Sometimes I Cry.

Sometimes I cry...

I am thankful for motherhood. It has humbled me and grown me and given me a level of understanding that is unmatched.

And yet, sometimes I cry...

The first baby I took home with me was all the love I could have ever asked for, wrapped in the softest blue blanket... He was the physical manifestation of everything his father and I had to offer, brought to life by the love we held for one another. He brought another level of joy to our home. He and his big brother were a match made in God's eyes. His giggles and tiny feet showed me a love that I could not otherwise have known.

And when everyone went back to their work and regular lives, it was me and him. My little best friend...

We did everything together. We went shopping, ate at restaurants, took flights, read books and took walks together. And at the end of each night, he snuggled up next to me and rested his beautiful shining eyes. As he slept beside me, I did not have a worry in the world. He was safe with me. He's my best friend and I have his back.

Then, things changed. My baby was a little out of sorts, like not his normal self. I remember the light switch going off for him. I had never been so afraid as I was then.

I knew him, better than anyone, and I knew he needed my help. And I had no idea of how to help him. We were both completely powerless in this. So I gathered my baby, the first thing I made with all the love I had ever known, and I sat in the floor with him. I held him and hugged and kissed him. I couldn't promise him anything in that moment. All I knew was that I would do anything for him. And I cried...

Autism. A word I knew nothing about is what the doctors gave me for my baby. With no explanation of how he got there and no guidance on how to get him out. I took it and him and took the longest car ride of my life.

I don't always have the answers. But I have been fortunate enough to always have the right people in my corner. I had a woman that I will cherish for the rest of my life get me started. The only way to explain her was that she and I were placed in each other's path for a reason. I had so much to learn and she was an amazing teacher. She showed me patience and understanding for my son and how to fight for him.

It was hard for the people around me to understand my little baby. And it felt lonely.

Sometimes I felt crushed under the weight of it all. Constantly fighting for a little boy with no words to be heard, I cried.

One day I sat wondering how I could continue and where could I find the strength, and an old man told me, that everything in my life up to that point was to prepare me to be Jai's mom.

I still cried.

But as I sat and reflected, I understood exactly what he meant. I was always meant to be his mom. Me specifically. It could not be anyone else...

So I wiped my tears and I picked my head up and headed out to battle the world for my baby.

But honestly, I still cry.

I cry in celebration of the things I didn't know if he would ever be able to do. I cry for the things that he hasn't yet been able to accomplish.

I cry at the thought that he'll be treated differently. I cry for the inevitable time that I won't be here to protect him.

And today, as he sat on the end of my bed just to talk to me about the snails he learned about at school, I cried.

I cried today for his innocence.

I am raising this perfectly innocent child in a world that will hate him just in case. One that will purposely misunderstand him and hurt him.

I know that one day he will be big and people will notice.

So I cried.

But when I'm done, I'm going to get right back in the fight for him...