grief

My sister told me how a friend of hers described dealing with the difficulties of having a child with autism and I think its dead on.

Having a child with autism is like experiencing small deaths as the get older.

When they reach the age of school but they are assigned to a special education classroom: you grieve. When your child wont play with other kids around them: you grieve. When your child wont acknowledge a hello from a stranger or a common question like "how are you today?": you grieve.

Although there are happy times in between and their personalities bring so much light into your life, you grieve when you see that they are not reaching the full potential that is locked up inside. Its hard not to compare your child to others. You know you shouldn't but you do. Its hard not to notice the gap growing bigger. In my mind I imagine it as canyon. The gap may not be wide at the beginning of the Canyon; allowing you to just leap to the other side, but as you progress along the canyon the gap widens until it takes a helicopter to reach the other side.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have grieved. Its definitely not the first time, and it wont be the last.

My Nathan is no longer the cute little kid. Before I could explain that he has Autism, but 'look how cute he is'. Things he did were cute. The fact that he could spell any word put in front of him at 3, or he could quote lines from movies at the drop of a hat was cute.
Now, he is a big kid. He is just big with a problem. Those close to Nathan still think he's cute. Its so easy to love Nathan if you know his personality. He really is the sweetest kid, but he has a problem, and I'm afriad he has lost his cuteness to those outside our circle. Fits can no longer be blamed on the 'tantrums of a toddler'. I can barely contain him physically if he decides to throw one in public. I smile to let those around me now I can handle this; as he proceeds to kick me, the shopping cart or anything that is close by. In return, I am often met with looks of, 'cant you control your child - he's too big to be doing this'. Or others just choose to act like I am not there.

Its frustrating, but we press on. We're on a constant path to try to improve Nathan's standard of life. We are currently looking into different forms of treatment for Nathan - paths we have never gone down before. We never want to look back and think that there was more that we could have done.

These are random thoughts from a mothers who loves her son, but is looking for a way out of Autism. Logically, I know that this will follow him throughout his life. Emotionally, I want to see him thrive. Go on a mission. Get married. Have children. Have his own life.

I'm positive there will be more points of greif along Nathans path, but I hope for more points of rejoicing.