This would have to go into the 'no sh*t" category, as far as I'm concerned.
It is never hard to parent Anthony, it is never hard to be his mother. It's harder to be Maria's mother, I swear! It is the easiest thing in the world for me to love him. But it is hard to be the person that cares for Anthony and is his only voice in the world, long past when a mother of a typical child would need a voice. It is hard to have your heart broken daily when you see another, younger child, speaking and communicating and most of all, enjoying their normal life, and wonder if Anthony will ever have that. It is hard to not know when Anthony's next freakout is going to come and worse, it is hard to not know how to help him. It is hard to have him look me in the face and say "oweee" and not know what hurts, or if it is even in a place where I can reach it to kiss it and make it better. It is hard to feel so helpless when you are supposed to be the one that can help, that can make it better.
When I was little, my brother Larry got sick and I know that it was very hard on my parents and other adults in my family, because they didn't know what was wrong with him for a long time. They didn't know if he would survive it, or if we would all get it, or what. I feel bad even worrying about my problems with Anthony when there are people with bigger problems, MUCH bigger problems. But I do sometimes feel vindicated when I read a study like this, because at least it means that someone knows what we are going through, and what we are all trying to do for our kids.