Distraught Mother In The Corner, It's Not Your Fault

Today I went out with another special needs mom. She's a veteran, with two sons on the Autism Spectrum, and we haven't seen each other in a while. We picked our favorite lunch spot, right smack in the middle of our respective homes and districts in the event one of us gets a phone call from the school and we have to run. For me, it's always great to get out and speak with a grown person. Not to mention a treat to eat a meal not interrupted by tantrums or outbursts. I can do this more often now because my children are older and attend school full-time.

But to our left, a familiar scene unfolded, as I noticed a younger pretty lady, trying to console a small boy. She was desperately trying to soothe him, and picked him up in her arms and rocked him back and forth even though he was not an infant. The crying did not stop and too quickly the screaming and kicking began. A coffee cup went flying and french fries were knocked off the table. Soon his arms were flailing and he was clinging to her in the most desperate way, upset beyond description. People started to stare and whisper, and the young woman became obviously upset herself.  She mustered all the courage she could to lift that precious child and make her way out of the crowded restaurant, tears running down her face.

My friend reached across the table and squeezed my hand tightly. The look in her tired eyes told me what I already knew. Without one word I understood, "That boy has autism...do you remember those days?" And I pushed back my bowl of soup and sat for a moment. We are so well-versed at this point, we are able to sum up and recognize even the highest-functioning child all in a matter of three seconds.

How many times have I wanted to run over to such a woman and embrace her, comfort her, give her my phone number, anything! But like myself of old, they flee quickly from the public eye, feeling distraught and alone, the way I used to be. Other times I have been on line in the supermarket only to have a mother say to me, "I'm so sorry for his behavior...he has autism." What relief on their faces when I tell them I am one of the moms who GET IT.

Distraught Mother in the corner, this is not your fault! I know the nightmare you are living--you have done nothing to make it manifest. You are a good wife and nurturer and your child is blessed to have you. I want to tell you things are going to get better, but only time will tell the extent of your suffering. You will have to work harder at your marriage and cling to God, even when friends seem to abandon you, but you are not alone. You will go on, you have been given a job reserved for saints. You are a warrior.

I know what it's like to cry in the shower, where you hide so no one can hear you. I know what it's like to cry yourself to sleep, night after night, and wonder if your prayers are really heard in the still dark of your bathroom, but this is not your fault. You may never hear the words, but he does, in fact, love you.  Some of your questions will never be answered and you will wonder if the hurt will ever go away...it never completely will, but you will find peace when you are older. No, dear desperate mother, this is not your fault. This much I truly know.

May You Always Recognize The Blessings...