The Worry is Nonstop

We were sitting with the realtor about to discuss what we were looking for in a new home.

I know she wanted to know about bedrooms and bathrooms and location.

I didn’t care about that stuff. Not really. In the grand scheme of things that stuff wasn’t a priority.

“We can’t be near a busy road. The house has to have a fence or the ability to add one BEFORE we move in. And most importantly, we cannot, under any circumstances, be near water. Non negotiable. I worry about windows up high. They must have locks. The doors need to be strong too.”

I think I caught her off guard the way I said it with such intensity. I went onto to tell her about my Cooper.

My son is six. He has no words. No sense of safety or understanding of danger. If any of our doors or windows are unlocked for a second he will be in the street. Or the yard. Or a pond. He will not look for traffic. He will wander. Or run. Head down. Or looking back.

I went onto explain the realities of severe autism to her. To someone outside of our world.

She didn’t know what to say. She said she would do her best.

To this day I worry about water constantly. I see every pond, creek, lake and river. I know the love my son has for water. He is almost drawn to it.

It’s the same with traffic. And busy roads. He loves the hum of the tires on the road. The license plates on the cars.

He loves sitting and lying in streets. He loves diving into them too. My husband and I have both pulled him back from danger more times than we can count.

It was much easier when he was 2 and 4 and even 6. Almost 9 is not small. Almost 9 is fast, and smart and sneaky.

I jiggle the locks on the door every single time I walk by them. Hundreds of times a day sometimes. I need to know he can’t escape if I go upstairs or use the bathroom.

The ‘ding’ on the alarm system notifying me if a window or door is open. I wait for the ding. I jiggle the doors. All day. Every day. Most likely for the rest of my life.

I used to love water. I used to love busy and hustle and bustle and people. I used to love being outside. Wide open spaces. Beaches.

Now, I prefer safe. And quiet. It’s funny how all of this changes us as people. It’s the fear. And the worry. It consumes us as parents.

Because what if I’m too late. What if I take too long in the bathroom. What if I can’t keep him safe. This vulnerable, innocent, sweet little boy.

It’s the what ifs that’ll eat you alive.

We aren’t supposed to talk about it I hear. It’s too negative.

Funny, I think my son getting hurt or lost is a wee bit more negative than my worry. But what do I know. I just live it.

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.