October 13, 2010

Just Take It

My boy is getting older.

And stronger.

And things are not what they should be. They are not what I wanted, what I hoped for, even after I began the difficult process of accepting the "A word" and altering my dreams.

There are moments when the autism -- my son's autism, the autism that fills my family's days -- is so profound that it is like a slap to my face, a punch to the gut, a kick in the ribs .... a beatdown, when I am already face first in the dirt.

These moments come when I feel like my son is tormented by his inability to communicate with the world around him.

I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like to live inside his world.

I am rarely at a loss for words. The irony is not lost on me: how is it that MY child could have THIS problem????

I see how much he suffers and I wish I could give him my voice.

The medical geniuses of this world have discovered how to transplant hearts and lungs, kidneys and parts of livers .. they can pull bone marrow from one person and use it to cure cancer in another, they can remove skin from part of a person's body and graft it some place else ....

So, why, oh why, can't someone figure out how to take my voice and give it to my child?

They could take it. I'd go without.

They could take the part of my brain that controls language.

They could take the whole damn thing.

If it meant my child would no longer struggle.

I am not sure how much of my gray matter is still working anyway.

This world of autism is a lonely place.

It is so damn lonely for my child.

But it is lonely for the ones who love him, too.

It causes us to worry endlessly, to doubt ourselves, to grieve the loss of dreams.

It causes us to do things we never, ever would have dreamed ourselves capable of doing.

I smile at friends as they talk about the achievements of their children. I would never want them not to share.

But, wow, are there reminders -- everyplace, at every turn -- of just how much my life, and my family's life, is not what I had expected it to be.

So, figure it out, medical world.

Figure it out for me.

If it means taking my voice, then just tell me how and when.

I'll do it.

Just take it.

As long as you give it to him.


  1. Hi, I'm a new follower via the Special Needs blog hop. Happy Friday!


  2. I feel the same way. If I could give my son my voice, I would. Hi from the Special Needs Blog Hop.

  3. I know some of those feelings all to well. My son is verbal although he lacks communication when it comes to expressing his feelings appropriately. HUGS is the best I can offer :) Thanks for joining us in the Special Needs Blog Hop. I am now following you.

  4. Don't give up!! Both my guys were nonverbal and so was I. Some kids stay nonverbal but can learn to communicate through typing, sign, and other ways too. My guys talk now. Hang in there! Never give up. We're moms, we never do. :)
    ~Jen B from the blog hop