The beauty, the strength, the worry, the laughter, the tears, and so much more. There are so many things that go along with autism. I can remember substituting in a classroom for special needs children. I felt so nervous when I walked in that room the first time. 

Can I do this? Gosh, will I be able to help? I knew a few things, but I felt underprepared. There were two other teachers in the room, so I watched what they did the first few times so I knew what to do. By the end of the day, I felt more comfortable. These were kids! It didn't matter to me what they had, they just required a different level of care. I won't lie and tell you I wasn't exhausted that first day, or the second and third. It's no easy task making sure that a sweet little girl doesn't twirl into the wall. Or if one of the kids didn't want the lights on, but figuring out why he's upset takes much longer than he would like. 

Around the same time that I was substituting, our son had gone into kindergarten. It was very apparent that he was struggling early on. The teachers, the pediatricians, they were all noticing certain things. My momma heart ached when I heard each one agree on what was going on with him and their suspicions. 

He would write letters backwards when he wrote his sight words. His sense of danger often took a hike. The energy was not to be contained. He was always a wiggly little boy that hit the ground running before the rooster crowed. Slowing him down was a task. He loved to be outside working with his dad and Poppy, then run inside and help while his Meme and I cooked in the kitchen. He was quick to jump from one thing or another. His big sister often thought she could wrangle him and teach him all of the things that she had learned. He would sweetly listen for a few minutes, then she would be trying to convince him to stay.  

When doing sight words, he struggled to remember them. When he wrote the words, often letters would be backwards. The list grew and so did our fears. Our specialist visit was scheduled and we worried ourselves over the chances of him being diagnosed with autism. The weight of it all was crushing. Our little boy could very well be in one of those classrooms at some point. I wasn't sure what to feel. The questions ran through our minds. We were afraid, fearful of the outcomes. It was so much information that my head felt like it could pop. 

The memories of that whole process roll through my mind when I watch him now. At nearly fourteen, he has worked so hard to be where he is. He has really had to put effort into things that come easy to some. That first specialist visit was so scary. We felt so many emotions when we walked through the doors of the building with the black glass. I still picture it and our last visit was five years ago. It was a place of revelation, smiles, tears, worry, and most of all answers.

The first time signing in, I noticed some toys that I was familiar with from the classroom. I thought about it and pictured the kids that I had worked with. I thought about how many parents have sat in the same seats that we were in.  My son was happy and healthy. My love for him would be the same no matter the outcome. I wanted to know how to help him and the diagnosis was an answer to his care. It was important. I wanted to learn. I needed to. He relied on our strength to take care of him. He needed our support. 

Sometimes I fell apart though. I would call my mother-in-law crying because I felt like I wasn't enough. I wanted to give my son all of the things he could possibly need, but felt like I fell short. She reminded me that he was such a happy little boy and that we were doing our best. I know her heart ached for us too, but she let me cry. Her consistent words of encouragement guided me when I felt lost. She has been a blessing to my soul. 

We finally found out that Logan had sensory processing disorder, attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, dyslexia, and a speech impairment. He got an IEP at school and we began occupational therapy. We have all struggled along the way. I have had to learn to be more patient, understand that he doesn't learn the same way as my daughter does. Realize that the way he learns is very unique to him, and that has taught me so much more than I could have predicted. He humbled me. I knew what I read, but sometimes didn't comprehend what it was that Logan needed. He taught me how to look at things from a different perspective. I found that we have more similarities in things than I thought. Some of his struggles were similar to his dad and I. It was interesting the plans that God has for us. The lessons that I've learned without knowing it's value at the time. 

I know that I can never fully understand what a parent is going through with a child that has autism, but I see your hard work. I understand if you seem frazzled when your child does something unexpected. The amount of things that go along with autism can vary. We could all do our part in learning more about it. Teach your children that being different isn't always a bad thing. Beauty can be found in unexpected ways. Please spread awareness for autism.