Navigating the Quiet Grief of Autism :: Learning to Let Go of the Typical Milestones
Before I begin, let me be very clear: in no way, am I NOT proud of my son. Brady is the most kind, caring person I have ever met in my life. He truly has a heart of gold, and I would never ever want to change that. What I would love to change for Brady are his challenges and the world around him. I wish the world around him was kind like him and that his challenges would be easier for him.
Milestones are an important topic among many parents, but especially Autism parents or any parents of children with special needs. We are always watching for their first steps, first words, and educational milestones, and whether or not they are delayed in meeting those important milestones.
My son’s story is unique. He was diagnosed with a microdeletion of the 16.13.11 chromosome around age 2, and we were told he was too social to have a diagnosis of Autism. Funny how things change. He is now probably the most unsocial teenager I know. Around the age of 10, the school requested testing to be done, and finally after months and months, we received the diagnosis of Autism. 
As a mother, his delayed milestones were always on my radar. He was late to crawl, late to walk, late to talk, and late to learning the basics in school. Those always hurt my heart, but in his teenage years, we are grieving different milestones. While I am so thankful that Brady is able to communicate with us and has his motor skills, there are things that I still grieve as his mother.
Brady will most likely never move out of our home, not due to his capabilities, but due to financial independence. Brady will likely never be able to have a job that will allow him to pay all his bills independently. Thankfully, he will be able to get some sort of government assistance if need be. My child will never be a career oriented person with hopes of moving up the corporate ladder.
Let’s talk about driving. This topic has come up a lot lately now that he is 15. Brady has absolutely no desire to drive. It scares both of us, mainly because I am not quite sure that he has the quick instinct that is needed to make smart decisions while driving. Hopefully one day, we will get to that point where he can safely drive, but unfortunately, it will not be anytime soon.
While Brady will graduate high school with a diploma from St. Therese Academy, which we are so eternally grateful for, there will be no college tours or trying to decide where he will want to go. There will be no dorm shopping or decorating because he will never be able to attend a university like LSU. Large schools like LSU are just something he would not be able to handle, socially or academically. If Brady attends a college, it will look different than most, likely more trade oriented or with classes geared towards functioning in life as an adult.
Social isolation can be one of the quietest heartbreaks for special needs parents. This is what I am grieving the most with Brady at this time in his life. While his school has functions that he can attend, he does not want to attend due to his social anxiety. This is what I am struggling with the most. I am so fearful that he will look back one day and regret the things he missed like prom or other school activities. Brady does not have a consistent peer group that he feels comfortable with. We are working on that thanks to the wonderful moms at his school, but it is literally a daily struggle, and I can not tell you how exhausting it is.
There are so many things that I think about and worry about for Brady. Who will be his caretaker if something happens to us? Will he be able to self-advocate for himself? Will he be able to fill out job applications, banking information, or tax information? All of these things are a constant worry in my brain.
My grief does not cancel my gratitude. So I will keep celebrating the milestones that Brady has, surrendering the ones that we don’t. Trusting that God’s plan for my child is far greater than anything I could even imagine.
