Ada Wells

You know, for years, the medical community said I didn't love my son enough, and that's what caused his autism.

You're the first person who ever accused me of loving him too much.

I, um, I didn't...

You may have been right in a way.

I had held on for so long, I didn't know how to let go.

Doctors always talked about Teddy like he was broken and needed to be fixed.

I was afraid of what that meant.

I really did believe I was the only one who could ever truly care for him and know what he needed.

Oh, no.

It was never easy.

I was depressed.

I was angry.

Sometimes after Teddy would finally fall asleep, I would scream into a pillow until I had nothing left.

I was angry at my husband for not even trying to understand, angry at my family for not being there for me.

I wondered what I had done to deserve it.

Then I used to feel guilty until I realized none of it was a reflection on who I was as a person or my ability to be a good mother.

My sister asked me once if I found it difficult to love Teddy.

I told her, it's only the disability you struggle to embrace, not the child.

This is your child?

There is an enormous sense of loss that comes with being the parent of a child with a disability.