This ain't Holland.

I had to subtitle the blog this. If you've ever had a special needs child, you know what I'm talking about. This dreaded poem. Don't ever send me this poem and tell me that having a child with autism is "just different".
Ben was diagnosed when he was 23 months old- it was scary, for sure, but I thought we could just get the recommended therapies and all would be well. Four months later, it all hit me like a two ton pile of bricks. Previously his main symptom was developmental delays- things that he did not do- no talking, no pointing, little joint attention. But when the stimming and hand flapping started, I lost it. I brought him to the doctor sobbing asking for help. (To be fair, it was not his regular doc that we saw that day, so to her I'm just a hysterical mother.) She was sweet and kind but she said that having a child with special needs is "just different" and that I needed to look at the bright side- he was healthy. And maybe I should think about taking some meds (for myself!) She ended the visit with saying that there is a poem about raising a special needs child. I already knew about this poem because I have a degree in psychology and had previously worked with families- heck I probably handed it out to some poor unsuspecting mom. I went home that day to google the poem and read it again. The optimist in me felt so much better. I could do different!
Three years later, I'm pretty sure this is nothing like Holland. I still have a good outlook on life. I'm still an optimist. I still believe people are generally good. I still have lots of hope for the future. I still believe my son is awesome in many ways. I adore his quirks and his smile and I love him to the depths of the ocean and up to the moon just the same as I do my other two children. But mothering a child with autism is 5 billion times harder than raising a child with no autism. It is not just different, it is really really hard.