Dear Autism, Happy 3rd Birthday

Dear Autism,

Happy third birthday. 

While it may have taken you 9-12 months to come around, when you finally reared your head, you made your point. 

You have brought us so much joy, and so much pain over these last three years. 

We cried when the doctor sat us in the chair in her office and said, “It’s autism.”

Your dad and I held hands, separated by a small table housing a box of much needed tissues, and we stared not at each other, but directly at the doctor as she spoke those words. 

When I say we cried, we cried.  But we were not sad. 

Like so many parents before us, and so many to come, the tears came as an unstoppable force of relief. 

We had an answer, we had the word, the word we needed to finally start the next chapter in our life. 

We would crusade, and we would take you along, and not defeat or disguise you, but define and shape you into part of our family. 

We knew what to do. 

You, autism, had other plans. 

You continued to make your presence known. 

You wandered aimlessly around our home, refused to respond to your name, or to loud noises in general. 

You wouldn’t speak, or sign, or use pecs; you wouldn’t cuddle or sleep. Doctors, dentists, haircuts – you’ve sure made them memorable bud! 

So many families out there get to ‘gram these moments, but instead we use our phones to call for reinforcements.

Someone needs to watch your sister while we do any of these routine things; we cannot do them alone.

Three years. 

It’s been three years since we’ve had you in our lives, and they’re all a blur. 

The good news is, if I remember correctly, all the early years are blurry when raising a neuro-typical child as well. 

I’m so proud of who you’ve become over these past three years, watching you progress, allowing us to begin to enter your world, and slowly joining us in ours. 

My birthday comes shortly after yours, and I cannot wait for the year you say Happy Birthday Mama to me. 

But I won’t rush it, because we’ve got a whole life time ahead of us, and slow and steady seems to be suiting us just fine.

I love you my little boy.

Mommy

Written by, Jill Logan

Jill is a self proclaimed left hand-turn, road less traveled kinda gal.  She’s a wife, momma, animal and ocean lover, and is always on the go!

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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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