If it Never Gets Any Better…

Cooper (1)

Part of me started to believe it was going to be really hard forever.

Part of me started to only know how to live in the intensity. The chaos.

I learned how to manage. How to react. I found happiness there. It was my normal.

I could handle it all. The running. The self injuring. The screaming.

I perfected ‘first-then,’ token boards, timers, a speech device, therapy, calm body-calm hands, family skills…you name it. I could do it all.

I made your happiness the center of my world kid. Willingly. Happily. But I’ll be honest, living consistently at that level of intensity took it’s toll.

And then seven days ago it started to get better. We started down the path of medication. And it’s the best decision we ever made. To learn more about our decision to medicate click HERE.

A week without behaviors. Almost zero.

Therapists are noticing. Your dad and I are shocked. Giddy. Scared it’s going to go away.

You are sitting. Sitting my son. You sit at the dinner table. You sit and watch your iPad. Before seven days ago, you never sat. Not ever. You ran. You rolled. But you didn’t sit.

You haven’t screamed at me in a week. My house is calm. Now the sounds coming from you are ‘M-O-M,’ snack requests, and laughter.

Last night you ate a taco. And apple pie. That’s never happened before.

Then we went for a walk to the park. You didn’t run into the road. You had no dangerous behaviors. You laughed. You had fun.

This morning you woke up happy as usual. You dressed yourself, put your shoes on and requested to go to school.

You are starting to communicate too. Every word is an absolute gift.

Cooper, if it never gets any better than it is right now, I want you to know I am so proud of you.

This is enough.

Of course I will never settle. We will keep going. Keep plowing forward and paving the way. But this, this is amazing.

You are amazing.

Speech, sitting, walking, smiling. It’s more than I ever imagined it could be. I’ve let my breath out.

You are calm. And so am I. I’m not running anymore.

I have never met someone who is working harder than you Cooper.

I am so unbelievably lucky to be a part of this life. I get to see someone learn everything for the first time. I get a front row seat for your magical life.

Thank you sweet boy.

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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Kate Swenson

Kate Swenson lives in Minnesota with her husband Jamie, and four children, Cooper, Sawyer, Harbor and Wynnie. Kate launched Finding Cooper's Voice from her couch while her now 11-year-old son Cooper was being diagnosed with autism. Back then it was a place to write. Today it is a living, thriving community of people who want to not only advocate for autism, but also make the world a better place for individuals with disabilities and their families. Her first book, Forever Boy, will be released, April 5, 2022.

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