Good and Hard Can Coexist—Especially Here

Life with our children doesn’t fall into neat little boxes like “good” or “hard.”

It’s not all good.
It’s not all hard.
It’s both.

And it’s usually both in the same day… sometimes in the same hour.

And no one understands that better than a mom raising children on the autism spectrum.

This life?
It’s beautiful.
It’s messy.
It’s heartbreaking.
It’s full of moments you never saw coming.

It will stretch you, break you open, and rebuild you—over and over again.

Raising a child with autism is wildly unpredictable. Some days feel like small miracles.
Other days feel like survival mode. And some days feel like both.

You can be so in love with your child and still cry behind closed doors.
You can feel proud and brokenhearted all at once.
You can celebrate a step forward—and still ache for what’s missing or what hasn’t come yet. You can advocate like their future depends on it and still fall into bed exhausted, second-guessing every decision you made.

That’s not failure. That’s real life for families like ours.

This journey is filled with moments most people never see.
The weight of decisions no one prepares you for.
And the exhaustion.
The worry.
The silence.

The stuff you don’t post about.
The stuff that feels too heavy to put into words.

Marriage in this life can feel like a team effort—
or like you’re carrying the whole team by yourself.
Sometimes in silence.
Sometimes with resentment you’re too tired to talk about.

Watching our children grow when we’re still working so hard on the basics—
like sleep, toileting, or communication—that’s hard in a different kind of way.

And watching our parents age, while still being the full-time caregiver for our kids?
That stretches us in ways most people will never understand.

There are seasons where it feels like the challenges never let up.
You start forgetting birthdays. Canceling plans.
Avoiding texts you don’t have the energy to answer.

You wonder where your old self went…
and if she’s ever coming back.

We have dreams too.
But sometimes, they get pushed aside. Quietly.
While we figure out how to make this life work.

But even in the middle of it all—there’s still good.

There’s good in the smiles that don’t come easily.
In the routines that finally stick.
In the calm after the storm.
There’s joy in the middle of the chaos.
There’s laughter that shows up at the most unexpected moments.
There’s that look in your child’s eyes when they know you “get” them.
And there’s peace that comes from finally accepting your life doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s.

It’s okay to feel the good and the hard at the same time.
You don’t have to choose one or the other.

I know you dream of ease. I do too.
But in this life, peace becomes the win.
Not because we stopped wanting ease— but because we learn, over time, that our real strength shows up in the hard.
And somehow, we keep going, even without the ease we imagined.

Even when it’s hard.
Even when it’s thankless.
Even when no one else sees all that you’re doing.

The goal?
It’s doing the very best you can with the hand you’ve been given—
even if it looks nothing like what you expected.

So to those of you who don’t live this life we live,
when you see the mom whose child is flapping in the grocery store aisle—
or pacing in circles, or scripting loudly under their breath—
offer a smile instead of a stare.

When you know a friend who’s gone quiet, text her anyway.
Tell her she’s doing an amazing job—because she probably hasn’t heard it in a while.
And she might just need a reminder that she matters too.

Because in our world?

Good and hard coexist every single day.
And learning to hold both—without shame or apology—
might just be the bravest thing we ever do.

This was written by Shannon Urquiola at Not Your Average Autism Mom.

Thank you for being part of our journey.