Will they see it ?

When I started this blog it was to vent myself. It was to try this blogging thing as way to journal. I used to journal back when pen and paper was an acceptable way to communicate. Imgine people's shock when you write them a letter that requires a stamp !

I did wonder if people would look. Now I wonder why they don't ? I sit on the fence wanting to be noticed and wanting to stay private. Some days I can tell my story to the world. Other days I want eveyone to leave my story alone. Today is a day where I want to be alone but I at least want someone to look.

I think one of the reasons that I worry so much about my A child is that I was one of those kids who never felt like they fit in. I always felt on the outside. I had friends. I belonged to clubs. I did sports. I always felt on the fringe. I couldn't always tell if people were joking. Sometimes I still can't. I didn't know how to take a compliment. I still don't. I always felt like I had to make myself seem bigger. Now I want to get smaller.

I see my son on the edge. It bothers me far more than him. He is happy just being. It doesn't bother him all that much when people don't want to play with him. He doesn't seem to notice when he is left on the fringe on purpose. He has his couple of friends and he is happy. I cry inside. I mourn for the popular boy I thought he would become. Funny about that - they were the people that I thought were idiots. Now I want my son to at least have the chance to be an idiot.

Aspergers robbed me of the son I thought I would have. It took my dreams and my hopes and my plans for his future and smashed them. He was going to be my golden child. The one who would get along with people and be smart and everything I wasn't. I put all that on him the day he was born. What a load for a little boy to carry. I resent the fact that my dreams don't mean anything anymore. That I have to change them to suit this syndrome, this stealer of dreams, this crusher of the heart.

He is loving, creative, smart, funny, weird, perplexing, challenging, cuddly, sensitive, empathetic, annoying and mine. He makes my heart cry and sing. When he succeeds I cry. When he stumbles I cry. My emotions for him are larger than I have ever thought possible.

He has had to fight so hard. Doctors appointments for itchy skin that weeped, wheezy lungs that ache, eyes that refused to meet mine, foods that made him rash, rashes that made him itch, a brain that refuses to conform, ears that might not have worked, words that were hard to say: a mother that refuses to back down. He has put up with so much and is full of sunshine. Is he full of sunshine becuase of his pain or because that is just they way he was born ? Probably both.

I often wonder if I could have prevented all of this. Was it something I did or didn't do ? I didn't smoke, drink or do drugs. I took my vitamins, got my prenatal care, ate well. Aren't you supposed to have a healthy baby when you do the right thing ?

Anyway.

As I sit and write I am jealous becuase my friend started a blog and someone already read it. I don't get jealous very often at all but when I do it's over the silliest things. Does it really matter if someone reads my words ? No. and Yes.