What Creeps In Wednesday
Our autism journey

The constant river of emotions is almost as unbearable as the emotions themselves. Someone asked me if yesterday was a better day, as they stared at my un-crying face. I said that my day was fine, the only difference I wasn’t crying. My face tells my story. Some days I wonder if I’ve even accepted autism yet. Two years in and I wonder myself if I can even believe we are faced with autism. I think sometimes it is the loneliness I feel, the feeling of defeat as I can’t figure out how to help my baby, and the moments of echoing silence as I repeat questions to Owen knowing he can’t answer. He shows me his love, he hugged me and he turned his head to smile back at me as he walked away. I feel bad crying once again. I listened intently as he told me a story. He walked up to me and not one of his words were clear, but I realized to him they were. I listened even harder and realized that he said the exact same “words” for a character on the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, this gave me more hope. Owen listens to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in more languages than I can even imagine. I don’t know if these words are another language or the way Owen hears and pronounces them. It gives me hope. The moments when he drifts in and out of his own world, staring into his own mind, not being able to look at me, or even concentrate on my words are the hardest. I repeat his name over and over again, waiting for a sign that he has come back to me. Those times don’t seem to happen as much as they used to, but I wonder what he is escaping from or why he is retreating. I keep telling myself stay strong, but sadness washes over me a little more. I get made at the stages of grief theory, because I think I’m on the twenty-third round of all the stages. Today, I push forward, today, I dream of the hope, today, I dream of tomorrow, and the big picture. Never give up, keep floating until you can swim. Make today matter. Smiles to all and donut daze!

