This book is a meditation about what unconditional love offers both recipient and giver. By Sarah Buttenwieser
With an IQ of 70, I don’t think he has the capacity for figuring it out on his own. By Laurie Foos
Shelter in place has become a cocoon where our family has slowly let this diagnosis of Down syndrome sink in. By Maggie Shafer
Maybe following these accounts is a form of penance for the guilt of being one of the lucky ones who got to take her baby home. By Justine Feron
I breathe words like oxygen. They are everywhere. Except in the mouth of my child. By Leah Moore
How exactly could I break this news to a kid who already went to bed every night scared of death to the point of tears? By Tanya Mozias Slavin
We don’t want our boys to be “cured.” There is no cure; autism is a chronic state, like arthritis, or love. By Elizabeth Michaelson Monaghan
Is there any better teacher of life for a kid on the spectrum than a brother or sister? By Marya Markovich
There’s Cooper, she’s at least a full head shorter than every other child on stage. This causes both attention and confusion. By Carina McLaughlin
Why in the world had I even brought the kids to the store? I just wanted to go home, have a good cry and forget about autism for a while. By Jennifer Jones
We can try to compare miseries, heartaches, injustices but, in the end, it becomes impossible. By Diana Kupershmit
I told Mama to stop taking me to doctors when I was twelve. I didn’t want to be a burden. By SaraGrace Griffin
Eighteen years later, nothing has changed. All the firsts I had been praying for never came. By Shauna Actis
I’m terrified that my teenager, who has Down syndrome, won’t ever find real love—and also that she will, but that it won’t be the right kind. By Amy Silverman
I was raised to believe that my differences didn’t have to limit or set me apart. But the world disagreed. By Meg Zucker
Are we to blame for our children’s frailties? The easy response is of course not. The honest answer is yes and no. By Nan Mooney
I held his illness deep inside me the way I would hold shame. In the dark, it rotted and grew. By Laura Leffler
My son’s fight or flight mechanism often shut out his ability to function. I was devastated I had not been able to help him. By Jill Dyer
We connected through the magic of the internet. Her son was in crisis. Could I help?
By Brianne DeRosa
I learned to meet him right where he was, which was on the floor, counting.
By Rachel Turner
One day my son was a typically developing, albeit shy, three-year-old. The next he wasn’t able to say a word in public.
By Tanya Mozias Slavin
Nowhere in my plans was talking to a stranger about teaching basic social skills. Nowhere in my plans was autism.
By Katie Read
Her son never wanted to be in the picture. Then he discovered himself behind the camera.
By Debbie Urbanski
My unborn kid had a 1 in 214 chance of having Down syndrome. Those seemed like pretty good odds.
By Amy Silverman
I wonder in which direction of social acceptance Charlie’s drum will lead.
By Sara Petersen