I dream of him as I sleep. I dream of him when I'm awake. He knows for me he is my sweetest dream as well as my heart's desire. Will his face I ever touch again?
Monday, January 28, 2013
At this time seven years ago I was preparing for the birth of my youngest son. I had all of the hopes and dreams as other mothers. I expected so much from this little being. At about 11 pm he came into this world kicking in screaming like all other babies. Never before and never since have I seen a more beautiful baby. He resembled a dark haired cherub. From the moment of birth I began to learn the unconditional love for this child. He soon became my world and everything became about him.
This birthday is bittersweet for me. In all appearances he is a boy of seven, but in actuality he’s not like most boys his age. He has become a statistic. In the United States he is 1 in every 88 children, and he is also 1 in 54 boys. He is not now nor will he ever be viewed in this world as normal. In our household we have learned that normal is a dryer function and nothing else. My son was diagnosed 2 years ago as having autism.
In his life he has already seen hate because he’s different. He has been made to feel like he was lesser because he couldn’t do the things that the other kids do. Through him I am learning just what my role in life will be. I was born to be his mom. I was made to find hope for him where there is none. I fight to find his sense of normalcy. I seek to defend him against the ignorance around him. I may not have any super powers, but I was blessed to be a special needs mom. We are fewer than those with “typical” functioning children, because only the strong are chosen.