Running through Water

This photo was taken over the Scioto River in broad daylight, but thanks to filters it looks like a cross section between day and night. When sleep is elusive for our children with autism and days roll into nights roll that into days… that sultry blanket doesn’t seem quite as enchanted and that line between light and dark not nearly as defined. I’m not certain that A2 has ever slept through the night in his life. For the first several years of his life he was up every 90 minutes or so. I was told to let him cry it out. So I did. And then abandoned the wholehearted attempts after 11 weeks. We have it easier than many. A2’s nighttime visits do not include damaging the house, self harm or escaping, but is instead marked with fitful wandering, bed hopping, laundry for diaper leaks and sometimes a sneaky visit with The Wiggles on the DVR. We wonder if his slow cognitive development and behavioral issues are exacerbated by exhaustion and we try to have patience in our own exhaustion recognizing that if he could sleep, he would. There is no simple answer for the underlying etiology of lack of sleep for kids with autism and hope that my guy doesn’t feel tortured by sleep being just a visitor passing through. In the still of darkness I wonder if I am the only one awake in the world. Shadows turn into demons of an uncertain future and the quiet becomes a deafening blare of anxiety that the hustle and pace of the day drowns out. Perhaps even if A2 could have restful sleep, I am fairly certain that I still would not.