By DY
We are having a bad bad night. I can’t breathe, my heart is broken and my faith is being tested.
Max became aggressive while I was at work, attacking his dad. He bit him on the left wrist and pinched him. I cannot go through this again. What the hell did my son, your son, your daughter do to deserve this? We had dreams, we had hopes for them, but no, this damn neurological condition took all of that away.
I just want to scream at someone. I want someone to hear my pain, see my tears and tell me how they are going to help our children. Can no one see what is happening? That 5% of our NJ boys now have autism? Why are our children ignored? Their lives do not matter??!
I dare anyone to walk three steps in our shoes, and they will realize how it feels to be knocked down on your knees on a daily basis, fearing for your son, your spouse, yourself, wondering why this is happening, why he, why we, are being punished.
I don’t know how to mend my broken heart. Max just turned 18, but with no sense of celebration. For me, his adulthood brings great fear and panic. The other night I watched him at 1am pacing back and forth, back and forth, listening over and over to “Let It Snow," and I can only hope and pray that the next chapter of adulthood and autism is an easier journey. One that is filled with more smiles, accomplishments and positive memories than tears, heartache and pain.
Now we are at the park in the dark. He is playing with rocks as if nothing happened. I am sobbing sitting at the picnic table because I just want so much better for my son than I can give him.
Yes I love him unconditionally, but if someone said to me, “If you give him up to this family, he will not be autistic and will be healthy and happy, but he won’t remember you. However you would remember everything about him." I would give him one last kiss and turn him over. That is how much I want a better life for Max.
DY is the mother of an 18 year-old young man with severe autism. She and her family live in New Jersey.