shining star

is it worth examining the past when it doesn't change the present?
when i sat in the doctor's office that day, my heart in my stomach, he said, "he is the same kid he was before you came in."

true.

but is he the same kid he would've been? i look at the baby he was, photos i have where he is looking me straight in the eye, with those piercing, saucer brown eyes. he pointed, he clapped and cooed. he was social, he was interactive and engaging. that baby is now a little boy. still bright, happy, flirty and though now i often ask him to, he still looks me in the eye with those soulful brown eyes while he kills me with his tenderness. he melts my heart each time he places his hand on my cheek as we lie side by side, face to face recounting his day before he drifts off to sleep. he also, lines up his trains and cars, obsesses over fans, spins anything he can, demands routine, memorizes everything, is socially more like a 3-year old than a 4-year old, slips into a strange space-time continuum, monologues in a way that, though not 'typical' of his peer-group, is pretty damn fascinating once you decode his source.

seeing my little dude in social settings takes me back to grade school recess. the days when i was learning to jump rope, the school yard kind. i remember how my heart picked up as i watched the rope go round and round as the girls chanted, "cinder-rella, dressed in yella, went upstairs to kiss a fella...." and i watched the rhythm of the rope each time it hit the pavement, knowing i'd better jump soon or the kids would get frustrated with me, i'd get passed, and eventually left out...so i watched and went... somehow recognizing the moment that it was right to jump in.

when i watch my little dude with his peer group... i see the same look in his eyes that i had in mine. he's watching, waiting, for the moment when it is right to jump in, yet as much as he wants to, he misses the moment. i keep watching and waiting for him to do it. silently cheering you can do it little guy...you can do it...jump baby jump.

i devour books, articles anything i can related to ASD. i covet therapies i cannot afford. i cry over the time i cannot spend, it keeps me awake at night. i curse single-motherhood and the need to work work work, but not at the job i really want - the job i have as his mama. the one where i spend all the recommended hours with him. instead i seek more energy and then pray for complete quiet when i finally fall into bed.

many theories out there...i suppose there needs to be given that there are many many expressions of this spectrum, what works for one, doesn't work for another. immunizations or heredity or both? the line is blurred for me. and neither side rests peacefully in my soul. the immunization argument makes me feel out-of-control and desperate to reverse that day, the day he got that shot. i'm angry i dismissed the emerging evidence at the time... trusting my pediatrician. the timing seems to make sense...or is that just me...in my head...?

most studies show that signs often can't be seen before age 2 making it a bit of the chicken or the egg. hereditary offers no solace either. that just makes me feel angry at myself, for things i could've controlled...like choosing a mate who didn't have his own disorders, as well as wonder what part is due to me, my own nuances i recognize, now heightened in his experience of them.

the line between the two has faded for me, like a scar, it's still there, and at times still sensitive, yet more often then not, i can see through it. theory fades and beliefs emerge. the belief that some things are greater than us, unknown to us and, as they should be. and that a single moment no matter where it happened, at the dr. office or before entering this world, seems small and irrelevant.

my dear dear faraway friend little monkies said, "children are born to the right parent -- he is supposed to be your kid B, i really believe that, you were meant to be his mother". i choke up hearing her words in my head. those words also give me strength and leave me feeling special and lucky. fortunate to have this incredibly unique, hard-working, sweet, sweet boy.

though i thought i'd felt it before, i didn't, not until him. that feeling that you could just die, you love someone so much, so much it hurts. i do believe we were meant to be, for better or for worse. the universe sent me this little star and man, does this star shine.

-honey you are my shining star, don't you go away... oh baby
wanna be right here where you are til my dyin' day-