My timeline became mashed together as I began to look back. I could vividly recall Sawyer’s birth. I remember Kellie insisting that the kids didn’t look like ragamuffins when I brought them to meet him for the first time in the hospital (which i apparently wasn’t successful at). I even remember 2 year old Cobe getting the biggest kick in asking for chocolate pudding just minutes after meeting his baby brother.
The problem was after those events took place, It was like a coma. I was only awake through pockets of three years. I remember the highs and the lows but only through my own lenses.
The most difficult part of life at that time was I had zero balance. I loved my children, I loved Kellie but love was hardly enough to get past the emotions under our household. Words were just words as actions were few but far between.
All I can remember was being in the car one day as a family. It had to be at least 2 months after we received Sawyer’s diagnosis. I know Kellie and I had talked about the right time to tell the kids about Autism.
We mutually agreed that we wouldn’t shelter them from Sawyer’s world. Unbeknownst to them both, their guidance and modeling of behaivor would be a huge support to him. Whereas their love, support, and empathy could unfairly break our home.
So there we were just driving along. Just talking about nothing of substance. We just happened to be in the same place, at the same time, and for all accounts, the right time to share news that without the kids knowing would become a building block to our future as a family.
I remember Kellie asking the kids questions. I remember the kids asking if he would be OK. I remember listening to Evie ask if she could catch Autism like an illness. And it’s all I can recall from nearly 30 minutes of conversation. As hard as I tried, I just couldn’t attend like I wanted. It was blurred vision at its best.