Last night I went to bed depressed and in tears. We’re working on getting my son an official diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder. He’s been through a bunch of testing, my ex and I filled out a questionnaire together and yesterday the Occupational Therapist sent an email with a summary of everything so far. It was a lot to take in. I felt so overwhelmed. And so inadequate.

As I lay there in bed I was hit with this realization. It’s so obvious, but thus far I haven’t been thinking much about the future, just about now. The realization was that my son will always be autistic. It’s not something that can be taken away. It’s not something that can be changed. With that thought came all these questions about how it’s going to affect his life, not just now, but years and years into the future. And of course, it made me wonder how, or if, I’ll be able to help him.

Luckily, my ex and I are pretty good co-parents. At least I think we are. But I still feel so overwhelmed, so inadequate and alone to be doing this as a single mom. As a single mom who deals with anxiety and depression daily. I don’t mean to complain. I am grateful for my blessings—they are many. I’m just scared. For my son, and for me.