Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Marching to a Different Beat---My Son has Aspergers
I am feeling the angst of a Mother who needs to vent. My mind is racing with thoughts of living with and raising a 26 year old Son who has been diagnosed with Aspergers.
The horrific shooting in CT., and the news reports about the shooter, having Aspergers, has had a profound effect on me. I cannot stop the thoughts racing through my mind about my own Son, Michael. I am not using my Sons real name, out of protection for him. He has struggled enough in his 26 years that to cause attention to him could possibly be damaging to his already fragile sense of self.
Where do I begin, to tell the story of my Son and his struggle from birth until now?
Actually, Michael's struggle begin before birth, in my womb. My pregnancy was uncomfortable from the beginning, unlike my first pregnancy with Michael's older brother, 4 years prior. The later part of my pregnancy, I often felt a scratching against my uterus. It was worse at night, and often made for a restless sleep.
At 2 weeks, the crying began, and it didn't end for 2 years. The longest case of colic on record, or so I thought. I had nursed my first Son for much longer than most, and for both he and I, it was a wonderful bonding experience, and so, I expected to have that same wonderful feeling of closeness with Michael. Not so! From the beginning
The horrific shooting in CT., and the news reports about the shooter, having Aspergers, has had a profound effect on me. I cannot stop the thoughts racing through my mind about my own Son, Michael. I am not using my Sons real name, out of protection for him. He has struggled enough in his 26 years that to cause attention to him could possibly be damaging to his already fragile sense of self.
Where do I begin, to tell the story of my Son and his struggle from birth until now?
Actually, Michael's struggle begin before birth, in my womb. My pregnancy was uncomfortable from the beginning, unlike my first pregnancy with Michael's older brother, 4 years prior. The later part of my pregnancy, I often felt a scratching against my uterus. It was worse at night, and often made for a restless sleep.
At 2 weeks, the crying began, and it didn't end for 2 years. The longest case of colic on record, or so I thought. I had nursed my first Son for much longer than most, and for both he and I, it was a wonderful bonding experience, and so, I expected to have that same wonderful feeling of closeness with Michael. Not so! From the beginning
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