SHELLY HUHTANEN

Real

I walked back to my room and sat on the bed listening to him scream. It reminded me of his regression three-and-a-half years ago, when we moved to Fort Benning. He kept screaming and seemed to get louder, and the pitch seemed to get higher and higher.

Autism has a way of keeping us humble and reminding us that we need to appreciate the victories, even the small ones. Last week, my son had a rough night. He started screaming before bed and was inconsolable. I tried to talk to him and see if I could help him find the words to describe his feelings. After everything I could think of failed, I became detective trying to feel all over his body looking for clues. Did he have a fever? Did he have any fresh scrapes due to a fall I didn't witness? Was his stomach tight? I felt nauseous at the thought of having to add another food item that bothered his stomach. All came up negative. I couldn't figure out why he was screaming.

I stood back and finally asked, "Do you need time alone? I can give you some time if you feel you need it." Broden looked up and told me to shut the door. I honored his request. I walked back to my room and sat on the bed listening to him scream. It reminded me of his regression three-and-a-half years ago, when we moved to Fort Benning. He kept screaming and seemed to get louder, and the pitch seemed to get higher and higher. I peeked my head into Hayden's room. Hayden, his older brother, was trying to do his homework at his desk. I apologized for Broden and told him to hang in there. Hayden looked at me and shrugged.

I thought we were past this. I haven't witnessed this type of behavior in so long. It was almost as if I had forgotten how taxing it was to have Broden scream uncontrollably and to not be able to figure out what was causing it. I hate feeling helpless. I told myself to not forget this feeling so I would appreciate the days when we weren't battling behavior.

I walked down the hall and leaned my head against the door to see if I could tell if he was starting to calm down. Moments later the phone rang. It was Mark. He could hear Broden screaming once I answered and asked what was going on before saying hello. "I don't know. I can't get him to calm down. I'm just trying to give him some time," I said. Mark wanted to be there, but couldn't. I could feel the guilt through his voice as he said goodbye so I could focus my attention on Broden.

I went back into my room and sat on the bed listening to every howl coming from his room and then there was silence. He stopped. I could see Hayden at his desk from my bed. Once the screaming stopped, Hayden turned his head and we looked at each other. Was he going to start screaming again or was it over? I tiptoed to his room and leaned my ear against his door. I could tell from his breathing that he had spent all the energy his body had in the last 30 minutes and he was exhausted. I slowly opened the door and looked inside. His face and eyes were red. He was trying to slow down his breathing to stay calm and his pajamas were soaked from tears. I went over to his bed and leaned down towards him to place my hand on the top towards him to place my hand on the top of his head and I rubbed his chest saying, "I'm here. It's ok." After a few minutes I asked him if he was ready to go to bed and if he was ready to sing his bedtime song. After he said yes, I made a point to continue our bedtime ritual like we do every night. My hope was that this would give him comfort. I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead and told him I loved him. I turned off the lights and shut the door for the last time that night.

We made it. We got through it. Moments like this remind me how much I love him. He continues to remind me how powerful love is. You love someone so much you look beyond the behavior, no matter how trivial it can be, because desperately you want to show them that they are so much more. Autism did not win that night. Autism can be nasty, but it also can strip you from anything that is not worthy to hold on to. When I think of autism I think of the moment when the rabbit becomes real in the Velveteen Rabbit. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes dropped out and you get loose in the joints and are very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

Autism has showed me that I don't break easy and it has worn down my sharp edges. I would have to say the worry and stress has made my eyes droopy and I'm sure my hair isn't as shiny as it used to be, but it doesn't matter. The love for my son is real. The realness will always win. •

Shelly Huhtanen is an Army wife stationed at Fort Benning, GA who has a child with autism. She enjoys sharing her experiences of day-to-day life caring for her son with autism while serving as an Army spouse. She authored "Giving a Voice to the Silent Many" that encompasses many stories of raising a child with autism in the military. Shelly is passionate about autism advocacy for our military and works to bring awareness to our local legislators and command about providing better support for our military autism community, such as better health care and education.