Dear Amos

Dear Amos

It seems only fitting that I write you a letter. Three years I have known you and yet, I don’t feel like I really know you. Perhaps I do, but I want so much more. Life has a way of being like that. You are perfect my son, have I told you that? You are perfect.

You like waffles, all things with syrup really and you will stop crying if offered a Hershey bar. You don’t really like pizza but you will eat it, in a pinch. You don’t mind your cozy crib but you prefer to lie between the two people that most adore you. Your most favorite place is outside. You love trains. Your sister annoys you and you push her away and say a firm, No!

I never thought I would have a child with special needs. I didn’t know it was like this. How could I have known? Why did no one tell me? Maybe I just wasn’t listening. You’re wonderful. When I ponder my place in this grand universe, I know that it is you I have been waiting for, you who are cultivating the fields of a family who is no longer lost.

I share our journey, Amos. I share your journey and I hope that’s okay with you. I really do. If only I had known how grand it would be for the chance to raise a little boy with extra special needs, I may have saved myself some heartache. I struggle still, but never with the acknowledgement of having you. If we give a glimpse of us to the world, perhaps the world will grow in kindness.

It’s me that screwed up. It’s me that has spent the whole of her life attempting perfection so as to be rewarded love. It’s you that showed me how imperfection is the key to what I long for the most. My glaring errors, my quick tongue, my slovenly self, my selfish heart, my whole imperfect messy persona, they are what make me, me. And Amos, you and your extra special needs, are what make you, you. You have made me the best version of myself. Thank you for the gift that has marked this Christmas on my heart.

Love, Mama

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