Here I am Again

Quietly I sit listening to the silence of our home.

I hear the peaceful sounds of my family’s dreams. Yet here I sit.

Wide eyed with an exhausted body and mind.

How could I shut my eyes when all I see are my fears of his unknown future?

Worrying. Praying. Researching. Learning.

This is my time. My time the thoughts I push away in the daylight creep in.

I hate how they settle in for the night and determine their own curfew—when to call it good and let my mind rest.

I’m made for this.

I was chosen to carry this precious child in my womb.

If I’m made for this why do I feel like I’m failing?

Why is it so hard for me to know how to best reach him—and teach him.

How can I balance everything? We need to find our balance.

Questions arise after thoughts intrude their way in.

I can’t go there. I can’t keep killing myself trying to solve the mystery.

The mystery that I feel should already be solved. Where are the answers?

I want to enter his world. I want to know how he feels, thinks, learns.

No, my best will never be enough in my own eyes. We have to keep searching.

I have to keep trying. Keep pushing forward. I have to find our balance.

It’s only fitting that my mind runs at night when my feet run all day.

Always running to another therapy appointment. Always chasing after my child trying to get him to simply interact with me. It isn’t simple.

My shoes are worn from running. I often picture a nonexistent worn path.

Worn flooring from the constant happy steps of my child, running the same path in front of his favorite spot of the room. Worn circles.

Can I come along?

Can I spin with you and have us laugh together?

I get dizzy and have to tap out.

You keep going.

My love runs so deep. Everything my child does is beautiful to me.

Anger fills me that the world chooses not to see that precious child like I do. Infinite wishing for the worlds eyes to open like the eyes of a loving mother after everyone else is asleep.

When our voices are finally heard and our children are accepted, we can learn how to flip the mind switch off.

We can rest knowing our hearts who walk outside our bodies will be ok. That our children are finally understood, accepted, and respected.

Here I am again.

Written by, An Anonymous Mother

Finding Cooper’s Voice accepts guest posts from writers who choose to stay anonymous. I do this because so many of these topics are hard to talk about. The writers are worried about being shamed. They are worried about being judged. As a writer and mother I totally get it. But I also understand the importance of telling our stories. And this will ALWAYS be a safe place to do it.

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Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.

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Finding Cooper's Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you're never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village....all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to my page!

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When my son was first diagnosed with autism no one was talking about it. Autism was hidden. I vow to change that.
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