Imagine not being being able to tell someone what’s on your mind. Imagine not being able to tell someone if you’re having a hard day. Imagine not being able to tell someone that your tummy hurts. Imagine not being able to tell someone that you’re upset. Imagine not being able to tell someone that you’re feeling down and why. Imagine not being able to tell someone why you can’t sleep. Imagine not being able to tell someone that you’re happy. Imagine not being able to communicate. Imagine being a mother…
January 16, 2017 It’s been 4 years since my son Stalen was diagnosed on the autism spectrum. He was 21 months old. I remember he was wild in the room as we waited for the doctor to come in and speak with us. He was throwing toys and picking crumbs from the carpet. He was pulling single plastic gloves from a box hanging on the wall. I was trying to hold myself together with strict composure but could feel the lump in my throat and the anxiety deep in the…
One of the questions I am most commonly asked about as Cooper’s mom is about tummy troubles. Did he have them when he was younger? Does he now? The answer was yes. And now thankfully, no. Many children have constipation. Children with autism might have more problems with constipation than other children. And difficulty with things like sitting on the toilet and eating different foods can make treating constipation challenging. Our son was no stranger to this. Since he was unable to communicate pain or discomfort, it took us some…
I never gave much thought to social norms before I had my son Cooper. Although I do remember a college professor speaking about them and advising each of us to stand backwards in an elevator and watch people squirm. Besides that though, I guess I have just always done them so they rarely cross my mind. That is until autism. My sweet boy is 10. He has blonde hair that is coarse like straw and ruddy cheeks, and he is entirely himself in every way. He doesn’t know how to…
There is 8 years between these two. 10 and 2. The little brother and the big brother. I know the facts. The little ones spoken language passed up Cooper’s months ago. He has a hundred words. He uses full sentences. When the younger one leaves home, Cooper will be 26 years old. A grown man. The baby doesn’t know what autism is. Or even that on paper his older brother is nonverbal. They have never, not once, played a game together. Not in a traditional way. And their Dad and…
You’re five and half years old now. You’ve never asked me a question. That’s the first thing that comes to mind when I notice how tall you are now. Reading it takes my breath away a little. I blink back a tear or two. After I take a deep breath, I remember. That’s not exactly true. You learned to request around your last birthday. You come up to me. Always wanting something when you stand so close. You say a very clear and beautiful, “popsicle”. With great intonation, by the…
My son is amazing! Keegan is 9 years old and in the 4th grade. He is silly, loving, funny, smart, energetic, creative and a genuinely happy child. He also has autism and he’s nonverbal so things aren’t always easy. There are meltdowns and non typical behaviors and he can’t always express his feelings or wants. Keegan uses a speech device to help him communicate. It has helped Keegan and our family so much! The speech device has changed our family for the better. It’s given my child a voice and…
I know, mama. I know that right now it’s really bad. I know that it feels like the world is crumbling around you and you don’t know how you are going to move on. One day, things won’t be so scary. Don’t get me wrong…it is always going to be hard. The hard will never really get better, but you will mama. You will get better. You will get better at the paperwork. One day, those forms won’t make you cry. You will get better at the meetings. One day,…
Dear Momma, I see you, driving down the road with tears in your eyes. I see the deer caught in headlights look as your hands firmly grip the wheel. You sob, uncontrollably, afraid to utter the words that well within your body. I know you utter how much your child is loved, how you wouldn’t change them for the world, that you will get through it together but I know you’d give your life in a heartbeat to have it so your child didn’t struggle with aggression. I know the…
No one person knows my life, the extent of what I have witnessedin sterile hospital rooms while my daughters beautiful minds seized for what seemed to be an eternity. Nor do they know the joy and pride in my heart when my nonverbal child signs “I love you” to me and I can feel the depth of her love through her tight squeezes and occasional love pinches. I have been battered with sleepless nights of chaos, insulin, low alert alarms, pure worry and panic of a life altering seizure or…
