A Ceiling Became a Floor
The first time I went to an IEP meeting was in 2006.
My son Jack had just been diagnosed with autism. He was barely two years old.
I sat in a folding chair. I remember feeling nervous. I wasn’t sure where to put my hands. The room was stuffy.
We flipped through the reports. We reviewed goals and a timeline of dates. It dawned on me that IEP stands for Individualized Education Plan.
As the meeting came to a close, I felt a quiet unease.
I realized for over an hour, not a single person in that small, overheated room uttered my son’s name even once. He was simply a collection of characteristics on paper.
Limited eye contact.
Lack of joint attention.
Perseverative behavior.
Autism spectrum disorder.
Jack is seventeen now.
Last week, he was accepted into college.
After months of paperwork, research, phone calls, rejections, more paperwork, even more research, we found the right fit.
Located in the heart of a small city, it is a residential building with a lot of staff and support. He will live in a suite with five other students. They ski in winter. They have a full kitchen.
The building is within walking distance to three colleges where he can audit classes. He is thinking of restaurant management, or maybe broadcasting.
He can walk to the grocery store. He can walk to the movies. He can walk to get tacos.
He does love tacos, this boy of mine.
My son with autism got into college.
And just like that, a ceiling became a floor.
It’s been years since the wooden table and the stuffy conference room.
Years of chasing him through parking lots, walking him back to bed, explaining him to everyone I knew, packing headphones for fireworks, setting timers so he’d sit through dinner.
Years of meetings, and teams, and reports, and plans.
Years of reminding people to say his name. Please, say his name.
Now, my son is going to college.
I am equally thrilled and terrified.
Perhaps it seems impossible to have both feet so firmly planted in opposite emotional states, but I do.
Desperately, I long to hold onto this moment of victory like a dewdrop in the palm of my hand. I want to enjoy the breathing space.
Yet when it comes to autism, there is no breathing space. There are only next steps, more phone calls, a ticking clock, time you wish you could slow.
July.
That’s when he leaves, this boy who I chased and walked and explained.
It feels so far away, doesn’t it? Especially now, in February, as a thick white snow carpets the frozen ground.
Where will he get his hair cut?
What if he doesn’t get along with his roommate?
How is it possible that in five short months, as small children run through salty waves and the summer trees stretch tall and green, my son will pack his things and move out of this house?
These are the questions that plague me at four in the morning. These are the reasons I can’t fall asleep at night.
My son got into college. The paper boy of meetings passed has exceeded every expectation. I am unspeakably proud.
The truth is, this is a triumph for all of us.
It is a triumph for those of us who chase, and hope, and dream, and try.
Who sit in stuffy rooms and worry the diagnosis is all anyone sees.
Who bring photos of chubby-cheeked toddlers to the meetings, and share stories of sleepless nights and grocery store chases.
Who know, deep down inside, there will always be more ceilings, until you’re blinded by drywall.
It is a triumph to all of us who are raising a whirling dervish, a wild-child, a game-changer.
Who live this unexpected life with reckless grace, radical mercy, and a tender resilience.
It is for every single one of us who are bringing words to life in the shape of a child.
My son.
My sun.
July.
The truth is, he is on his own hero’s journey—one that is full of small steps forward, tiny steps backward, and a wildly brave heart.
“For Mom. I got in. I got into college.”
I am going to miss him the way a dark night misses the daylight.
My son.
My sun.
His name is Jack.

February 14, 2022 @ 8:25 am
Oh my gosh, I’m elated for you! Awesome! And scared with you at the same time. And I can still feel the kindergartner-sized chairs on which my husband and I sat for our first IEP meeting. Like. It. Was. Yesterday! I am so happy for you all.
February 14, 2022 @ 3:05 pm
I remember well the day we dropped off our son for college. Oh the emotions and processing we did. Thank you so much (as always) for sharing.
February 14, 2022 @ 8:35 am
I’m blown away.So happy for Jack and your family!
February 14, 2022 @ 8:52 am
Congratulations! Praying for a smooth transition and peace for your heart.
February 14, 2022 @ 8:54 am
What awesome news for you all!! He’ll be better than you!
