It's 2:00 a.m. I hear a voice across the darkness. "Mommy!" I run to his room. He screeches and screams. He's hysterical. I go through routines until I find the one that is the salve this time. He looks at me and says "bed" - he wants me to stay. I am awake and tired but couldn't be happier. I cuddle my little boy close to me. His chubby hand pats my arm gently. I nuzzle his velvet cheek and breathe in his Johnson and Johnson's hair. For the moment I live the dream I had all those months I carried him. I cradle the little boy I imagined I'd have. For a moment I forget the life we have - therapy, meds, tantrums, hysteria - it all fades into the background as my angel actually welcomes my attention. I feel his foot shift and I will the dream not to end. It shifts again. I know what's coming but I hold onto the moment for as long as I can. A rhythmic pattern emerges. He's stimming. Reality slams into the room like a spotlight being switched on. The screaming starts. I'm no longer welcome. He has returned to his own world. But thank you, God, for my visit with the angel from my dreams tonight. I hold onto the dream praying one day "autism" won't be part of our vocabulary. And I go back to my bed and sleep to gain strength for another day.
Lord, this wasn't the party we hoped for, but we know your ways are higher than our ways and we praise you for the chance to see a beautiful side of life and experience your world through a different perspective. Thank you for the strength to meet this challenge!
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