The Right Amount of Hope
I’ve been thinking a lot about hope lately.
And the right amount to have. Which is a funny thing to think about really. Because, how can one have the wrong amount of hope?
My son has autism. And somehow, no matter where I am on the ‘hope for his future’ spectrum, I seem to have the wrong amount for some people.
If I hope for words, I am told I should really be hoping for communication.
If I hope for independent living, I am told that I’m not accepting reality.
If I hope that our son can live with us forever, I am told I am being negative.
If I hope that he learns to experience his birthday party, or a trip to the zoo or his brother’s baseball game without a meltdown, I am told that I shouldn’t care. Because he is happy. And that’s all that matters.
Hope.
It’s complicated to say the least.
You see, as parents of special needs kids, sometimes it feels like we can’t get it right. Someone is always there to tell us we are doing it wrong.
Personally, right now I’m in a really good place.
I’ve got the right amount of hope for me. For right now. For this part of our journey.
I’m long past the shock of the initial diagnosis and hoping that my son would snap out of it.
I’m past hoping his autism goes away.
I don’t spend every day hoping for words. And I certainly don’t dwell on the words we don’t have.
Of course I secretly hope he starts talking. But I’ve learned that words aren’t everything.
I’ve learned to talk about life long care and the future in a positive way. Without crying.
I’ve also learned that I don’t like the Kate that spent way too much time hoping for things that weren’t really possible. She was sad. She wasn’t being the best mom she could be.
So I changed. One day. Just like that.
I stopped letting the world tell me what I should hope for. And I took a long look at my amazing son and picked new hopes.
It was one of the most defining days of my life as his mom.
Because for the first time, I felt relief from the pressure. I set goals that were attainable. And I adjusted my hope to match.
Today, I hope that my son lives a long, happy, fulfilled, as ‘independent as he can be’, life.
I hope he learns to communicate. And say some words.
I hope he continues to thrive in the correct therapies. I hope that his anxiety continues to go down so he can enjoy the world around him.
And I hope that one day he can experience all the gifts and wonder that the world has to offer.
See, my hope isn’t wrong. It may be different than yours. And that’s okay.
I want to tell you that you can hope for whatever you want. If you want to hope for speech…do it. If you want to hope for independent living…do it.
There is no right or wrong.
Figure out the right amount of hope for you and your child.
Trust me, once you do, it will change your life.
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