A Terrible Wish

I have a friend who has a child with an autism diagnosis close to Ella's age who shared this Facebook post last night. 

To the Woman Who Stayed . . . Finding Cooper's Voice

I read it and wept. 

I live and teach in a community that is perhaps a little more accepting than most of families who are learning to navigate the ins and outs of autism. I have neighborhood mom friends, teacher mom friends, and moms of students who have become wonderful friends with autistic children. I've watched them struggle with an initial diagnosis, go through a myriad of therapies, and be granted grace for their children and the things that are difficult for them. I've also seen them crumble and then stand tall again when others have judged their child, excluded their child, or worse, bullied their child for being different. I've tried so hard to stand with them and be an advocate for them and their child.

But this post - this post broke me. And I had the terrible wish that I've caught myself wishing more than once over the past 6 years. I wish I could just say that Ella's struggles are caused by autism. 

I wish I could just throw out that label to ask my community for grace and patience when she struggles. I wish I could tell her friends or our neighbors that she's different because of something she can't control, knowing they would likely go back to their parents and use a word that would be familiar to most. I wish I could search Facebook for a moms support group. I wish I could tell her teachers at school or at church that she struggles with her social interactions and new things because of this diagnosis that is neither her fault or ours. And more than anything I wish that I could have a mom friend like the mom in this story, who would physically stand beside me, encourage me, and deflect the stares and glares because she knows that this is beyond Ella's control and that I'm doing everything I possibly can to help my daughter.

Sometimes I wish I could just say, "Give us grace because . . ." instead of facing the stares, judgements, and comments of how horrible of a parent I am or how I should "just give her a good spanking" - all comments that I know she has heard at one point or another. It's a terrible wish, but some days I just wish . . .