I’ve always felt that even in our darkest of times that we are not alone. But, I never had someone tell me that because I kept the hardest of times to myself and didn’t think there was anyone out there who could understand. If only I had realized all this time what I’m hoping for those of you reading this now to see that… just because our stories might not be the same doesn't mean there isn't someone out there who can relate in some way to what you may be experiencing or how you are feeling.
I wish, oh how I wish, someone would have once told me "you are not alone" when I didn't know I needed to hear it yet needed to hear it the most.
It might seem like a self-serving thing to put my stories out there. But I promise, while a part of me might be doing this for myself - this is not just because I have bottled up things to say and experiences I hope can connect with others.
I’m also doing this for my kids.
And for all of you.
It’s a weird thing to be putting your life stories, your experiences and your deepest of thoughts out into the world – unsure of who may be reading them. If, anyone.
But, it’s become important for me to do so for a promise I made to my 5-year-old son, Crosby.
A few months ago, there was this night when Crosby was laying in my arms and as we were staring into each others’ dark brown eyes – I softly whispered to him “I love you. For you, I will.”
It was my promise to him to do the things in this lifetime that he may never be able to do.
This night came after a really hard day, with his frustrations at an all-time high, and it made for an emotional night. I couldn’t understand why he was upset, so all I knew to do, as his Mom, was hold him in my arms. As I tried to calm him, and understand what he was trying to say through our deep connection, I couldn’t figure it out. I didn’t know if he was hurting, if he felt sick, if something scared him… he couldn’t tell me.
You see, Crosby is (what can easily be described as yet not our preferred way of explaining) "non-verbal" and was given an Autism diagnosis at 2 ½ years old. When someone gives your kiddo an ASD diagnosis, there’s no manual that comes along with it of how to navigate this new world. I think, of all the times I’ve ever felt lost in life… I don’t know if anything quite compared to that moment. There’s so much to say about that day and that time in life, but that’s not for now.
Having my big baby boy laying in my arms, unable to understand his needs in that moment, was one of the most challenging moments of my life. Because, even without words, I’m supposed to understand.
That night, was just a really rough night.
As he was laying in my arms, upset and uncontrollable emotionally… my mind started to go to a place I most certainly don’t like to visit. The future.
I started thinking about all the things he maybe won’t be able to do one day. I started thinking about the fact that he might not be able to ever tie his shoe, he might not ever be able to drive a car, he may never be able to live alone, he might not ever travel by himself, he may never have any real friends who choose him for who he is and he chooses them, he may never sing for others to hear, he might never write his name with a pencil, he may never find someone to love him for who he is or want to dance with him because they genuinely want to dance with him and one of the most heartbreaking of all that - I may never hear him say “I love you, Mom….”
I think you get my point.
And I broke down crying.
To think of the future too far in advance is beyond overwhelming.
I believe with every ounce of my being that he can and will do these things one day. Because my son is capable of more than I even know.
But, in that moment of him lying in my arms with tears pouring out of me, I thought…
In case one day he cannot, I have found a greater purpose and mission in this lifetime to do all the things – not just what he might never be able to, but to do those same things I’ve somehow limited myself to thinking I couldn’t do along my own journey. And I can no longer be the Mom who convinces herself she CAN’T do something because I’m just in my own head when I don’t know if my son ever actually can.
I will say that in all of these emotions and fears, I know how lucky we are. I went through so much to have my two beautiful boys. Crosby and Wylder are both rainbow babies, miracles and my greatest gifts. And even in the hard of what we struggle with, I have so much gratitude because I’ve seen so many others fighting tougher battles. So, I’m very grateful. I’m grateful I woke up today and I get to snuggle my babies tonight as I sit here writing this. Please know that none of this is about my hard vs your hard… it’s just pieces of my story I’m sharing and honoring the promise I made to my oldest son – which is the reason you’re reading this.
That night, as Crosby struggled, I held him and my tears rolled onto his forehead. I whispered to him and said, “I love you. For you, I will.”
It’s a promise my husband didn’t even know of until now, if he happens to read this. It’s a promise I made only to Crosby and no one else, not even myself. I’m notorious for putting everyone and everything else first, leaving nothing for me. But even now, this need to write and put all of these bottled up things inside of me out into the world – while the need within my soul is for me, the reality of actually doing it is for him.
Because I want Crosby to know that he has a momma who will never give up on him. He has a momma who will always fight for him, with him, next to him. He has a momma who will fight for all the other kiddos who aren’t given the chance to show that they’re made of so much more than the world has limited them to. He has a momma who will fight for all of you reading this, for you to know that who you are is who you’re meant to be – even if you got a little lost along the way, who you are is always there within you. I want Crosby to know – he has a momma who will show up every day, and whose promise actually means something.
It really doesn’t matter who any of this is for, I guess. Maybe it’s for me. Maybe it’s for you reading this. Maybe it’s for my two boys. But what it is, is something greater than anything inside of me. Something greater than all the insecurities and fears that I have within me that has stopped me for so long from doing what I’ve felt a calling to do but didn’t because nothing was bigger than those doubts.
Until now.
My own fears to put my words out there into the world don’t even compare to this promise I made to my son:
Crosby Royce...
I believe there are no limits to anything you can do in this lifetime. But, I know this world and it will try to put limits on you. I would never, ever change you for this world. But my boy, I promise you, I will try my hardest to change this world for you and create a world in which you, being the beautiful soul that you are, matters. Because this world needs your light… And until you can do all these things on your own – For you, I will. And it starts right here. Until you can, for you… I will finally speak.
Love, Momma