Motherhood in the Deep End: Learning to Parent Through Autism

I’ve never known motherhood without autism.

I was thrown into the deep end—but I didn’t even know it at the time. In the beginning, I had no idea that my beautiful baby boy had autism spectrum disorder. So naturally, I thought I was doing everything wrong.

Nothing in the parenting books or the blogs seemed to help. So, I assumed the problem was me.

What I didn’t realize was that the people writing those books and blogs were parenting, and only talking about, neurotypical children. Their experiences weren’t mine. Their advice didn’t fit.

I’ve heard stories from families who say they raised their autistic child the same as their other kids. That they didn’t treat them any differently and that it was beneficial.

Maybe they didn’t have to. But for us, we did. We do.

For us, yes, through no real fault of my own, I was parenting “wrong.” I was parenting my child the wrong way—because he needed his own way.

And even that wasn’t going to make autism, and all that comes with it, go away.

We only have two children, and sometimes I wonder how different things would have been if my daughter had come first.

Would she have fit neatly into the boxes outlined in those parenting guides?

Would I have had a routine in place, a clearer sense of what was “typical”?

Would I have noticed the signs in my son sooner?

Maybe all the plans I had for traditions and routines wouldn’t have been forgotten—scrapped in favor of survival and adaptation.

Maybe it all would have felt a little less chaotic.

But that’s not how it happened. And the truth is, I don’t know what would have happened.

What I do know is this: we raise both of our children differently.

Differently from each other, and differently from how most people raise their kids.

Because autism changes everything in a family—even when only one person has it.

I try to divide my time evenly.

I try to validate everyone’s feelings.

I fail. I know I do. But we try.

Motherhood, for me, started in chaos.

And if I’m honest, I don’t think I’ve ever fully found my footing.

But maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s just part of our rhythm.

Because somewhere in the middle of the meltdowns and the milestones, the appointments and the unexpected joys, I changed too.

I became softer in some ways and stronger in others.

I’ve learned to hold plans loosely and moments tightly.

I see things now that I never would’ve noticed before—

like the quiet victories that come after hard days,

or the beauty in a connection that doesn’t need words.

Autism has stretched me.

It’s broken my heart and rebuilt it again.

It’s forced me to grow in ways I never asked for—

but also gifted me with a deeper kind of love.

One that sees beyond the surface and knows how to stay.

We are different.

We are a family of four.

We are loud. We are silly.

We fight. We make up.

We grow.

We love.

We are us.