I originally posted this years ago when I blogged under the name “Mia Hysteria”…yes, you know, General Hysteria. Don’t go looking, that site is no longer up. I’ve since come to peace with our family’s life and what was that blog’s purpose is no more. Digressing….
But this piece still holds true for me. Does it for you?
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There are many times I feel impassioned about J’s special needs. Many times I feel a ferocious roar in my throat, feel the hardening of my limbs as they unwillingly move into an unbending stance, preparing to pounce at any wrong word, any misspoken tone, any gesture clearly not thought out. Even towards my husband.
There’s something about being a mother of a child with special needs. I feel it for my other two, my beautiful “neurotypical” children; a feeling all parents, most especially mothers have. But there’s an edge to being a mother of a child with J’s needs. A salient threshold that’s uncontrollable in nature.
You seek to protect at every turn. Your insight, your foresight goes beyond the normal, natural boundaries of parenthood. You develop a sight of future endeavors, challenges, hurts, struggles, triumphs. Your vigilance in every experience, every breath is heightened only with the blanket of humanity’s nature holding you back. And this is in a simple walk through a grocery store; in a quick encounter with a peer from school; while watching on during child’s play in the neighborhood.
Eyes wide, perched, taking in all that surrounds my J, listening to words placed upon him, to whispers floating around him; expressions on faces, a quick glance there, a grimace there, I watch…I wait.
I am that Tiger.
