A War With Hope

My son Cooper has taught me so much about timing over the years.

And how we don’t have a set time limit to accomplish things.

When he was diagnosed we heard a lot of things.

We heard game over. We heard prepare for the worst.

We heard he would never talk, or make a friend or ride a bike.

We were told he would never live independently or have any type of self care.

After kindergarten we were told he would never be able to attend a public school. And whatever program he was in would have to be an independent one because integration with his peers just wasn’t possible.

We were told he would never graduate from high school. Or drive a car. Or have a real job.

You can see the trend here. And you can assume how a parent starts to feel. And think about the future.

But if you are anything like me and my husband, you fight. I can’t think of any other word.

You fight a war that no one can see. A war with hope. A war with the world. A war for our children to be seen and acknowledged.

Every day. Because these kids are worth it.

Yesterday we had Cooper’s first IEP meeting in years. He went back to public school this year after being told he was too severe for the severe autism center.

We had nowhere else to go. It felt like no one wanted him.

My blonde haired, hazel eyed, train loving, gasping, dancing boy. We had reached the end of the road at age 9.

But I was wrong. Our neighborhood school wanted him. His soon to be teacher wanted him. But I was nervous. I was scared and hesitant.

Because I had been told so many things for so many years.

Yesterday for a full hour his dad and I heard what a joy he is and how much potential he has.

He can read sight words. He can type. He can do some addition. He acknowledges his peers. He is eating lunch in the lunchroom! He is riding the bus and going out for recess. He is sitting at a desk and attending circle time. He even has a friend. I cried when she told me that.

He loves hugging and waving. He has joint attention. And empathy.

When he goes back to school he is going to start joining his gen ed peers in the fourth grade class. Something I never dreamed could happen. Something that scares me and makes me want to take him and hide. But he’s ready. It’s time. His time.

He is going to try to learn to rollerblade and ride a bike. And bounce a ball and type words so someday he can text with me.

He is. And he can. My son. The one they said wouldn’t. And couldn’t.

And maybe he will. And maybe he won’t.

But we aren’t giving up over here. Not now. Not ever.

Because there is no time limit. He has infinite time to figure this complicated world out.

He will be ten in three days. We’ve been counting down for weeks now. He can’t wait for his birthday.

I’m so excited for this year. His year. Because his future is so bright.

And I’ll promise you this, I won’t let anyone dull it with their predictions ever again.

Don’t ever count these kids out.

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.