By Stephanie Duesing

I didn’t know my son Sebastian until he was 15. That was the year we had our first real Mother’s Day celebration. We lived in the same house together for 15 years, so don’t misunderstand. I gave birth to him. I changed his diapers and taught him to ride a bicycle.
I was a stay-at-home mom, and he was my only child, but I didn’t know him. We spent hours together every day playing and doing crafts together. He painted the most extraordinary pictures, even as a toddler. His existence filled my imagination from the moment that I looked at the faint blue positive mark on the pregnancy test, but I still didn’t know him until he was a sophomore in high school. Continue reading “My Son Has an Invisible Disability. On Mother’s Day, I Celebrate Seeing Him.”







