Senior year is supposed to be about celebration—the final chapter of high school, the “young, wild, and free” moments everyone dreams about. But for me, it was anything but ordinary. Imagine your entire life changing just as you’re about to live what’s meant to be the most carefree, exciting year of your life. Only a month into senior year, I found out I was pregnant. My heart sank. The weight of the stigma of teen motherhood hit me instantly. I mourned the loss of the senior year I had imagined. I cried. I laughed. I worried. I persevered. And then, I did the unthinkable.
The morning after walking across the stage to receive my diploma—while in active labor—I arrived at the hospital already 7 centimeters dilated. Hours later, I held my beautiful baby boy, Zayden, in my arms for the first time. The tiny life I had carried for nine months was finally here, and he was perfect. I had never felt such awe and love. A single day after leaving high school, I became responsible for a new life. I vowed to continue my education and create a bright future for him. I realized I had control over our future—until I didn’t.
By the time Zayden was 17 months old, I noticed differences. He was a popular little loner, happily surrounded by cousins who begged to play with him, yet he preferred his own company. He would flap his hands repetitively and make unusual sounds. I worried, but I convinced myself he might “grow out of it.”
Then came the speech delay. One day he said “mama,” and the next day, it was gone. Every small setback hit me like a punch to the gut. I hated myself for not savoring every moment. But I knew I couldn’t let fear paralyze me—a little boy depended on me to be his voice until he could speak for himself again.
Those early concerns pushed me to speak with his pediatrician, who referred us to a psychologist. That’s when I heard the words I never wanted to hear: my son has autism. I felt angry at myself, questioning my parenting. Had I done something wrong? But I realized that dwelling in self-blame would only rob Zayden of what he deserved—early intervention, love, and advocacy. I held onto hope, even as my emotions swayed between highs and lows. I’m not perfect, but I strive to be present—for both him and myself.
It’s been almost a year since his diagnosis, and life has been busier than I ever imagined—but every moment is worth it. I chose better over bitter, triumph over tragedy, and let our test become my testimony. I travel 30 minutes twice a week for therapy sessions, sacrifice pieces of what I thought my life would be, and commit myself entirely to ensuring Zayden thrives.
Becoming a mother at a young age forced me to grow up fast, and by 20, I was more mature than I ever expected. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. Through this journey, I found a platform and a purpose: helping other mothers facing similar circumstances feel empowered, supported, and hopeful.
My emotions poured onto my phone first, then onto paper, and eventually became a story I am proud of. I Love You Beyond Words tells the story of a little boy who communicates differently, yet is just as special, just as “au-some,” and just as deeply loved as any other child. A diagnosis like autism can bring fear, uncertainty, and questions like, “Why my child? How will we handle this? Will they ever fit in?” I felt all of that too, but I chose gratitude instead of fear, thankfulness instead of despair. I am honored to be the sacrificial lamb for this little boy, and my love for him knows no limits.
The book was released on May 19, and both Zayden and our story have been flourishing ever since. I hope it serves as a reminder of unconditional love for my son and as encouragement for other parents navigating similar paths. I will continue to raise awareness, be a voice for the voiceless, and ensure Zayden—and children like him—know they are seen, valued, and celebrated.
