We’re coming up on the one-month mark for a new ADHD medication for our seven-year-old son, who’s also on the autism spectrum. It’s always tricky to be objective about tracing results back to causes, but so far, the results are encouraging.

For the first time, he’s asking open-ended questions. Questions that indicate a curiosity about how things work, from a car engine to the mechanism behind a video exhibit at a museum. He’s been able to curtail some of his impulses – like doing the puzzle he just opened– when I announced it was bedtime.

The tattoo I got for my son and daughter works for my husband and me, too.

It’s gratifying to see, not to mention a relief. After a bad experience with a different ADHD med last summer, the absence of negative

consequences is a positive in and of itself.

For me, though, it also provokes guilt. Because the only reason our son is on this medication is that his dad pushed for it.

Feeling burned by the first med, I resisted our doctor’s suggestions to try this one for almost six months. My husband didn’t oppose me, but gradually, after receiving input from school, he began his own low-key lobby. Finally, reluctantly, I agreed to try it.

And so far, it appears he was right and I was wrong. Thus the guilt. Did I deny our son six months of growth and progress because of my supermom proclivities? I’ll fix it/handle it/solve it myself. I don’t need any help from some drug.

This isn’t the first time my husband has been the ballast in parenting decisions. It goes way back to infancy, when we started part-time daycare. I felt like I should handle all the caregiving myself. That’s what a good mother does, after all. Even though I hated it and was going stir crazy at home all the time.  Mike took the reasonable approach. Let’s try it. It doesn’t have to be permanent.

Seven years, two kids and one sane mother on, it was by far the best decision for our family. Yet I still don’t know if I could have made that decision myself. So on this, my first post on Autism from a Father’s Point of View, I want to ask: What is it about dads? Is there something in the Y chromosome?  Is our dynamic reflected in your parental roles, too? And is it the balance that matters most, no matter who provides the yin and yang?

– Cari Noga is a writer in Michigan and mother to a son on the spectrum and a neurotypical daughter. You can read her blog here. In April she will publish Sparrow Migrations, a novel about a 12-year-old boy with autism who becomes obsessed with birds after witnessing the “Miracle on the Hudson.”