A mother’s perspective

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/Kara MarzialiFour years into our marriage, my husband Adrien and I anticipated the birth of our first child. This was both terrifying and thrilling. While pregnant, I poured over every “what-to-expect-when” type of book I could get my hands on. I avoided raw foods, luncheon meats and caffeine. I took my prenatal vitamins and ate foods rich in folic acid. I kept stretch marks away with cocoa butter. When water retention was an issue, I elevated my swollen ankles. I did everything my ob/gyn told me to do. And yet, there would be no guarantees for that baby of mine.

When Adrien and I chose not to find out the gender of our child, well-intended individuals would say, “It doesn’t matter if it’s a girl or a boy, as long as it’s healthy.” Perhaps because I was overly hormonal, that comment made me uneasy. I’d often wished I had the chutzpah to rebuff, “Let’s just say for the sake of argument this baby is not healthy. What would you like me to do? Return it to the baby store and ask for a new model?” I simply knew in my heart that I would love my child regardless of gender or condition.

Nearly 16 years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. He had a shock of dark tresses, rosebud lips and large gray-blue eyes. He seemed perfect. At least to me. However, we discovered early on in Edward’s young life that all was not the “textbook” child I initially expected. He was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, an autism spectrum disorder, and I wondered if this was God’s sense of humor.

As a young mom struggling with parenting issues, a dear friend reminded me that this child of mine is merely “on loan” from God. This philosophy has helped me during both the joys and the trials of motherhood. Knowing Edward is just mine to “borrow,” I understand my role more fully, and I see his presence in my life as a true gift. God has blessed me with Edward for two reasons – to teach him how to get along in this world and, for me, to learn something equally as valuable.

Asperger’s kids are characterized by communication deficits, fixated interests and repetitive behaviors, and Edward is no exception. He is socially awkward, idiosyncratic and often immature. But he is also authentic, amusing, sensitive and reflective. His candor and sincerity remind me to be honest in all my affairs and see the good in all people.

Although many stages in Edward’s life have been a challenge (for both him and me!), I would not trade him for the world. In my experience, life with a child on the autism spectrum is always entertaining.

Last Mother’s Day, Edward decided to serve me breakfast in bed. He woke up early and poured cereal with milk in a bowl. Realizing it was only 4 a.m., he waited patiently to wake me. Three hours later, with a bowl of soggy cereal in hand, he greeted me with a cheerful “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy!” Although the mush that I ate for breakfast was less than appetizing, it was the most enjoyable bowl of cereal I can remember. The sentiment was affectionate and heartfelt. Sodden cereal aside, the gesture speaks to the kind of person Edward is.

During the most recent substantial snowfall, Edward spent hours amusing himself outside. Alone and in his own little world, he played as if no one were watching when, in truth, his audience included me, my husband and several neighbors peering out of windows.

There are so many more stories I could share about my son – someday I’ll tell you the one about the chicken scarves – but the ones that are truly worth telling are not what he does but, rather, who he is.

Edward’s spirit, although often solitary, is always sincere. He seems to be in this world but is not of this world. Thus, my son has taught me to view things from a different perspective. He has taught me to be a better person. He makes me look at myself in a completely new light. He teaches me about the kind of woman I want to be. I, too, want to “play” as if no one were watching. I want to be less concerned with what others think and more involved in spreading joy. I want my intentions to be pure even if the outcome is “soggy.”

So this Mother’s Day, if Edward’s impractical or socially inept gestures seem to fall short by society’s standards, I’ll revel in the simplicity of his efforts and praise him for the success of making me smile. To paraphrase Frederick Douglass, it is easier to build up a child than repair an adult.

KARA MARZIALI is the Director of Communications for the Jewish Alliance.