One Headlight.

On a good day, I look upon the broken pieces with a stupefied admiration for our ability to overcome. On a bad day I am resentful of how many broken pieces our family has been dealt. Mercifully, not all days are bad days.

Autism and Intellectual Disability live here. Those two are our calling cards – our billboard.. our brand even.. However, others live here too. Crohn’s Disease, Fibromyalgia, Diabetes, Polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), Insomnia, Hypersomnia, Sleep apnea, Depression and Anxiety all live in our home with our family. They are all constant companions of ours. They look over our shoulders, telling us what we can and cannot do – who we can and cannot be.

Throughout most of our lives we have tried to be as “normal” as possible. We have tried to fit in. We have tucked away as many of our scars as possible in the hopes of gaining acceptance with others who appeared to be less broken than we were. Eventually, as Noah’s severity became clearer to us, it became impossible to fit in without that being a central focus of our interactions. It also became increasingly difficult to devote as much time and resources to working on our broken pieces. Since we already knew how different we really were – how many battles we were fighting in the dark, we unified around his differences in the light. It was easier to talk about his “brokenness” than our own. If we’re being honest however, Noah is far less “broken” than we are.

I can’t remember the last day that I didn’t feel pain – most days its significant pain. If I had to guess I’d say its been a few years at least, perhaps not more than a few days this decade. I had surgery in 2012 & 2013. We believe that is when Fibromyalgia entered my life. Some days it’s a light shower, other days it’s a debilitating monsoon. But its always raining. The surgeries were a result of a longstanding battle with Crohn’s Disease. Since I was an awkward 7th grader, Crohn’s has been an ever present autoimmune warlord, threatening me with its abdominal spear. He has punctured me at the most inopportune times, scarring my torso with three surgeries total.

My wife gave me permission to detail her medical conditions further, but I’ll let her do so in her own words at another time. Suffice it to say that her health battles have been as severe as mine in different ways. Also, like me, she has deprioritized her own health in favor of Noah’s. Only this past year did she finally, mercifully, prioritize her health, undergoing bariatric surgery and heroically losing 100 pounds in the last year. As we move forward now, I’m inspired by the epic lyrics of The Wallflowers..

“Me and Cinderella, we put (the broken pieces) together. We can drive it home. With One Headlight.."

All we need is one headlight..