Confessions of a Special Needs Supermom
| Seventeen and naive, |
| I wouldn’t have believed, |
| A decision – whatever |
| Would affect me forever. |
| My 17-year-old brain |
| Knew nothing of fatigue, |
| Autism, blindness, |
| Nor special needs. |
| Eighteen-years-old |
| Already a mama. |
| I wouldn’t have thought |
| There would be such drama. |
| My 18-year-old brain, |
| It didn’t know, |
| A tiny baby girl |
| Would lead the way to go. |
| At the hospital, |
| In a small room we waited, |
| While my tiny baby girl |
| Was heavily sedated. |
| Surgery was needed |
| On my baby girl’s brain. |
| I really didn’t know |
| Life would never be the same. |
| For the next few years |
| In our home we learned much. |
| Early Intervention goals, |
| Therapy and such. |
| When I was twenty |
| The day I married, |
| This sweet little girl |
| Down the aisle was carried. |
| My 20-year-old brain, |
| Oh, I didn’t know, |
| How profound it would be, |
| How deep it would go. |
| I didn’t know |
| Even way back then, |
| We would be carrying this girl |
| Until who knows when. |
| Then at twenty-two, |
| A baby boy blessing. |
| Life still seemed simple, |
| I was not stressing. |
| Almost twenty-four, |
| Another baby girl blessing. |
| The days became busy, |
| Each one kept us guessing. |
| I did not know, |
| The impact on siblings. |
| Blindness and autism, |
| Focus never-ending. |
| How do you choose, |
| Whose needs come first? |
| Which at each moment |
| Needs you the worst. |
| One blind, one chronic illness, |
| One not thriving. |
| How did the days become |
| Just about surviving. |
| Years of each day, |
| Living moment to moment, |
| Failing to meet all needs. |
| Only, I didn’t know it. |
| All through each day, |
| Looking forward to bed, |
| I still didn’t know |
| The lifetime stress to dread. |
| At thirty-six-years-old |
| The kids were all teens. |
| Life was still a challenge, |
| And I had no dreams. |
| After devoting those years, |
| To everyone else, |
| I was empty, I broke, |
| And had to find myself. |
| At thirty-seven-years-old, |
| A family divide. |
| My own house and college, |
| A new life I tried. |
| But I still had to focus, |
| On that first baby girl. |
| The one whose sweet head |
| Is still full of curls. |
| Intense planning, |
| Meetings and evaluations, |
| Endless ideas were discussed. |
| She needed vocation. |
| The light at the end of the tunnel, |
| Just one more transition. |
| Aging out was inevitable, |
| It was soon graduation. |
| I didn’t see, |
| It all wouldn’t matter. |
| I would end up carrying this girl |
| For ever after. |
| I hadn’t known, |
| What giving up meant. |
| And now that I do |
| My life feels spent. |
| I didn’t know, |
| ‘Alone’ would be theme. |
| How swallowed by this life |
| Each day would seem. |
| What I do know is |
| Three blessings I was given, |
| All gifts from God, |
| My own pieces of heaven. |
| And I haven’t forgotten, |
| Endless smiles, joy, and laughter, |
| Unconditional love, |
| And Happiness ever after. |
| Autistic interpretations |
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