Sometimes late at night I walk silently through my house and I’m in a little awe as I realize “this” is my home. The beautiful children I place kisses on are “my” children, and the slumbering dog at the foot of the stairs, he calls me master.
I know it shouldn’t be a surprise but I think at times I feel like I am still the child looking for a parents love and guidance to mould and shape me into the person I want to be, and then, I chuckle to myself as I remember I am no longer a teen but a thirty something and I’ve been taking care of myself just fine for quite sometime.
When I watch my children laugh and run and play I also feel a wonderment of sorts. I can revel in the fact I’ve done something really wonderful in bringing them into this world and I have been blessed. I watch as they speak and share, I see familiar gestures and smiles and take pride in knowing I’ve done something right to have such beautiful little men. Watching them ‘become’ someone is priceless and I am enthralled by the process.
I would never say that it is easy, Motherhood. I can say it was very welcomed and the strife was worth it. I would not ask for it to be easier for fear I’d lose any of the enjoyment and contentment it’s given me.
I have been asked many times how I do it and how I do it with a child with extra needs and I can honestly say I don’t think it’s any harder with Autism, just different.
I’ve been a Mom of a autistic children from the moment I was given the gift of motherhood. Could I love anymore or enjoy it any better? No. I don’t think I could. My heart was forever locked to Lincoln from the moment that first cry broke the silence of the room. One thing I can say is a mother of a child on the spectrum might just judge herself a tad harsher then a typically functioning parent. Maybe we feel like we’ve let our child down, perhaps we could have protected them more or our bodies let them down as nurtured and grew them from a little speck into a wonderfully and perfectly formed being.
It’s silly really, How parents blame themselves for things they couldn’t possibly control. It’s like walking through life shouldering the blame for the clouds in the sky or rain on a wedding day.
How do I do it?
One step at a time. With a smile on my face and my heart bursting with love for my wonderful children. All of them perfect and adored.
The best thing I can hear at the end of the most brutal day is a little voice call out “I love you Mom.”
THAT is how I do it.
And I am completely content.