“I’m so happy!”

        
“I’m so happy!”

This boy has said these words a lot lately. What this means to me, I must try and explain. There have been periods in his life where I never thought he would be able to say something like this. When you have a child with limited or delayed speech, you sometimes spend years coaxing out the (seemingly) simplest of words.

For me, the one that will always stand out as the longest wait was “Mom.”  I will tell you that today, when he says, “Hi, Mommy!” it still sounds just as sweet as the first time I heard it. Even on those days where he says it twenty times in five minutes (repetition, repetition, repetition!) 

There were also periods where I knew he didn’t feel happy.  Really long, rough patches. We still have our hard moments, hard days, hard weeks. Truthfully, “hard” seems like such an inadequate description. The things we are dealing with are ones I never imagined facing as a parent, and I will never grow used to, either.

This boy endures a difficult reality every single day.  The pain, confusion, and frustration he feels is immeasurable at times, especially because he cannot explain it to anyone. It breaks my heart how lonely that must feel.  

But you know what he can do? He may have a rough day, but he’ll also find moments to just sit in gratitude and appreciate his life and unabashedly proclaim his happiness whenever he feels it. “I’m so happy!” he’ll shout, completely unprompted, when a familiar song comes on in the car, or he’s snuggled up in his favorite blanket, or when he is served a huge slice of watermelon. 

This little seven-year-old practices gratitude for simple, happy moments.  So why shouldn’t we?

I don’t let myself get lost in the hard days anymore. A tough morning does not define an entire day. Even in this dumpster fire of a year, there is still so much to be happy about. Don’t get so lost in the hard that you miss the simple, beautiful moments like this one.

I’m so happy, too, buddy. 

Hi, Mommy!
I’m happy!

will this ever get easier?

I have asked myself this question so many times in what felt like weak moments.

There are parts of this autism motherhood road I have accepted will not get any easier. There is no way to dull the pain you feel while watching your child battle big things, things no child should have to face. The anxiety, rigidity, and emotions they cannot make sense of or verbalize. Their frustration channeled into self-injurious behaviors. 

When your child hurts, you hurt. Try as I may, I cannot come up with the words to describe the feeling of seeing my son hurt himself out of frustration.  When there is nothing left for him to do except scream at the top of his little lungs, the words he needs consistently trapped deep inside of him. I picture our developed brains something like a smoothly running interstate, while my son’s is an entanglement of traffic jams, dead ends, and one-way streets.  A never-ending, exhausting road. 

Admitting the difficult, to yourself or others, is not weak. 

That is where you learn to grow, adapt, and summon up your strength and resilience.

Whatever your struggle is right now, keep at it. Lean on others, talk about it.

You will grow stronger.