Autistic Inspiration

Several weeks ago, I had a dream one night. I woke up gasping and crying. I was relieved that it was only a dream. It was the middle of the night between 11:00 PM and 2:00 AM. Noah's cry was intensifying over the baby monitor. I wiped my face and staggered into his room. He saw me, grabbed his Pooh and reached for me. Noah has bad dreams, too. People ask me all the time, "How do you know he's having bad dreams if he doesn't talk?" Mother's intuition is my only answer. It's an anxious, scared cry. Like he's begging for the scary things to go away. So, I scoop him up and carry him to my room. At this point, I'm hugging him so tight. He falls asleep before I even walk the ten steps to my bed. So sweet and serene. I lay there. Awake. Anxious. Scared. Panicked. In my dream, my baby was dead. Wonderful, smiling, life saving Noah was dead. He lay there in his tiny white, shiny coffin. I will never get that image out of my head. There is no greater fear ...

First of all, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who read my first blog. I appreciate all the likes, sweet comments, shares, and conversations about my sweet boy. The outpouring of love and support is truly heartwarming and we all need a little encouragement sometimes. I feel like the Grinch. My heart has grown two sizes! It's amazing how much you can learn about someone's heart with a little blog about a sweet, Winnie the Pooh loving little man. Secondly, many people have said that Noah is so lucky to have a family like us. Or how lucky he is to have a mother like me. That's one of the sweetest things I've ever been told. And to each of you that said that, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart. But, I have to disagree. Not because I think Noah is unlucky to have a mother like me or a family like ours but because I am definitely the lucky one in this situation. Noah doesn't care if I burn the cookies. He is unaffected if he doesn't have the lates...

This is the story of life's purpose. My reason for being on this planet. Thanks for the read... Noah was a beautiful baby. When the nurse handed him to me, he looked at me as if he'd known me for years. His look of familiarity was comforting. A rush of feelings and blood fled through me. Here I was, 23, and a mother. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. And all those people who said it would come naturally were right to an extent. It took a little time for this motherhood thing to "come naturally." August 19, 2010 at 5:24 PM my station in life was now different. I was responsible for this little wrinkled dude named Noah.  Fast forward approximately eighteen months. Life was different now. I'd moved back in with my parents for reasons I won't bore you with. I was separated from my husband for reasons I won't rehash. I had a new job that I was settling into nicely. Noah and I were recovering from all the changes. And I thought we were doing gr...