I cannot even begin to explain how much it emotionally destroys me as a person, as a mother, to not be able to fully communicate and understand my very own son. It makes my heart hurt.

I cried for an hour today. I mean, I’ve cried before, who hasn’t, right? But this was a new type of cry for me, where it starts out feeling that all is lost, and ends by lifting your head up high enough, wiping your tears, and telling yourself to not give up. You could say that it was a good cry.

Now let me start off by saying that being Bryce’s parent, well, it’s not always rainbows. Don’t get me wrong, he is my little angel with a broken halo, but he has his not so angelic moments. As a result, there are the not so common times where I am just so fed up that I just break down. It’s being beyond, way-way beyond, frustrated and that quickly turns into anger, which ends up becoming sadness, and then the tears come, and you just feel so alone, so very alone. Ok, a little dramatic, I know, but you get what I mean, right?

I’m not going to go into the details, cause it’s irrelevant, but today Bryce was very vocally upset and frustrated, and I just couldn’t help him. I couldn’t do what mom’s are supposed to be able to do. I couldn’t make it better.

I started to get upset and frustrated that he couldn’t tell me what was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why are you screaming?”

“Use your words.”

“Stop screaming!”

“Stop repeating me and use your own words!”

“Tell me what’s wrong!”

All I wanted was an answer. I just wanted him to stop his continuous and constant parroting autism behaviour for just one minute and just say, ‘Mom, this is what’s wrong, and this is how you can fix it.’