Monday, April 2, 2012

A Letter to my Son with Autism

Dear Danny,
            The first time I really saw you, you were nestled contentedly against my chest, hours old. Your perfection and beauty blew me away; you were a very special gift. When I leaned down and smelled your downy hair, I knew nothing of autism or the ups and downs that we would experience together. All I knew was that I wanted to be the best mother that I could be for you.  
            In the five and half years we’ve spent together, Danny, I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard to be a good mom and give you a full and joyful life, despite your autism. After you were diagnosed, I was so sad and overwhelmed, I’m sometimes afraid that I did not spring into action quick enough or fight hard enough for you. But, I did my best and I’m learning to accept that I did what I could. But you, my sweet Danny-Boy, you have given me so much in your short, little life. You have taught me patience. You have taught me how to advocate. You have taught me perseverance. I have watched you struggle to learn simple things, things that most children quickly and easily pick up, things that most people take for granted. You never gave up, though and so I never gave up on you. You have also taught me how to find joy in the simple things. The way your face lights up when you are outside or when you find that perfect piece of string to flip has shown me that sometimes the simplest pleasures are the best ones. You have taught me humility. You, my boy, are a delicious mystery and in order for me to even begin to solve it; I had to forget everything I thought I knew about life. Danny, you and your brothers have molded me into the woman I am today and for that I am so grateful.
            I am so proud of you, son. I don’t think I tell you that enough and sometimes I really don’t even think to tell you but I am proud. You struggled for almost five years with no way to communicate and yet you never gave up. And now, I hear you speaking, saying “mama,” “juice,” “chip” and it is such a miracle. Thank you, Danny, for giving me those words. You work so hard and, for the most part, you never resent me, your teachers, or your therapists for pushing you. Also, I know that you are sensitive to sounds and I am so proud of the way you handle it now. Instead of screaming or being aggressive, you’ve learned to cope, with your little hands over your ears and a patient look on your face. Finally, I am proud of  the delight you have brought to so many people; me, your daddy, your brothers, your grandparents, and teachers. Your sweet smile and joyful presence is such a gift and I am so, so proud of you, simply for being who you are.
            I’m not going to lie to you, Danny; I never wanted a child with autism. And sometimes, I look at you and my heart still hurts a little. I don’t want to watch you struggle and I don’t know what the future holds for us and it scares me a little. But, above all, you are a precious gift, a blessing. None of us, not your brothers, me or your dad, your teachers, would be the same without you. You have given me so much and, Danny, I promise you that I will work for the rest of my life to give it all back to you.

Love you,
Mama
Alicia Ballard-Westbrook