Smiles, Tears, and the Medication Question Nobody Warns You About

We were always apprehensive about medication. With Carlos, our eldest, we didn’t choose to medicate until high school, when the subjects finally got complex enough that he needed the extra support to focus, remember, and process.

But every special need journey is different, and with Coah, the conversation started at the young age of five. This boy was off the walls, always running at 100 miles an hour, always finding some new shenanigan to get into. Safety became the issue we couldn’t ignore anymore.

When Safety Became the Issue We Couldn’t Ignore

The turning point came in a span of about three months. On one of our wedding anniversaries, he jumped off the couch, missed his footing on a stool, and busted his lip wide open. We spent our anniversary evening in the emergency room instead, watching our cutie get stitches, what a
romantic night that turned out to be.

Then about two months later came the moment that still scares me to think about: he ran straight into a busy parking lot, and it was my late sister-in-law who managed to grab him and redirect him back onto the sidewalk before anything worse happened.

What got me every time was what came right after, the second the impulsive moment passed, he’d catch himself, oh no, I’m so sorry, I can’t do that, and he would almost lecture himself before we could even react. It was never that he didn’t know right from wrong or safe from unsafe. He knew. He just couldn’t control the urge to act before he could stop himself. That was when we knew something had to change.

Making the Medication Decision With Our Neurologist

There was concern, there was guilt, and there was a lot of research. Our neurologist never once
pressured us. He laid out the options, explained what he’d recommend and why, and then told us to go think about it, research it, and research it more before deciding anything.

When Charles and I finally sat with it, it came down to one thing: his safety had to come first. Since then, it’s been a winding road of finding what actually works for a kid who also carries severe anxiety, and I mean real anxiety, the kind where his little mind can spiral like a car payment is due in four days and he has no idea how he’s going to cover it.

When the Medication Didn’t Feel Right

In our world, everything is fine until it isn’t, everything works until it doesn’t, and medication has been no exception. Some things worked for a while and then quietly stopped. One had a reaction that turned my sweet boy into Coah the Hulk, and I will never forget him looking at me and asking, Mommy, why is this medicine helping me study but making me feel weird? That question broke something open in me.

Starting Over and Finding What Worked

Eventually we hit pause and started over from scratch, this time leaning into non-stimulant options, anxiety support, supplement drops, a lot of emotional guidance at home, and honestly, a hope and a prayer. It turned out to be the best decision we could have made.

Our neurologist’s patience through every transition, every adjustment, every setback, has been worth more than I can put into words. And now, I feel like I have my son back. He’s smiling. He’s cuddly. He’s less anxious, more talkative, social to the extent he’s able to be. There are still moments of impulse, which feels almost funny to say out loud because kids on the spectrum are supposed to crave routine, right? There are still bloopers along the way.

But we worked for this, through the smiles, through the laughs, through more tears than I can count, until we found what works for him. And it’s working, for now.

I say for now because that’s the honest truth of this journey. Hormones shift, bodies change,
brain chemistry evolves, and I know his needs may shift again right along with them.

What I do know is that whatever comes next, we’re in it together, as a team, me, Charles, Coah, and the medical providers who have walked every step of this with us and who we genuinely could not do this without.

If you’ve sat with the guilt, the fear, or the relief that comes with the medication decision,
comment below, we understand this road, and we’re here for every part of it with you.

This is one family’s personal experience, not medical advice. Do not start, stop, or change medication or supplements without speaking with your child’s qualified healthcare professional. Children can respond differently, and treatment decisions should be individualized.