The next three days of entries are dedicated to my children. I could dedicate every day to writing about how I am grateful for them, and the different ways in which I find myself thankful. But today, I'll start with the little boy who first called me "mama."
Dear Felix,
I am thankful for you. When I found out I was going to be your mother I was not ready. My love for you made me ready. This may never be within the scope of your thought life but if it ever is, know that just because you were not planned doesn't mean you were not wanted. You chose me, and I chose you.
Before I met you, life was about easy ways out. I remember letting the door close behind me at the abortion clinic after walking through a small crowd of men holding signs. One man walked up to me and quietly said, "you don't have to do this." I looked at him and replied, "yes I do. You don't understand." Your daddy was walking behind me and told me he would support whatever decision I made. He had to sit in the waiting room and couldn't come back into the clinic area with me.
During the ultrasound the screen was turned away. I asked the technician if you looked like a baby or looked like a blob. She asked if I wanted to see, turned the monitor and that is where I saw you for the first time. You were indeed already a baby. I was much further along that I thought. Instantly, I fell for you. I asked her to print the very first picture of you and walked out of the same steel door I had entered minutes prior.
I walked up to your daddy and said, "you can stay or you can go. But I'm having a baby." I showed him your picture and he held it a long time. He told me later how relieved he was.
I was afraid. But I was in love. With you and with your dad. When you were born I called you the other half of my soul. I adored you more and more each day and my heart was full. You got blonder and chubbier. I watched you roll over, I watched you learn to walk. I listened to you sit on the couch and say "mama," then clap for yourself.
You taught me to love in unimaginable ways. When you stopped wanting to play with me. When you began to line up your toys and organize them by size and color instead of use your imagination. When you stopped eating any food that was not dry or crunchy. When you looked distressed the day the DVD player wouldn't play your favorite SpongeBob episode. The day the veil of denial was stripped away and you sat in your high chair, I will never forget: I said "Felix look at mama. Felix, look at me. Look over here. Look a mama." I turned your chin and watched your eyes dart to the corner of the room. Felix, I will not lie and tell you my heart didn't shatter. Not because you were any different than you should be or because you disappointed me in any way. It shattered because selfishly I had a preconceived notion of how you were going to be and what our life would be like together. Autism is what you have, and in many ways it shapes what you do. But you were the same precious miracle before that you were after your diagnosis. You are amazing. You are loved.
And you are now an adolescent. I wonder how much you understand but I'm thankful that when I ask you for a hug you respond by leaning into me. I'm thankful for the day I watched you eat a green bean, after months of nutrition therapy. I'm thankful that before you lost all your speech, you told me you loved me once. I'm thankful that you're tall and look like your daddy. I'm thankful for your laugh. I'm thankful that you are adaptable and healthy and gentle. I'm thankful that you're clever enough to pretend you don't know where your shoes are when you don't want to leave, but know exactly how to climb to the top of the fridge in the middle of the night to get the snacks on top. I'm thankful that you don't care what people think of you and you're innocently encapsulated from peer pressure. I'm thankful that you notice when I change my hair and come up and touch it before walking away. I'm thankful that your love is pure and that you can size up who you like an who you don't in a single instant. I love every part of you. And I'm thankful for you.
Love,
Mama
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