Adjusting to life without Brielle at home has been a profound journey. Despite the emotional turmoil, I find solace in knowing she is thriving in her group home, embraced by caring staff. Yet, the haunting stories of neglect fuel our worries, reminding us of our vigilant love and advocacy.

Am I OK? How do I answer that? Right now I feel like I will never be OK. My 23-year-old daughter is moving into a group home in days, and I’m not OK. Externally, I guess I’m OK. I woke up today, I didn’t cry. I got stuff done. I just packed another suitcase full of Brielle’s belongings. Her comfy t-shirts and sweatpants, some toys and stuffed animals she hasn’t touched in years.

I wish we could cure autism. I understand that some people may not believe autism needs to be cured, and I respect that. Autism is a wide spectrum, and I know it well. There are many incredible people in the world with a type of autism that makes them unique, talented, special, and amazing. My two kids with autism are unique, talented, special, and amazing.

After seven years as New Jersey’s government advocate for individuals with developmental disabilities, Paul Aronsohn is still struck by the indifference. Year after year, Aronsohn brings attention to heartbreaking stories of disabled individuals abused in group homes and neglected on buses; families desperate to keep their violent children with severe autism from hitting them and themselves; parents struggling to access services in a state that has plenty of them.

When Mary gave birth to identical twin sons on Christmas Eve in 1988, she felt like she had won the lottery. But within two years, she knew her boys were not developing like others their age. Robert and James didn’t seem to notice if Mary was upset, nor did they miss her when she wasn’t home. They didn’t interact with each other and behaved as if they were deaf.

Do I wish she didn't have autism? You bet I do.

U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. told President Donald Trump that his agency will have information about what's causing autism within weeks.

Imagine having to build a padded room in your home to keep your daughter safe.

We visited her future group home this week. I wanted to hate it. No such luck. It was everything I could have wanted for my daughter, if I ever dreamed of her moving out. I don’t know that I did. But if I did, I would have wanted a big beautiful home in light colors with bright artwork on the walls.

I made the decision years ago to do everything possible to get Brielle into residential placement while I was still on this earth. At 23 years old, Brielle is a bit young, in my opinion, to move out.

I drive with my left hand on the wheel and my right on my daughter in the back seat. My husband scolds me for it. He can pound sand. Brielle usually just humors me by holding my hand loosely for maybe a minute if I’m lucky. In recent weeks, she’s been holding on longer. Just yesterday, she grabbed my hand and held it so tight I thought there was something wrong.

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Autism consumes us, so much so that when non-autism trauma happens in our lives, it throws us. It pushes us to the very edge of our sanity. I haven't written in a while, but I knew April was coming. I pledged I would write every day in April, as I have done in the past. Because I'm determined to open eyes and share our side of autism.

The Energy Department is seeking to bring back nuclear energy specialists after abruptly telling hundreds of workers that their jobs were eliminated, according to two people familiar with the matter.