Dreaming

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?

1 in 54 - Happy Birthday to Him

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.

My life will never be the same. We will never be that traditional family. I would not trade my little boy for any normal boy in the world. He is the most precious imperfectly perfect gift in the world. I love my baby boy.

Dreaming of Tomorrow.

I long for the day I can look you in the eye when I say I love you. I want to feel your touch as I want to breathe.

In the Silence

I am a six year old little boy who appears like all little boys. I can be mischievous and stubborn like the other boys. My mommy tells people that I am different. She explains to others that my thought process is not the same. Apparently my brain works faster than the normal child’s. What makes me remarkably different is that I cannot talk. I have no means to express my needs and desires. This makes me a very frustrated little boy. The day before Mother’s Day I went to dinner with my family. I love being with my family and my cousins understand and love me for who I am. Mommy took us to Wal-mart afterwards. She let me and my sister walk and let us be little free spirits (that’s what she calls it). This little girl comes up to me and got right into my face. She scared me. I wanted to tell her to please move that I was frightened but I have no words. So I did a naughty thing. I hit her. She ran to tell her mommy. I didn’t realize that my naughty thing was that bad. On my way to the car that mommy approached my parents. She said some mean things about me. She said that I was retarded and needed to be caged. Why would a grown woman say such mean things about me? Does she not realize that I am autistic?