My son, Oliver
When I found out that I was going to be a father, I just couldn’t believe it. Here I was, 47, and becoming a father for the first time. A little complicated though. The young lady that I was dating was not quite as thrilled. She was a career woman who had a path already etched in stone. I totally understood because that was my mindset in my 20s, 30s, 40s and now 47. I didn’t plan on this new development, but I had to admit that I was excited. I couldn’t stop thinking, “I’m going to be a father”. Will I be a good father? Am I prepared? Will I be as good as my dad was? Whatever the outcome, I felt I was ready. So, my girlfriend and I made the decision that I would be the sole parent and provider of our child, and she agreed to turn all parental rights over to me. Great. Let’s do it. So, I prepared a room in my house for my new child. This opened a world that I just never envisioned for myself. Six months into the pregnancy, we learned that there were some concerns about the baby. The doctor detected some developmental issues but couldn’t be sure until the actual arrival of the baby. By the way, we learned that we were going to have a son. My heart just exploded with pride. I was going to teach him everything that I knew. I decided on the name, Oliver, after my father. Everyone who saw me just saw my smile that extended from one ear to the next. I was so excited. Oliver arrived. Everything seemed fine. He slept through the night without any issues. I quickly learned how to change diapers and why you need to burp a baby immediately after a feeding. However, after several appointments, the doctor diagnosed Oliver with autism. Okay, I didn’t see this coming. Did he get the diagnosis right? Did he read the correct chart? Was he talking about my Oliver or someone else? The doctor just didn’t understand. This was the only child that I would ever have. This was my legacy. On top of that, I was rearing him by myself. No help from anyone. I’ve never been an emotional person, but I felt it, and I felt it all: FEAR. CONFUSION. HEAVINESS. DESPAIR. I knew that single parenting came with its challenges, but this was next level. I was 47. By the time Oliver turned 20, I would be 67. Would he be able to navigate this world? Would people try to take advantage of him? Would he understand how people operate, and would they understand him? Would anyone be able to see his kind
28
www.morethanawinnermagazine.com
win@morethanawinnermagazine.com
Made with FlippingBook - Share PDF online