Always Talking About Autism

52 Week Writing Challenge

Lynn Browder
Jul 23, 2017 · 3 min read
My child had not had a bowel movement in three days. Lynn, why are you always talking about poop. Because it is important.

My child had not had a bowel movement in three days. Lynn, why are you always talking about poop. Because it is important.

I confirmed it with his school, Owen had not gone to the bathroom for three days. No poop. This is when I know there is a lot more to the brain/gut conundrum. He usually goes at night, after he eats and before bed.

The screams, the hits, the bites, they kept coming, as I was trying to get him to go to bed. I couldn’t get him to lay down and I couldn’t stop him from jumping. His body was struggling, I was struggling to find ways to help him. There was no happy medium for him, only the jitters of the night. Every tiny noise inched him towards being more awake and agitated.

I tried everything. Everything. I distracted, I cried, I counted, I sang, I compromised -I think with myself, I cried, I yelled, I spoke softly, I didn’t speak at all, and did I mention I cried. These are the nights that take my breath away. They hurt my body, because my baby can’t find peace, I can’t find peace for him or myself.

I rocked him in the chair that I was rocked in as a baby, holding him tight in a ball, rocking him, rocking him and rocking him. He finally went to the bathroom. He cried out as he lay in my arms from exhaustion, but still couldn’t let go so his body could rest.

I couldn’t process any of this that night, all I could do was scream out and ask God why was everything so hard. I asked God to please stop letting people tell me this gets easier, because there is nothing easy about having a five year old crying and screaming for hours. None of my words bring comfort to him, nothing I do gives him peace, this isn’t easy, this is autism. I know their words are meant as comfort, but my mind races to Owen as I held him in my arms kicking and screaming, having no words to tell me why he was so upset.

I hear his laughter echoing in the background now and I think how different those moments are. Maybe this is the easy part. Maybe this is supposed to make the other times easier. He’s five, he should have more delight than anguish. He shouldn’t have to go through the pain that he goes through. I shouldn’t have to watch him suffer.

My heart bled a little more than normal that night. I was already exhausted from one too many nights of being up, I wanted to go to bed myself. I needed him to find peace so I could. I don’t get down time, I have to be on my game every single minute of the day. And through all of this I felt selfish for wanting him to go to sleep that night. I needed the sleep. I got mad at myself for wanting and needing sleep. I got mad at myself for wanting a normal night with my child. A normal night of sleep. I got mad for not allowing myself to grieve. This is my son, my beautiful, amazing, love of my life son, but I asked for a normal night. I got more mad at myself for having those feelings, for not just accepting who we both are and moving forward.

The mystery of autism sits with me constantly. I can’t seem to get away from the thoughts about it for even a second. I don’t want other families to feel like they are alone. I don’t want them having to go through these moments of struggle without support. Autism is so different for every single person, yet exactly the same for every family.

As I start back at the beginning, because that is where it always seems to end up, we are back to a day with no poop, second day in a row. My fear of how sleep is going to go tonight keeps me sitting instead of getting Owen ready for bed. His eyes look heavy though, this might be a good sign. Maybe tonight will be…. easy.

Autism wasn’t important to me, until autism was important to me.

Please share your stories about your family. I would love to hear from others on this journey with us.


Please follow me of Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/sweetbabyowen/

Lynn Browder

Written by

I am on a mission to spread autism awareness, compassion, love and understanding. I have a five year old son, Owen who has autism. Love music and comedy.

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