Fears and Hope

My greatest fear isn’t autism.

My greatest fear isn’t DD classes.

Or wandering.
Or language disorders.
Or night terrors or meltdowns.

Or the restructuring of my dreams for our future.

My greatest fear is that I am entirely capable of helping him become one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known. But that I will fail him because I didn’t know how to do better than I’m doing.

That there was a better therapy, a better supplement, a better lifestyle. A better way.

My greatest fear is that all the understanding, patience, love and brilliance that he needs is all within me, and I don’t know how to tap into it.

My greatest fear is that I’m capable of being enough. I just don’t know HOW to be.

My hope is that by filling up our days with the kind of pleasant mediocreness I pretend would exist if he were NT, I am finding our way to that brilliance he needs.

So.

We shop in our pjs.
Because he has a hard time with clothes.

We share ice cream.
Because he hasn’t figured out how to lick the backside of his cone.

I let him carry baby toys around the store.

I repeat with him, line by line, his favorite movies.

I hold him in the tub when he’s scared of the water eating him.

We yell. We giggle. We tickle.

We cry.

 
And I spend my days with him chasing hope.

And outrunning fear.

May I be ever swift.

❤ Spectrum Mom

P.S.
Pic is my Boy. In his pjs. Hunting zombies. From the trunk of Grandma’s car. Which everyone knows is the best vantage point for hunting zombies.

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