In a moment of candid observation, my son Alex, who is ten, turned to me one day and said, “Mom, my friend Ethan has autism.” We had just finished picking fresh strawberries, and I glanced at my youngest, who was attempting to see if a berry would fit in his ear, before returning my focus to Alex.
“I understand why you might think that,” I replied thoughtfully. “But Ethan doesn’t have an official diagnosis of autism.”
“Who else has it?” he pressed, his curiosity piqued.
“Many people have autism, Alex,” I explained, searching for the right words. I could have delved into statistics, explaining that one in every 44 children is diagnosed today, which translates to millions of individuals who experience the world in unique and beautiful ways. But I knew that these figures would feel abstract and distant to him.
Instead, I chose to emphasize the positive aspects of autism: his incredible memory, his kindness, his determination, and the progress he has made. Yet, despite my efforts, I could see the loneliness in his eyes, the sense of being the only one in our family, in his class, perhaps even in the world, who has this diagnosis.
It felt akin to telling him, “Alex, you are an extraordinary creature amidst ordinary beings. You are stunning! We know there are countless others like you—indeed, a bajillion—but we are unsure how to connect you with them. And, dear unicorn, we struggle to comprehend your uniqueness. Your vibrant nature fascinates us, but your moments of distress can be overwhelming. Sometimes, it might seem easier if you were just like everyone else.”
When I started my blog, I lacked a clear goal or vision. Over the past two years, I realized that one of my motivations was to combat my own feelings of isolation. From the comfort of my workspace, I could express my challenges, share moments of levity, and connect with others who navigate the complexities of autism, parenting, and the everyday chaos of life. If I could raise awareness about autism in the process, that would be an added benefit.
However, I felt I had not succeeded. While I had built connections with a broader community, my son, the one with autism, still felt confused, anxious, and alone. To address this, I reached out to my followers on social media, asking them to share their experiences and let Alex know he is not alone; that there are countless others who share similar journeys—individuals with passions, talents, and dreams.
The responses were overwhelming. Messages poured in, each filled with encouragement and shared experiences. “Hello, Alex! This is my son, also named Alex. He is eight years old and has autism. While he may struggle socially, he has an incredible ability to light up a room. You are not alone!”
As I read through these messages, I found pieces of Alex in each one. I saw reflections of myself as well. The warmth and support wrapped around us, filling the air with hope. One mother shared about her son, saying, “I have a 14-year-old son with autism. I envisioned playing sports with him, but instead, I cherish his brilliant mind and kindness. My role is to ensure he lives his best life.”
Others reached out from across the country, sharing their children’s stories. “Hi Alex! I have two sons with autism who are twins. One loves swimming and is fascinated by elevators, while the other has a remarkable memory and plays the trombone beautifully.”
Together, we read messages from families around the world, and I watched Alex’s face light up with each new story. “My son is six and doesn’t speak yet, but his smile can brighten any room, just like yours.”
What I learned through this experience is that autism encompasses a broad spectrum, affecting families in different ways. Some families may have multiple children on the spectrum, while others may have only one. “I have two wonderful sons on the spectrum,” one parent shared. “Their autism is just a part of who they are, much like their physical traits.”
One morning, as I sat reading emails, Alex hovered nearby, drawn into the Facebook thread of stories. Suddenly, he paused, recognizing a name. “Mom, that’s Dad!” he exclaimed, pointing at a comment that read, “Hi Alex. My son has autism, and I have loved him since the moment he was born.”
Initially, I thought the term “bajillion” was merely a whimsical way to describe the multitude of responses to my blog post. However, I realized it represents far more. It embodies confusion, fear, joy, and the everyday reality of families navigating autism. It encompasses individuals from various backgrounds, each with their unique stories and experiences.
In essence, “bajillion” signifies a blend of challenges and triumphs, moments of despair intertwined with laughter and love. It is a reminder that while autism can sometimes feel isolating, there is a vast community of support that exists, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and understanding.
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Summary
This article reflects on the feelings of isolation experienced by families with children on the autism spectrum, particularly focusing on a mother’s efforts to connect her son with others who share similar experiences. It highlights the vast community of individuals with autism and underscores the importance of support and understanding in navigating the complexities of this condition.
Keyphrase: autism community
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