It sits quietly on my counter everyday staring right at me as I pour my morning coffee.
Every morning I stare back at it and tell myself tomorrow, we will start tomorrow.
Sometimes, I bring myself to take the pill out of the bottle and get ready to trick my hyper little firecracker of a three year old into taking the pill that just might dull the beautiful sparkle of personality he shines.
He wakes up, he finds me, he crawls in my lap and lays his head on my chest.
Inside of every melt down,
Inside of every Smile
Inside of every quiet moment
Inside of every squeak, and every half squeak
He knows that I am here.
He knows that I am his safe haven.
He knows that I am his protector.
He knows that my lap is his comfort.
& He knows that his head fits perfectly right under my chin when the world becomes just a little to much for his tiny little mind.
Sometimes when the world just doesn’t understand, I cry, and tell myself it’s time.
But the truth is,
I don’t know if I am giving this medication to help him with autism,
or to help the world with his autism.
Am I dulling his sparkle, or am I brightening it?
I am not sure if this answer will come today, tomorrow or even for a month.
I suppose for now, it will simply stay on my counter, and I’ll continue my morning conversations with me, God, and this bottle of pills…..
Have thoughts on medication and Autism? Let me know in the comments, I’d love your advice!
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