The Day He Passes You

I absolutely love being a boy mom. Race cars, dirt, and ornery smiles.

I had just found out we were pregnant that week with our second blessing.

We were sitting on the couch after my oldest sons evaluation awaiting to hear the words I already knew were coming. “You’re son is on the spectrum”.

My sweet toddler. Laying on the floor with a car on top of his chest. Spinning the wheels.

Months later we find out the baby is a boy. Our second boy. Spinning car wheels flash in my head again.

Seeing two boys racing cars together in the hallway. Laughing at each other and loudly making car sound effects.

Yelling, “mom, say ready-set-go!”

I remember thinking once he starts therapy he will immediately start talking. He will want to play with other children.

Everything he is struggling with will just disappear because he will be in therapy. He will love holding and playing with his baby brother.

I didn’t know much about autism then. I didn’t understand. I know now.

I know that we work hard to gain milestones that other families wouldn’t even recognize as milestones.

I know how much I long for my son to speak and how much he longs to be heard.

I see how hard it is for him to regulate his body. To focus.

I feel an ache for him to hold his baby brother. That baby who is now 6 months old. That future vision of my boys racing cars together has now turned into a question.

Will he play with his brother?

Will he yell “mom, say ready-set-go” will he be signing ‘go’ in the incredibly cute way he signs it now? Signing go for his brother to race him.

I see my 6 month old crawling, clapping, and babbling.

I see him reach for his big brother. Wanting him to play with him. To look at him.

I hear my family on the phone ask, “Is that Tristan or Everett talking in the background?” My heart breaks.

Is it really difficult to distinguish my 3 year olds babbling from my 6 month olds?

The day this sweet baby passes his older brother will be bittersweet. I am always cheering him on. Amazed by him and his rate of learning.

My heart will break when he passes him by. His older brother. I’m fearful the day is near.

Can my heart handle it? Will Big brother realize it?

When he passes him by I hold a strong hope that big brother will quickly follow! Learning from him and having someone to lovingly lead the way.

They both have things to teach each other. They both have their own strengths. Their own beautiful way of seeing the world.

Please sit in the hall and play cars together. Race each other and let me hear your ornery laughs.

Teach each other patience, how to soak in small details, how to take turns, how to roll cars on your chest, how to make sound effects, how to properly line them up.

You both have so much to give.

Keep racing my sweet boys.

There will be bumps along the way, but you will make it. When one breaks down, stop and help the other.

Just keep going.

Your father and I will always be there cheering you both on.

Ready.

Set.

Go!

Written by, Annie Velasco

We are a military family currently residing in Florida. Our son was diagnosed with Autism a year ago. He is a super happy child who has a love for animals-especially horses. There are many things I need to teach my son, but he is my teacher as well. We are constantly trying to learn and advocate!

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