Rose’s Ruminations: Autism Awareness Month and My Journey of Gratitude

April 25, 2019 | Abrams Nation

As we honor Autism Awareness Month during April, so many thoughts come to mind about this journey I never imagined I would be on. Over the years, the overwhelming fear and uncertainty have been replaced by gratitude. That’s not to say that I don’t still have fears about Abram’s future or experience days more difficult than I feel equipped to handle, but I’ve experienced a shift in the way I think about autism. I’ve reached a place of gratitude, for how our journey with autism has been better than I feared initially and for how this journey continues to make me a better parent and person.

I Learned to Not Take Anything for Granted

When I was a first-time mom with my older son, there were so many milestones I took for granted. From eating and sleeping to talking and potty training, I was confident that we would reach each milestone and fall into a comfortable routine. Raising Abram has certainly been more challenging. I realized sleep is a gift and that not every parent will have the freedom to sleep without constant fear for their child’s safety. I learned how to fight for simple and routine things and appreciate every achievement, regardless of when or how it arrives. With Abram, I grieved the milestones that I thought would never come. I envisioned a tear jar, where I stored away the crushing emotion that I couldn’t let him see. It was a long time before I heard Abram speak a seemingly simple phrase: “I love you.” How many times had I taken that phrase for granted from other loved ones? Now when I hear it, my tear jar empties and I am renewed every single time.

I Learned How to be Patient

 No one who knows me will describe me as patient, but I have my moments now. I used to pray for patience. Then God gave me Abram. I learned that patience isn’t something that I would find or be given; I am driven by my intense love for my children to work and create patience. It’s an action, not a feeling, and it takes work. I realized that Abram’s meltdowns are intensified by me, by infusing my own frustration and aggravation into the situation. I learned very quickly that I can’t fake calmness or mask my emotions; Abram can feel the energy I release and will feed off of it, so my calmness has to come from the inside. I center myself by visualizing a cool, crisp, serene and slowly moving river that allows me to let everything go. If we’re late, we’re late. If we miss an appointment, we’ll make another one. I learned how to focus on what is important and what I can control in the situation. When I stopped getting angry at Abram’s meltdowns and, I’ll admit, at him, everything improved. I learned that my patience led to less intense meltdowns and that we could often head them off with happy distractions. I had to own my emotions and actions and become a better parent for him. Despite my prayers, best intentions and love for my husband and children, no one but Abram could have taught me how to change.

I Learned the Power of Hope

 Very early on, Abram’s pediatrician made a simple statement: “It gets better.” I didn’t believe her, but I really needed it to get better so I had to at least have hope. It’s hard enough parenting a two- or three-year-old, and it’s exponentially harder when there is a diagnosis involved. Many years later, I’m grateful that I can attest to that power of hope and share it with other parents. My “better” may look different than yours, but there is a better. With time, you really get to know your child and their needs, you develop a bigger and stronger support system, and you realize what’s important and how to focus your physical and emotional energy on those things. I share my hope that every parent reaches a point where they can find the positive in each situation and celebrate every achievement, large and small.

For me, Autism Awareness Month is a time of reflection and renewed strength. I am grateful to Abram for teaching me how to be a better parent for each of my children and for how to truly appreciate the simple and routine. With a little patience and a lot of hope, we can navigate this journey. It gets better.