February 14, 2022 @ 9:23 am
Congratulations to Jack, that’s excellent news. Well done on every stepping stone which has led to this milestone.
February 14, 2022 @ 9:24 am
I am actually crying years of joy for you for this moment. I am so happy that Jack has found his place…
With regard to the meetings, I always try to bring a photo of my kid (or with the virtual meetings, I send a picture) so that on some level there’s a recognition that we’re discussing a live, unique child, not just a diagnosis on paper.
February 14, 2022 @ 10:24 am
YES JACK!! So happy for you and him! I knew he could do it, you knew he could do it.
February 14, 2022 @ 10:32 am
Wow!! Are you able to share the name of the college? I have a son with similar needs as Jack, he’s a sophomore and I would love to hear more about this school.
February 14, 2022 @ 10:59 am
Congratulations to Jack from a teacher!!!
February 14, 2022 @ 12:20 pm
Congratulations to Jack & to you! I am a couple of years ahead of you on this next adventure. My son is currently a sophomore in college. “Thrilling & terrifying” is a fitting state of mind. I look forward to hearing more about this next step & please know we are out there reading that support & truly ‘get’ how you are feeling! Your beautiful essays always put what I am feeling into words that make sense & make me feel understood. Hugs and high fives to you!!
February 14, 2022 @ 12:48 pm
How exciting. Really, really exciting. I had been holding my breath hoping these past few weeks that Jack would be getting good news. Can’t wait to hear more about his new adventure as it unfolds.
February 14, 2022 @ 2:23 pm
Oh my gosh, congratulations. I know how thrilled, and yet scared, you must be. I have followed you for a long time. So many times you have put into words exactly how I am feeling. Thank you for sharing your journey. My son (diagnosed way back when with PDD-NOS) is currently a junior in high school…only one more year until he is an “adult”. I am terrified. You have given me hope. ❤️
February 14, 2022 @ 2:36 pm
Oh WOW!!! Congratulations. This gives me so much hope for my grandson who is 9 and he is autistic!! SO so great!!
February 14, 2022 @ 2:39 pm
Congrats to the whole family but especially Jack. It’s always a celebration and time of sadness when your child is accepted into college. I know it’s compounded for you but I’ll pray for the right and attentive support for Jack to be able to succeed! How far away from home will Jack be?
February 14, 2022 @ 3:27 pm
Hi! Can you tell me the name of this program/college that Jack got into? Congratulations! This is AMAZING! Way to go, Mama!
February 14, 2022 @ 5:04 pm
Wonderful news, Carrie. One thing I always insisted on with all these meetings regarding my daughter,(on a cue from her pediatrician), and still was able to until Covid when everything went video: She must be in attendance at the meetings so they could face her as they would speak about her. I really felt that it made a big difference in the administrators’ attitudes. (This might be a suggestion for you younger parents/caregivers.)
February 14, 2022 @ 11:33 pm
Bravo Jack, Bravo to everyone around you.
February 15, 2022 @ 8:45 am
Yeah!!!! CONGRATULATIONS JACK and to your wonderful family. I have been hoping and praying for your wonderful news. Best of luck and look forward to many more updates.
February 18, 2022 @ 1:21 pm
Oh my gosh, that is AWESOME!!! Yay Jack! I’m so incredibly, INCREDIBLY proud of him!!
You don’t know me, Carrie, but I’ve been a huge fan of yours for years. I’ve been reading your blog since 2014. I don’t even remember how I stumbled across it, actually, now that I think about it — I don’t have any friends or family members with autism — but however I found it, I’m glad I did. Your beautiful, sincere, eloquent weekly posts about your family and the joys and struggles that come with raising a child on the autism spectrum have taught me so much. I’ve never left you a comment before, but I was so excited when I read that Jack finally got accepted into college, I knew I had to reach out and congratulate you (and Jack of course!).
I also just want to thank you for all you’ve taught me through your blog posts these past eight years. I have learned so much about the importance of kindness, empathy, sincerity, acceptance, keeping an open mind and embracing others who have different ways of thinking and communicating.
Congrats again to both you and Jack on this huge milestone. I’m so proud of him! 😄
Sincerely,
Daile