I dream of a chance to start over. Not to have another child, but to travel back in time and experience a genuine do-over with the one I have. It’s a sentiment I grapple with quietly, knowing full well it’s impossible and also recognizing it may undermine the strides he has made and who he truly is.
I wish I could return to the days of infancy, blissfully unaware of the challenges that lay ahead. I long to believe that the sleepless nights would come to an end and that potty training would be a breeze, sparing me from changing wet sheets before my morning coffee (and I mean coffee all day long just to keep my eyes open).
I desire for my son to be on the same playing field as his peers. It’s easy to forget that while other kids his age engage in various activities, he often remains content with the same Thomas the Tank Engine trains that most have outgrown. It’s both heartwarming and disheartening. I find myself wondering if those other kids are more advanced, completely unsure of what developmental milestones he should be hitting at this age.
I wish I didn’t have to navigate the confusing alphabet soup of acronyms like ASD, ADD, SPD, and IEP. I’d rather just buy him a box of Alphabits cereal and have him repeat the sounds I made when he sat in his high chair as a toddler—not just stare at me or throw them to the dog. (To be fair, that dog really did keep the floor clean around that high chair.) It pains me to see him learn words only to lose them later.
The labels we use to define functioning levels are frustratingly subjective. Yes, my son can hear musical notes and replicate them on a piano, yet he struggles with basic tasks like tying his shoes. This leaves me uncertain about where he fits within these classifications. While many people fear the stigma of labels, I recognize the need for some descriptive terminology. Perhaps one day someone will come up with a new label design that’s more appealing—”Same Great Autism Experience, Now with Less Stimming!”
I wish I didn’t come off as a helicopter parent, constantly scouting locations for potential safety hazards before we visit. I sometimes fantasize about simply arriving at a birthday party or sports practice and leaving without a second thought. Can you imagine? Some parents actually get to drop their kids off and return later! I’d love to relax at the beach, but my son would be making a beeline for the ocean. I can only dream.
It’s okay to wish for a do-over while also feeling guilty about it. These emotions can coexist in my mind. I can long for those moments of naive happiness while also acknowledging the reality of our situation. I might have been more present as a parent, worrying less about the brand of diapers I used and more about simply enjoying the moment. I might have hugged him a little tighter or sung him one more verse of “Ba Ba Black Sheep” while he slept in my arms.
Perhaps I would have invested in Ore Ida fries, knowing how essential they would become for us.
For more insights on home insemination, check out this post about our home insemination kit. Additionally, an informative piece from Intracervical Insemination highlights how infertility affects many families, and Healthline offers excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, the desire for a do-over in parenting, particularly when faced with unique challenges, is a complex mix of nostalgia and acceptance. It’s a longing for simpler times, coupled with the reality of navigating a world filled with labels and expectations.