My youngest son, Nick, is autistic.
We found this out a little over a year ago and the last year has been a constant learning experience. I will not lie to you, the first week or so was rough. I cried a lot. I had lots of questions, most of which started with "why me?", "why us?", and "why him?".
"Why me?" "Why us?"
After all these years of trying so hard to have another child, all the babies I lost and all the years of infertility. Why can't I just enjoy the last and final child I will have in this lifetime and not have it be a struggle. I'm too old for this. I can't do this. WE can't do this. Where do we start? What do we do?
I finally have my miracle baby. The one that survived when all the other angel siblings did not. I was sure he was destined for greatness. I just knew he was the golden child. Now we find out he's autistic. His life is a struggle and he doesn't know it. Why him? Why can't he be "normal"?
I was stuck on the idea of "normal". I wanted a child that was "normal". I have since learned that no one is "normal". I mean really, we are all a little screwed up in our own way. I have accepted that Nick IS normal. He is normal for NICK. I accept my son for who he is and I enjoy his little quirks.
When I was in the deepest of my depression about his diagnosis, I happened upon this post on a website about autism. I read it and was amazed as I read it through teary eyes that it made me feel better.