Imagine the excitement of a toddler being on a slide. The pure joy of being able to climb that ladder and look down to see their mom, dad or loved one cheering them on. It’s almost a right of passage for families. All that would be missing is the white picket fence and s’mores on a summer night.
We had that. Sans the fence, we were there. As matter of fact, we had it twice. The first time with Evelyn and the second time with Cobe. Our two children who we took their achievements for granted. They hit the milestones that you would expect toddlers to reach. They both scooted/crawled, walked, climbed, jumped, had words, and could play just like any other child. It was the norm in our household not an expectation.
But was it?
Sawyer was the puzzle. It was fitting for his newfound profile. He couldn’t do all those things. He could only do fractions of some if any. It was heartbreaking. Heartbreaking to think that he was different. Heartbreaking to think milestones could be a pipe dream. Heartbreaking to watch our perception of what different was.
It was impossible not to hyper focus on what he couldn’t do. It was difficult not to blame Autism. It was an easy out. However, we were brand new to the Autism world. There wasn’t a manual that came with being on the spectrum.
I hoped for one. I really did. Many of nights I wouldn’t sleep because I’d didn’t know what life would be. I had dreams for him. I had it for all of them. However, my dreams had vanished. I didn’t even know what one could be for him anymore.