Are You There God? It's Me, Becca

Jude loves it when we figure out what he is saying or thinking about. He does a little dance, then holds his hands to his sides and stays very still for a second, as is to savor the joy of being known, just for a moment.

He has a new game. He closes his eyes, and reaches for me, and touches my face, like a blind person trying to feel the features of the one he loves.

"You want to know I am still here, even when you can't see me, that Mama never disappears, right?"

He does the dance, and the arm thing, and then collapses into my arms and stays there. Separation anxiety has ruled both our lives, we hate to be apart, especially for bedtime. I sit by his door while he screams for me, telling myself its for the best, he needs to do this. He has a picture of me he can look at, to remember that I do not disappear.

Sometimes it is hard for me remember. The One I Love does not disappear, He never changes, He is always there, even if I can't see or feel Him just right now.

I close my eyes, and reach out.
Are You still there? Because my mind can't hold on to the idea of you, but my heart knows what is true. And Jude falls asleep with my picture, because his heart knows I am waiting there, just outside the door.

Like Polio, Jennifer. Like Polio.

Here is the link for the Five for Fighting video. Autism Speaks gets 49 cents for every view.
Enjoy!
http://www.whatkindofworlddoyouwant.com/videos/view/id/213154

Hey! you in the overalls

We were going through videotapes of Jude's first year, something I had avoided until now because the raw hope and happy expectation would be, I worried,a bit too painful. The desire to warn the twenty something me might send me to a sad place. Wait, I would say, don't get too happy, things are about to get complicated, that baby cooing at you as you bathe him, well, sorry to be the one to tell you, but he'll stop talking. He'll only shriek and scream and you will spend all your time trying to figure out what he needs. That toddler with the big eyes, well, you just won't have time to play with him anymore. Enjoy the simple pleasures of pushing them in the double stroller all over the neighborhood, nursing your baby while your adorable two year old plays. You're so proud of them.
A little smug, even.

Angie, an occupational therapist, cheerleader and expert on all things Jude, needs these tapes for a presentation she is doing about Jude's case. Jude is fascinating, autistic, strange,
oddly social and making progress in leaps and bounds. The world needs to see this guy. It is like we found him in the rain forest. A new species.

So I watch the tapes. God we were happy. Ah, to be young and ignorant of what lurks around the corner.

What else would I tell that chick in the beat up overalls and the lip ring?

Well, the lip ring is gonna mess up your teeth, honey. And you will be shedding tears, oceans of tears, because that happy dream will come to an end and be replaced by needles and bruises and developmental experts who shake their heads and tell you they don't know much about the brain, really. You will tell them to figure it out, okay? That's why you drive a Lexus, lady, just fix it.

They will exchange that look you hate, and talk to you like you are a little nuts. You are a little nuts. You feel like tossing a chair.

You know what though, lip ring girl? You won't die. You'll keep moving, and you'll figure out that there is bright, happy light behind your little boy's eyes, that there is a whole fabulous world in there, yours to explore. And he will start to explore your world, too. He is not lost, honey, not by a long shot. Your toddler will show you how resilient he is, and the two of you will feel God's mercy, His love, His tender heart towards you, you will both know He is there and nothing can keep you from His arms. You'll start to laugh and play again.

So, full circle, sugar, seven years from now you will have another boy with hair like fire and he makes your life like a party every doggone day, and the screaming will be drowned out by laughter, tears of sorrow replaced by tears of gratitude and joy, and hon? Your mother moves in and you get to see her happy for the first time in your life.

Trust me. It will be okay. It is all working together, even the worst of it, like a big swirling kaleidoscope of love and pain and mercy and tears and laughter and you get to stand back and see it for what, and Who, it is.

So, I can watch the tapes. Lip ring girl doesn't make me so sad now. I blow her a kiss and lean back in my husband's arms.

You go girl. It's gonna be fine.
Promise.