A Decision to MakeWhat do you do if there is a difficult decision to make, and this decision will affect your entire family and also what people think of you? Add the fact that whatever decision you make, it will feel like a mistake. These are the things I deal with when trying to decide whether or not to place my child in a family. My son is nine years old and suffers from autism, cerebral palsy and mental retardation. He was born prematurely and is seriously ill. Even though the odds were stacked against him, he made it. A year later, after his first MRI, we heard the words Cerebral Palsy for the first time. At the age of two I knew he was autistic but we couldn't get a diagnosis until he was seven. He was prescribed medications to alleviate his self-injurious behaviors and self-stimulation. Self-stimulation is a behavior that my son likes and can feel, but I don't care about it. My son was constantly banging his head, slapping himself and throwing up. It's hard to imagine appreciating these behaviors, but he does, and I certainly don't. We don't go on trips or in public unless my husband and I are present to help control his behavior and that of our other two children. He has been known to bite and scratch strangers, steal food from others' plates while eating out, and spill drinks. right above his head. My other kids don't have extracurricular activities because I can't control it myself. He can be violent, towards himself or others. On the other hand, he can be so sweet to a child that he doesn't need kisses or hugs, even if we give them anyway. The effort of caring for him can be exhausting and the responsibility is enormous. He knows no fear and has no concept of his own safety, so he must be constantly supervised. He won't do any activities of daily living, so we bathe him, brush his teeth, dress him, and change his diapers. Every door in our house has a lock that he can't reach, except the front door, which has four. Many people we have contact with have mentioned group homes, but for a long time I refused to even consider it. One day, as I was cleaning up vomit for the second time that day and after changing my fifth dirty diaper of the day, I burst into sobs..