A Letter To My Son in the Hours Before His Autism Diagnosis

Baby Boy,
I love you so very, very much-- all the way from your blond curls on down to your sweet midget toes. Please know that today and every other day that has passed or will come to pass... you are perfect just the way you are.

Today we are going to a clinic. In that clinic some people will play with you and talk to me. At some point, someone will tell me "Your son has autism" and I will probably cry. Baby boy, please know I am not crying because you are broken. I am not disappointed in you.

I am crying because autism makes your life more challenging in some ways, just as it makes my life more challenging in some ways. I didn't want anything to be hard for you, but because of autism some things will be. I am sad that autism happened to you, that anything hard happened to you. But I am not crying because of you.

Baby boy, you are not different today than you were yesterday. The only thing that that will change when the people in the clinic say this is autism is that we will have a language to understand you and explain you. The word autism simply gives the grown ups a label that we understand and we will use it to find ways to help.

Baby boy, I do not love you less today because you have this new label. I do not love you less because you are autistic. I will never love you less because you have autism. You are perfect to me, you are the child that God intended you to be, and you do not have to be fixed to be loved or valued. I would not trade you in for another child, I would not start over, I would not give up a moment of my life with you. You are my sweet child and I will always love you and will always be so thankful for you.

This new label does not define you. Autism is a part of who you are, a part of our family, and we are in this together. Baby boy, never forget that you are more than autism. You are a bright, inquisitive child. You are an old soul, with wise and kind eyes. You have a tender heart and a fascination with trucks and sirens. Autism doesn't change any of this.

When you get older, you are allowed to think autism is unfair. You are allowed to cry about it. And when you do, I will hold you and whisper encouragement in your ear. Then I will have you look at your reflection and describe the beautiful soul I have the honor of calling my son. We will think of ways that autism has changed our lives for the better. We will think of ways we can use autism to change other people's lives for the better. We will talk about the other labels we can use to define you, and how when they are all put together they make a unique and beautiful creation.

A beautiful and perfect creation in my eyes and God's eyes. You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.

Momma