Only in Dreams.

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 in a parent than losing a child. Yesterday becomes a distant memory and tomorrow is depressing. I don't want to live in a world where my tomorrow doesn't include Noah. He's the basis for every decision I make. He's every thought in my head. I honestly didn't know what love was before Noah was born. My once hyper, hopping, happy Noah was lifeless. Still. Still is a scary word when it comes to Noah. He's not still often. Only in dreams...

I stand in this big church. I proceed to speak at his funeral. I would never be able to speak at Noah's funeral. I was calm and poised. Which, if you're reading this, you obviously know me. And you know I'm not a calm person. I'm high strung and panicked most of the time. This different version of me stands there speaking of this little boy who did so much for so many. I don't know how he died. And I think that's the hardest part of this dream. There's no resolution. Several people told me that they had dreams about their children dying. It's a hideous view of a future without Noah. No more hugs and kisses. No more waking up to the sweetest tackle ever. No more opening and shutting doors and cabinets and the refrigerator. No more reason.

Noah is happy in his bed. Snoring. Every day that I get to spend with Noah is a day well spent. I will spend the rest of my days with Noah. He's jabbering more and more everyday. And each day, he's closer and closer to talking. I have deep hope that he will talk one day. His therapists feel the same way. All I want to hear is "Mama, I love you." Just one time. I dream of the day when he says it. When your kids are talking your ear off and all you want is some peace and quiet, please do me one favor. Say thank you. People tell me often that when Noah starts talking, he won't shut up. I hope with everything that I am that it's true. There are things that we all take for granted every day. Simple things. There are sweet babies all over the Earth who can't walk. Kids who can't do anything for themselves and require constant care. Parents lose their kids every day and my Noah is still here. His story is not finished being written.

I am on a mission to tell Noah's story and spread happiness through him. He's is everything I've ever wanted and everything I could ever want or need. He's a blank canvas ready to be painted. There are wonderful things in store for him. Greatness. His smile could move mountains. His heart is kind and loving. He senses when you're sad and knows just what to do. He is pure joy. I am better because of him and constantly learn things from him. It baffles me how much he teaches me without a single word. He's a silent teacher and God truly saved me when He put him in my arms. I'll remember that moment until I leave this Earth. He is love in human form...

The Lucky One.

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 latest fashions. He smiles at me just the same whether I've had the worst day or the best day. His unconditional love and affection is never ending and I am undoubtedly the lucky one. I've said before that I thought I'd be doing all the teaching and Noah would be doing all the learning. But, alas I was wrong. And funnily enough, it makes no never mind to Noah that I was wrong in that assumption. He teaches me something about the human condition everyday. And I grow more and more thankful everyday that God placed this tiny human in my care. So, I've decided with this blog that I will further explain why I am the Lucky One. 

Noah has a bond with me that I cannot explain. And if I did have an explanation, it would do no justice for it. He has different bonds with everyone. He'll sit and look at the fish with his nanny for hours. So intrigued. So innocent and curious. He and Nanny will swing and swing and swing singing "Old McDonald Had a Farm." He stacks his pegs with his PawPaw. So meticulously. He'll sit in the crook of PawPaw's arm and watch country music videos. Noah will wrestle in the floor with AJ for days on end. Vigorously. He'll let AJ swing him around for what seems like an eternity. And with me, well let's just say he will lay so still under the covers in my bed and watch the Braves until he can't hold his eyes open any more. He'll bump my fist and watch it explode over and over and over. Giggling the whole time. He has different ways to love all of us. And there's a special place in Heaven for Noah's kind heart.

Noah gives the best hugs. He hugs with his whole body. There's nothing like coming home after a hideous day at work and you walk in the door and you're greeted with a precious smile and a full body hug. His hugs have meaning and warmth as if he's saying, "Mama, I know you've had a tough day, but thanks for coming home because, I'm so glad to see you!" His kisses are the same way. He grabs my face like we're in a Hollywood chick flick! He comes at me with gusto and lays one on me. He often comes into my room when he wakes up and showers his mama with sugars and hugs! The sweetest way to wake up. How can you have a bad day now? I challenge you to try. It's absolutely impossible.

