Raising Pinocchio

Tales on raising a child with autism and the kismet of living in semi-rural suburbia.

Friday, August 27, 2010

I have not written for, oh, almost 4 years now. Having 3 children does that to a person.

I recently wrote a "poem" of sorts ... normally my poetry rhymes, but this one does not. This poem was about how it feels to have a child with autism. There are good days and bad days ... and on those days, good times and bad times ... few days are all bad, but none are ever all good. At least not with our brand of autism.

Anyway, so, my friend very kindly posted my poem on her blog. Unbelievably enough, within 24 hours of her posting it (she honestly stated in her blog that she did not author my poem), she was asked by a certain agency for permission to publish the poem. My friend thoughtfully related the info to me, and so now I feel the need to repost the poem on my own blog ... since I am, in fact, the author. I didn't know if anyone would like it, which is why I haven't written it online before. I figured that if least 2 people would like it, then maybe more would, too.

So, here it is ... raw and honest, because that's just the way I roll.

My Child Has Autism …

My child has autism … and I, as his mother, have never felt so isolated in my life.

My son has severe speech delays. This is why he doesn't talk to you.
Why don't you speak to him?

My son perceives the world in a unique manner. This is why he plays with toys in an abnormal way.
Why don't you play with him?

My son has difficulty understanding social cues. This is why he avoids eye contact.

Why do you stare at him like he's an animal in a zoo?

… Or even worse, ignore him, as if he's not a human being.

Being his mother does not make me a saint, though sometimes I feel like a martyr.
His condition does not mean that God entrusted me with a special blessing. Autism means he was born with a formidable glitch in his hardware … a glitch I wish daily that I could fix.

The blessing I receive is when people invite us to events – even when we're unable to attend and they know this ahead of time.

I feel blessed when people ask how my son is doing – even when I have no good news to relate and this is evident by my countenance and bearing.

I may not be able to get together with you, whether because I feel beaten down by this neurological demon on that plagues my dear child or simply because of time constraints … but please don't stop reaching out to me! Sometimes just knowing you're there is exactly the lifeline I need to get me through the day.

I may not always participate in idle chatter, whether because I'm dwelling on my child's very real and significant challenges or simply because I'm tired … but please don't stop talking to me! Sometimes I need to be reminded that a world exists outside of autism.

My child has autism … and I, as his mother, have never felt so isolated in my life.

And I need you.


Blogger K- floortime lite mama said...

I heart you Kellie

10:44 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I heart you too...and I love love LOVE that your blog is getting some action.

4:58 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

As you can expect, tears welled up while reading your innermost feelings. I hope your writing opens the eyes of those who do not know what autism is.
As your Mom, I'm immensely proud of you always...even on the bad days.
- Mom

8:21 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Love it! Every line is true - and works for us full time dads too.

11:11 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Please have your lovely child tested for heavy metals...chelation and ridding the body of metals have helped children diagnosed with autism.

God bless

11:27 AM  

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