Falling in Love with Reality

To the boy that grew only in my heart,

I still think about you sometimes. Not as often as I did in the beginning. But sometimes when things get lonely and dark you wander into my mind.

You stand there smiling at me.

Sometimes you talk to me and tell me all the things you love.

Sometimes you show me your favorite toys.

Sometimes you teach your little brother things and I watch him look up to you in awe as you take care of him.

Sometimes you play with us and it’s so easy and I don’t have to choose to play with only one of my kids at a time.

Sometimes you tell me you love me with words.

You were everything I had ever dreamed of since the moment I found out I was pregnant. And then, just like that, you were gone.

“I think it’s autism” were the words that stole you from me.

I searched for you for a long time after that. I would think about you all the time. With every improvement and step forward I felt you coming back to me.

Then 6 months after hearing those words a child psychologist said, “I am giving the diagnosis of autism”. And it was then I realized you were never my little boy.

I never held you, I never kissed you, I never tucked you into bed.

I knew the diagnosis was coming. In fact, I wanted it. I wanted there to be a reason for all the delays.

I wanted an answer to all of our questions. As you faded from reality in that little office, I looked down at the boy on the floor.

He had the dump truck upside down and was spinning the wheels.

One more week and he would be 2 years old. He had not yet pushed a truck like you would have, he would only spin their wheels.

I didn’t cry in that office. I waited until we got to the truck.

We both did, my husband and I. It was tough to process that entire day. It was hard to finally admit you were never behind those precious dimples.

I had to grieve you although you never truly existed. I felt guilty about it at first but I learned that this was very normal.

I still sometimes continue to grieve you. Especially on days like today.

I took Kade shopping with me and I had to hold onto both his hands the whole time to keep him from hitting me and compulsively laughing at his fingers.

I also had to hold his head to keep him from banging it on the cart. He screamed a lot and a lot of people were staring.

He’s almost too big to ride in the cart and I don’t know what I’m going to do when he can’t ride in one anymore.

I wanted to take him for a coke after our errand but I couldn’t because his stimming took him into his own world and I couldn’t get him to stop laughing.

Grabbing a coke would have sent us both over the edge. It’s times like these I wonder what it would be like to take you on errands and for special treats.

But in the last 4 years, and especially through our autism journey, there is something I have learned. Something very important.

I created you for me. I long for you for my own selfish reasons. Before having kids I thought having kids was for myself, to make me happy, to complete my life and my family that I’ve always dreamed of. But it’s not. It’s so much more.

I created you in my mind and heart for me but God created Kade not only for me and our family but for the world.

I thought you up for little reasons that make me happy and Kade is made for big reasons.

Big important reasons. God has assigned him his own roll in the world, a roll that doesn’t always include me, a roll that not only changes and strengthens me but that changes and strengthens others.

So, while I still think about you, the child I thought I had, I realize Kade has always been Kade and I always loved him.

I’ve always rocked him and kissed him and giggled with him. I never lost you, I never had you. And it’s taken me almost 2 years to accept that. But as my son grows he teaches me so much.

So much more than you ever could. He teaches me what really matters, and shows me a glimpse of the big plans he has to teach the world. He has introduced us to a whole new side of the world.

A side that often is forgotten and discriminated against. He has allowed me to grow into his advocate which also opens doors to advocate for others.

At almost 4 years old his purpose is big and he’s making my purpose in the world bigger than I could have imagined.

I dreamed of you but Kade is more than I ever could have dreamed of.

Sincerely,

Me

Written by, Sarah McWhorter

I’m Sarah! Elementary school teacher turned stay-at-home mommy of 2 boys. My oldest has autism and is non verbal. This is a life I never would have asked for but now that I have it I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I believe we all are created to fit specific purposes in life and sometimes that means some get to be superheroes and some of us get to be those superhero’s moms.

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