It's Unconditional

It was quite a number of weeks after Liam's diagnosis, when I sat down suddenly in a unusually quiet house and felt the full weight of what had eventuated on my shoulders. I'd devoured as much information as I felt I could possibly retain - felt encouraged, dismayed by some other's notions of what autism meant, and hopeless all at the same time.

Among the pressures I placed on myself (and still do), I felt the obligation to support not only Liam, but my family and retain commitment to my employer.

I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish that He didn’t trust me so much. (Mother Theresa)

And .... although I am far from a Mother Theresa! I feel a similar 'burden' of trust.

What in fact gives me strength is something I read on another literary blog, 'Special Needs Mama'. This site is a favourite and has brought many a smile and tear to my face; It is well worth a visit.

These (special needs) children show us how to open our hearts in ways we never
knew were possible. Perhaps that makes our hearts stronger, braver, or kinder. Or perhaps our hearts are simply, by virtue of being open, wider and more expansive. But inside this wider space we have discovered that amidst the love there is also the heartache, and within the heartache, the joy. The will to live and the will to love.
~
I'm not supposed to wonder who my son would be apart from his disabilities. I'm supposed to see him as a person with disabilities. I'm not supposed to think about who he might be or what I might love about him or how he might tell me he loves me.
But I do. I do because I love him and because he has taught me that inside a wide-open heart, loss is sometimes a part of love.

And so, I am content to remember the happiness among the frustrations and move forward, accepting that my roles of mum/ wife/ friend and colleague are now all 'Not Otherwise Specified'.