My son planted the seed of transformation in our lives when he was conceived.
In that water-rich uterus of mine the seed received nourishment everyday, and everyday I watched it grow.
Growing slowly in semi-lit conditions - far from the sun like our own blue planet.
For me he was a mystery of great proportions.
My own growth and change didn't have a chance to evolve / adapt gently.
His complete lack of sleep. His resistance to change (ironically), persistence to be wildly different was at times stronger than me.
And we danced strange dances. I cried long waltzes. Rivers of isolation.
I partially wanted answers. I partially feared answers. Many times I refused them entirely.
My husband on the other hand saw it differently. In a way I like to imagine that we were looking at the same river from different angles, with our own very personal experiences from completely different walks of life.
We shared the love for the river, but also the exhaustion to navigate its currents - it was draining.
When I was pregnant with him I had many vivid dreams in which he would stare at me and smile floating clear waters. So beautiful, so powerful that the only thing I wanted when I finally pushed him out was to meet that floating seed.
He sucked strongly, hungry for life.
The wild unknown developed throughout the years.
And as we walked together we met many especial people that helped keep us together, that in so many ways kept me standing.
There were times I felt I didn't deserve. Like when I worked with classic autistic children. Those days I felt my problems were mere ant-size life lessons.
His behavior was often misunderstood. A fact that to this day brings me sharp sadness. Not soft, tear-like, but deep penetrating sadness and a feeling of hopelessness.
I have felt countless times a desire to run away with him and my family to a place no one could ever hurt him, us.
With a degree in the-art-of-refusing-the-norm or simply deeply attached to my old stories, I refused formal diagnosis. My husband never believed then either.
Now, ironically, we wait for an evaluation that will bring light to the mysteries so dearly unknown. I imagine that our lungs will burst with relief!
And I anticipate (painful?) challenges to come. We now even have a date and we are creating space for new beginnings, for growth, n e w s t o r i e s.
As beautiful as something we humans love so much: h o p e.