Tough Days

There are days when raising a special needs child is harder than others. The constant screaming and crying that come from the frustration of not being able to express the simplest of things can be emotionally and physically exhausting. Only a handful of people who meet my son can even begin to sense what life with a two year old who battling autism must be like. Most people see the sweet innocent side of C. He is so happy and just loves life. You can’t help but see the joy in his eyes as he discovers new things, or is reintroduced to old things. I took the kids to the park a couple of weeks ago, and we’ll probably go again today as the weather is lovely, and the way C’s whole face and body lit up as I put him into the swing melted my heart. As much joy as he experienced in that swing, and equally strong frustration was soon to follow as it was time to get out of the swing. I held my baby boy as he cried and kicked and screamed for “MORE”. I felt like the worst mother in the world for having to end this blissful moment in time. Two minutes later as I pushed the stroller, homeward bound, he was content again, singing the ants go marching ‘HORRAH, HORRAH’. One of the biggest challenges I have been facing lately is to not compare my little C to other kids around him. This gets increasingly harder as I see kids less than half his age speaking so clearly and acting so ‘typically’. My heart breaks for my baby boy as I want so much for him, I want him to be able to accomplish so much. I think back to B at this age and remember what he was doing and saying and want so badly for C to be able to do the same things. I look to the future and know that C won’t be able to play soccer on a team or take independent swimming lessons at the same age B did. Our walks to the park will surely always involve a stroller, wagon or harness because he’d run off at the first opportunity otherwise. It is so easy to fall into the trap of negative thinking and on focusing everything C cannot do! A type of thinking that I could justify and get away with forever and I don’t think anyone could blame me. When I’ve had my moment of self pity, my moment of having my heart break for C, I look up, and focus on the good parts of our day, our life. Even the worst of days have good parts; the parts where C says a new word or discovers something new. 6 days ago, C said “Mommy”. Not “Mam ma” like he’s said for the past 6 moths, on and off, he said “MOMMY”. Then yesterday, he screamed “Mommy” and I came running. He was upset and wanted a hug. But no matter how much he continued to scream and kick and cry, I couldn’t help but smile because he called me by name! The world is right again and I know that my baby boy is living life to the fullest. He is working so hard to get his words and his hard work is paying off. C has just over 50 words now (and I’ve probably missed a few in my counting) and that number will continue to grow, no doubt. He’ll play soccer one day, on a team and we’ll walk to the park hand in hand. Those days will come, eventually. For now, I’m going to celebrate the small steps, that are ironically, HUGE!