My Miracle Boy
On May 24th 2020 my entire world changed in a matter of moments.
Since my son’s Autism diagnosis in February, I still had not said the words aloud, “my son has autism.” I would use phrases such as “he receives special services” or “he has special needs.”
I had not gathered up enough strength to use the word Autism and Charlie with the same breath.
I guess in my magical world the diagnosis wasn’t real until I said it was. I am honestly not sure how long I would have avoided using the word Autism to describe my son…truthfully…probably as long as possible.
Then, over Memorial Day weekend my life changed forever.
My four year old son Charlie took a fall in our home. He fell off a jumper in his sensory area. Initially after the fall, Charlie appeared to be doing great. He was playful, eating, and acting like my wild little boy. He didn’t appear to have any bumps or bruises, his eyes were reacting normally, I wasn’t too overly worried.
Then as the evening approached he became sleepy, and in what felt like moments he became almost unresponsive.
The ambulance ride to the hospital is a blur. I can only recall bits and pieces. Quickly upon arrival, Charlie was taken for a CT scan and a team of doctors determined that Charlie had a brain bleed and would need emergency surgery.
The surgery would involve removing the right side of his skull, stopping the brain bleed once inside, and finishing, by placing his skull back together with four screws.
A doctor that I had never met in my life would have her hands on my child’s brain.
Nothing in those moments felt real, everything was a fog. I was desperately trying to stay positive, but the worst fears any parent could have kept entering my thoughts.
My husband was away for the weekend and my entire world was slowly crashing down around me. I am not sure in what moment I said, “my son is nonverbal, he has Autism”…but in those terrifying moments I needed every nurse, respiratory therapist, and doctor to know.
I needed them to know that my son does not have words to communicate with them. That my son may not understand what is happening after he wakes up. I needed the world to know that he has already been through so much in his short little life. I needed the medical staff to know him, and the word Autism that I had long avoided for so long, I now repeated over and over.
The time in the waiting room felt like an eternity. Our family was blessed with such an outpouring of prayers that I felt empowered he would get through this. My husband arrived at the hospital about thirty minutes before surgery ended. An amazing team of doctors and nurses informed us that Charlie made it through surgery.
He beat all the odds and was a true superhero. I could finally catch my breath. I had made it through one of the scariest moments of my life. The relief and happiness I felt in my heart knowing my son was going to live cannot be described in words.
I sat in an empty waiting room knowing that my entire life had just changed. My family was given a true miracle. I made a promise to myself in the waiting room that night. I would no longer focus on the struggles Autism brings to my life, I promised to always find the joy and celebrate my son every chance I get!
I no longer avoid the word Autism. Saying aloud that Charlie has Autism no longer takes my breath away. I am truly grateful that Autism is a way to explain my son’s uniqueness to others. It actually seems silly now that one word can hold so much stigma.
My son’s Autism is one of the many pieces that make him such an amazing little boy. In those moments when I thought I could lose my son, I kept thinking about how insignificant some of the things I worried about seemed. In those moments, I prayed to have every hard moment, sleepless night, and meltdown back. I just wanted to hold him in my arms.
Charlie is now completely recovered from brain surgery. On August 11th 2020 he had his last CT scan post brain bleed. Charlie’s brain is completely healed. My son is a true miracle and my perspective on so many things has shifted. The little things I took for granted hold such importance now. My son is making amazing progress, but yes it is slow. He works so hard, harder than any (now five) year old should have to.
Charlie can now independently take off his clothes before a bath. He can wait until I turn the water on to get in the tub. These are huge accomplishments, and we celebrate all of them along the way.
I still have sleepless nights when I worry about the future, but I now look for happiness each day brings. I celebrate all the gifts that Autism has given me.
I have an amazing little boy that gives the best hugs and kisses. He has the best heart and the biggest smile. Charlie would rather play with a stick in the yard than any expensive toy from a store. I wish we all could enjoy the simple things in the way he does. My sweet boy thinks a bath is the most exciting event ever.
Charlie brings happiness to everyone he meets. He has become my teacher of life’s most important lessons.
I now proudly say that I am an Autism Momma to the best little boy in the world.
Written by, Abbie Summers
My name is Abbie Summers, I am the mother of two amazing kiddos. My five year old son Charlie has Autism and my NT daughter Jordan is two years old. I am a wife, counselor, and educator.
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