Your Child is Different

It's an amazing feeling to have, not just one good day with your child on the spectrum, but to have a string of them. For a few days you find yourself feeling almost normal. You stop walking on eggshells and feeling like everything you say needs to be carefully considered before it comes out of your mouth. You can breathe. You forget for a short time that your child is different... and then it happens; a meltdown. A big fat physically aggressive meltdown; and it's over something minor. It is in that moment that you are thrown back into reality and you remember, "Oh that's right, I have a child on the spectrum!"

Inevitably what follows is a bout of depression. You and your spouse remain nearly silent the rest of the evening. You go through the motions of your normal routine but in your own bubble of emotion. You sit down to eat that ice cream cone but barely taste it. You enjoy sips of wine but they might as well be water. Your child shows you affection, and takes in the joy of a video game he loves, but you aren't really watching. You're sort of staring through the television instead. He's moved on but you, not so much.

Then begins the blame game. It's gotta be your fault. Why else could he have had over a week of great days only to fall back into the pit of despair that seems to envelop him during a meltdown? You're PMSing. That's gotta be it. Your mood was mirrored in his. Or maybe you said something wrong or used the wrong inflection. It's gotta be something you did. Logic has left you at this point and you forget that your child is different... again. You forget that having a child on the spectrum means unpredictability. You forget that none of this is your fault.

You look at him, able to overcome the meltdown and move on with life as if it never happened, and you wonder how he does it. And then, you remember. You remember that he just had an incredible string of great days. You remember how good he did at school and how proud of him you were. You remember that the meltdown was one 15-minute moment amidst hours and hours of positive ones. You remember that it's not your fault and that from behind his eyes, you are the greatest mom in the world (despite what he may have said during the meltdown). You remember that your child is different, and your love for him has not changed. He is different, and he is your world.