Not My Baby

When the diagnosis came out of the doctor’s mouth, I felt like he had kicked me in the stomach. All of the dreams and hopes I had for my son, Jackson, seemed to die when I heard, Pervasive Developmental Disorder. The doctor went on to describe the autism spectrum and where Jackson fit on that spectrum. On the outside I sat quietly and attentively listening to what he had to say, but on the inside I was screaming, “No! Not my baby!”

Nothing had really changed in that moment. Jackson was still Jackson, but it took me a while to remember that.

I went through weeks feeling like it had to be a bad dream. It just couldn’t be real. Every time I looked at him I cried. I remember thinking the doctor had to be wrong. There had to be something I could do. There had to be a cure. I remember searching for answers like I did with his food allergies. Only, the more I searched the more confused and distressed I became. What do we do now? What does this really mean?

Unable to really answer these questions, I found myself focusing finally on what this diagnosis didn’t mean. As hard as it was to face, there were no cancer cells eating away at his little body. I would not have to watch helplessly while some disease slowly took him away from me. There were certainly scarier things to face than autism. I was finally able to accept what I heard in the doctor’s office that day, and with acceptance came hope.

I began to see his diagnosis as a blessing, an opportunity to learn and grow. Through this precious little boy, I’m learning what it really means to love someone selflessly, what it is to persevere through difficulty, and that life truly is a gift. He is my angel, my tiny window into the heart God.

I know my God doesn’t make mistakes. I believe now more than ever the things we see as imperfections here on earth will look very different when we finally see our lives from heaven’s perspective.

My son has autism, and I’m so glad he’s mine!