I write a lot about my son being nonverbal. It is the most frustrating and challenging part of dealing with his autism for me. He was diagnosed on the autism spectrum at 21 months. The reality is that my son is almost five years old and cannot tell me things. There’s so much I want to know and so much he could share with me. 

I wish my son could tell me about his day. 

I wish my son could share his dreams with me. 

I wish when my son cried he had words to tell me why. 

I wish my son could tell me when he’s sick and doesn’t feel well or when something hurts. 

I wish my son could ask me to buy him things. 

I wish my son could tell me what his favorite color or song is, his true likes and dislikes. 

I wish he could tell me if someone is mean to him or hurts his feelings. 

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I wish my son could ask to play a game, go to the mall, or stay up late. 

I wish my son could tell me silly jokes and stories about how he is Batman or Spider-Man. 

I wish my son could ask me for hugs, kisses, and cuddles.

I wish I was more confident in my son going off without me. 

I wish I knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how he’s feeling.

I wish that life with nonverbal autism wasn’t such a guessing game. I wish I didn’t feel like a detective all the time, trying to use his body language and facial expressions to try to figure things out. 

I wish there was more certainty than doubt. 

I wish that when my son was upset, I didn’t have to go through a mental checklist—a series of questions to determine the root of the problem. 

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Is he hungry? 

Is he sick? 

Does he have a fever? 

Is he injured?

The list goes on.

I wish I could say our days are easy, and we rarely struggle. 

But, I can say this . . . I love my son UNCONDITIONALLY!

I know we will always be OK. 

I know we will find a way to grant all those wishes. Yes, you read that right.

I believe he will communicate all those things I’m wishing for. 

I know as he grows, he will learn more, do more, and gain more skills. He will learn his letters, to read and spell. If he can’t find his words, he will type them or use pictures and symbols to communicate. 

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If the past is any indication of the future, we will climb this gigantic mountain. We may stumble. We may slide and fall. We may be exhausted and drained. But, we will never give up, and we will do all those things, cross off all these wishes, and do even more than I ever could imagine. 

I hope. 

I believe.

I know. 

Faith can move mountains (Matthew 17:20).

Originally published on the author’s blog