’t agree.”
“I may not have gotten my team of All Blacks but my kids have taught me just as much, if not more than, I’ve ever taught them.”
22 WINTER 2020 You
“I was a bit hesitant to go with agencies initially but Ha is like a part of our family. She is a beautiful lady.”