As all of you know, I work in dialysis. It's an early morning start. So I'm usually up and out the door at 3:00 AM. Not the easiest when you're raising a toddler but Noah is more than worth it. By the time Noah is awake, Mama is long gone and working. I have on occasion looked at my phone after a particularly tough morning and PawPaw has text me a sweet picture of Noah sound asleep in my bed. He was not there when I left that morning I'm sure. Nanny assures me that it's comforting to him to be able to smell me and what perfect place to do that but in my bed. How sweet is that?!

Last but not least Noah's love of hand holding. I remember when he was less than six months old. I couldn't wait until we could walk hand in hand. There's nothing like walking down the street and you look down and a sweet little hand has a death grip on yours. It's warm and comforting. He'll walk miles just holding onto me. And every now and then, he'll look up at me and smile. I dread the day when he feels like he doesn't need to hold my hand. Until that day, I'll soak up every step and walk hand in hand with the boy who stole my heart without even trying.

So you see, I am without question the lucky one. Smiles when I'm sad. Hugs when I'm hurt. Kisses when I'm tired. I am forever in debt to this little boy who barely talks. I can't imagine how he'll enrich my life when he starts talking. It will only make life better and more worth it. Noah was not a planned baby. Life happens when you make plans, I've been told. Imagine where we'd be if he had been part of the plan. Regardless, I wouldn't dare change a thing. Everything happens for a reason and I can't wait to see where Noah takes us. I know it will be somewhere worthwhile. And I'm along for every step...

Backstory.

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 great. And we were. Just not everyone else's conventional "great." But, at this point I had no idea. My baby was growing. And growing quite well, we had just gone to the pediatrician for an eighteen month well visit and he was in the 90th percentile for weight and height. But no words. He had been talking; saying a dozen or so words. Dada, mama, tree, duck, egg to name a few. And feeding himself well with utensils. But, shortly after an ear infection and his dad and myself separating all that stopped. It's like the lights shut off. Completely dark. Refusal to speak, refusal to feed himself, refusal to help dress himself. I had no idea all this was that big of a deal. Enter TEIS. Tennessee Early Intervention System is a voluntary educational program for families with children birth through age two with disabilities or developmental delays.

At his evaluation with them, he barely met qualifications at two years for a "normal" child. I use that word "normal" loosely. I sadly have no other term. So, everyone kept saying, "he'll talk when he's ready." Well ready came and went and still no talking. He's nearly 30 months old at this point. We (Nanny, PawPaw, and Mama) were all greatly discouraged and worried. At a doctor's appointment at 30 months that was an accidental scheduling (I believe that was God intervening) because they don't do well visits at two and a half years old. They asked all the questions: Is he feeding himself? No. Is he dressing himself? No. Is he using two word sentences and speaking at least 100 words. Um. No. 

Panic has now set in. What is wrong with my happy, smiley, giggley, affectionate boy? Boys develop slower than girls. Boys talk later than girls. These opinions sound legit. I held onto them for far to long. And there is no measure for the amount of guilt I feel for this. I feel as if I've done an injustice to the person I care most for in the whole world, Noah. A person whose very survival depends on me. It's a huge weight. I know that the outcome would have been no different but it's still there. 

At his next evaluation, about two weeks after that accidental doctor's appointment he qualified for services from TEIS. We started Speech Therapy and Occupational Therapy and a teacher came once a week to work with Noah on various developmental things like coloring, stacking, and motor skills. Without these wonderful people Noah wouldn't be feeding himself with utensils, coloring, or using sign language. It's been an intense six months, but God has put the right people in our lives. 

August 5th he was officially diagnosed with Autism. During his developmental assessment he showed all the red flags: his love of puzzles, spinning in circles, flapping his arms in excitement, fixating on certain things, difficulty transitioning from one activity to another, etc. And that's where the journey begins. Noah's in preschool now and just finished his first week. I refuse to let this diagnosis be viewed as a "setback." I've had people ask me if I could go back and do things differently and Noah not turn out to be Autistic would I do it? No. Noah is Noah no matter what. And I will love him until I take my last breath. He has taught me far more things and any other human being on this Earth. And I highly doubt anyone else that comes along in my life will ever teach me more than Noah has in these last three years. He's is the reason I'm on this earth. We all search for our purpose in life. That's what people do. Whether it be a job or someone's spouse or partner or whatever it may be, I know God's plan for me is to be Noah's mom. He's the best thing that ever happened to me. He's my Autistic Inspiration.