With Mother’s Day around the corner, I have been busy preparing gifts and cards to send off to my absolutely wonderful mother, my grandmother and my mother-in-law. I’ve also been contemplating what I thought “motherhood” would be about before Ethan came into our lives…and, before Autism came into our world. I knew that parenthood would be difficult and fraught with emotion, yet I didn’t fully understand how deeply that emotion would run.
“Making a decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” ~Elizabeth Stone
When our kids are joyful, we revel in the beauty of the world through their eyes; when our children hurt, we feel their pain and desperately wish to wipe it away. When our children hit a brick wall, we do everything in our power to help them knock it down.
“Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible.” ~Marion C. Garretty
In our journey with Autism, I have met countless mothers who astound me in various ways.

The fog surrounding Frisco, Texas this morning directly mirrors the soupy sea of emotion I’ve been swimming through since I heard the news yesterday that Susan Loper, local mother of an 8-year-old boy with an Autism Spectrum Disorder, was found dead. This story is “hitting home” on so many levels. Not only was Susan raising a son with ASD the same age as my son Ethan, but her body was found within miles of our home. With that said, the “hitting home” goes so much deeper for me…
In case you missed the story in the news: Susan was abducted from Gleneagles Country Club where she worked as a fitness and Pilates instructor in neighboring Plano, Texas, early Tuesday morning. When police were notified and began to investigate, they immediately suspected foul play.

Kids tantrum, fuss, squeal, yell, and scream. As a parent, you quickly learn what your tolerance level is.....then you rocket past it by 1,000%. You are able to handle much more than you would expect. Toss some Autism adventures into the mix and you have a real party at times. You talk to yourself, you don't sleep, your child doesn't sleep, you might be married but have no idea when the last time you had a real conversation with your spouse was, and then you have a job. Wait. Yes, that's right, you talk to yourself first.

Having a child with autism is all consuming. You are constantly thinking about their progress, their regressions, their therapies, their perseverations.... their recovery.

Some days it just really pulls on my heartstrings to send Jacob away on the little yellow bus, watching his sweet chubby face through the tinted window as they head down our street and off to school.
You'd think I would be used to it by now- it has been five years of Jacob leaving home for preschool, kindergarten, and now 1st grade. Despite the fact that all these years have gone by, each time it is still like sending an innocent toddler away everyday, out into the big, bad world alone, without me to protect him.

I hurried into the service on Sunday morning, already late but not wanting to miss another moment.
My friend, Trina, stopped me and whispered in my ear "Linda, your hair is going all directions. Just thought you'd want to know!"
She smoothed my hair and I hurried into the already crowded sanctuary looking for a place to sit. Once I located a friend, climbed over 3 or 4 people to the empty seat, asked the teenager next to me if she was saving the seat, and took my seat I finally had a minute to collect myself.