This afternoon Ewan turned to me and asked what seemed like a simple question:

Ewan: "Did you cry when I came out of your tummy mom?"

Me: "Not really.’"

Ewan: "Did you cry when Vaughn came out? What about Skye?"

Me: "I cried a lot when Skye was born, and a little when Vaughn was born and hardly at all when you were born."

Ewan: "Why didn’t you cry when I was borned?"

Me: "Because they gave me special medicine that made the pain go away."

Ewan: "Did that medicine go into my mouth while I was in your tummy?"

Me: "No, it was a special kind that went in my back and it didn’t go into your tummy."

Ewan: "So then how did I get autism then?"

Me: "You were born that way Ewan, it’s part of who you are—almost all of us have a little bit of autism Ewan. Autism is in your genes, it makes you you and it makes some things easier and some things harder.

Ewan: "But I’m not wearing jeans mom."

I am continually surprised by the way Ewan continues to process and understand what it means to be autistic. Just when I think he is not self-aware enough to handle the gravity of the situation, he says the most insightful things. The inner workings of his mind continue to amaze me. Not many 8 year olds have such a delicate appreciation of what it means to be different and to think differently. He is right now, trying to make sense of the knowledge he has been given. Trying to make sense of the complex world around him. Trying to find his place in this world.

Whether he recognizes it or not, Ewan is grieving. Much like the parent who grieves upon hearing the words, "Your child has autism", Ewan is too moving through the phases of grief. He is looking for that cause, that thing, that explanation that would help it all make sense. That event, that moment, that happenstance that has made him autistic. Much like the mother does in thinking about everything she did or didn't do during pregnancy. Blame is but one step on a lifelong goal towards acceptance and understanding.

One of the downsides to Autism Awareness Month is that we are often bombarded with all things autism. The good, the bad, and the ugly. It's a wild ride for parents but just imagine what that must feel like to the person with autism.

I once heard a mother talk about her autistic child as a 'shell of a human being.' At that moment, I remember wondering what must her child think about this? It would be unwise to assume the child with autism doesn't understand that phrase, wasn't listening, and wasn't internalizing the frustration and grief of the mother. I think about the child with autism in the month of April a lot. I think about how hard it must be to develop a positive self-esteem when bombarded with notions of cures and quick fixes and diseases. These children often deal with depression and negative self-image enough in their lives. There is a reason suicide is a problem for so many with autism.

Yes, the person with autism is different. Yes, their lives are very different than some of our own. Yes, some of their priorities are different than most others. Yet they still have value. Their lives still have meaning. They still have so much to offer the rest of us. Those with autism will always teach us more than we will ever teach them.

Grief is a cycle. It is not a simple upward motion from denial to acceptance. It cycles around and around again with each new event in life. The same holds true for the person with autism. I know that as Ewan struggles with comprehending the depth of the situation at 8, he will come back to these same struggles at 15, at 21, at 37, and the rest of his life. It is his path now to walk, to find his place in The Autism Life. I am merely here to help him back up when he falls, to encourage him when he is discouraged, and to give him hope when he feels all hope is gone. Ewan must find his own path, must blaze a trail for himself through this often cruel and demanding life. And he's just taken his first steps towards a brave new world.