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A mother’s heartbreak…


Ok so any of you that have read my blog know that I have one teenage son with aspergers.  You may also know that I have 9 angel babies that I never got to hold.  You may also have occasion to know that that is all I will ever have because I had a hysterectomy last year after battling PCOS for many years and finally not being able to stand it any longer.  For those who don’t know, please read up on my blogs.

Last night I called my son while leaving work, like I do every single day.  A call in the morning, a call after work and a call to say goodnight.  Last night he informed me that he was going to spend this next weekend hanging out with his friend instead of coming home.  He has not been home for the past two weekends.  This generally would hurt my feelings but not reduce me to tears.  Generally.  This coming weekend is Mother’s Day.  This coming weekend should be a time for him to come home and say thanks for being his mom, for us to spend the day together doing fun stuff that we both enjoy.  But no.  No mother’s day for me this year.

He had informed me that Mother’s Day is just another day to him.  That it doesn’t mean anything really.  This, of course, was after  he informed me that since I only saw him every other weekend I was barely a parent.  This was also after he informed me that my husband, the guy who he told me he loved like a dad, was annoying and that he didn’t think of anyone as a dad.

This breaks my heart.  But I know it is not his fault.  These are the things that go along with him being an aspie.  He lacks that empathy that typical minded folks  have.  But living with his grandmother, instead of being taught to look for these moments and learn how to behave so as not to hurt others, he is being taught that “This is how I am, take it or leave it.”  Now generally this would be what I would want for him, but not to the point where he doesn’t care who he hurts or how badly.

And she told me that she was ok with him not coming home to me on mother’s day because “He is home”.  Last night I did not call my son to tell him goodnight.  I prayed that he would call me.  He did not.  I guess she is going to keep on until she finds a way to cut me out of his life completely.  I just wish that I knew what I could possibly have done to make her hate me so much that she has to harm him to hurt me.

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