Dear Little One,
Today marks a special milestone: your 4th birthday, Alex! I can hardly believe how fast you’ve grown. Watching you laugh and play with your friends fills me with a mix of joy and gratitude. I want to share some thoughts with you, even if you may not grasp them just yet. Someday, when I’m older, I hope you’ll read this letter and understand.
I am profoundly grateful to have you as my son and your brother, Ethan’s, sibling. Together, you both have brought an immense amount of joy into my life. I want to confess something that few people know: when I learned I was pregnant with you, I was overwhelmed with fear and anxiety. I shed tears and felt a weight of uncertainty.
Ethan was just two years old, and I was struggling to support him. I was constantly seeking therapies and specialists, feeling lost and inadequate. The looming diagnosis of severe, nonverbal autism was a shadow I couldn’t escape. Each day felt like a battle as I tried to maintain the illusion of normalcy in our lives.
Then, one Saturday morning, it happened. After sleepless nights with Ethan, I took a pregnancy test, and it confirmed my suspicion. I was terrified. My world already revolved around supporting Ethan, and I feared how I could possibly manage another child.
As the months passed, I found myself awake at night, consumed by worry about the possibility of raising two children with autism. But then you arrived, Alex. You were perfect. You slept, laughed, and thrived, bringing a sense of balance back into our family.
You saved me. Your presence reminded me of the joys of motherhood that I had almost forgotten. As I navigated the challenges of autism with Ethan, you were there, exploring the world with wonder. You achieved milestones that filled my heart with pride, and while it was sometimes painful to see you surpass your brother in many ways, it also brought me immense joy.
I recognize that having Ethan as a brother can be frustrating for you. There are days when your interactions with him are limited to moments of chaos and confusion. Autism is a complex puzzle, and I see the questions on your face. There are times when you reach out to him, hoping for a response, and I know how hard that must be for you.
I am sorry for the challenges you face. You are such a social child, and I can see how you seek my attention when Ethan is unresponsive. Part of me wishes you didn’t know about autism at such a young age, but I also believe that understanding adversity is a gift in its own right. You are learning valuable lessons about empathy and resilience.
There are moments I regret missing significant parts of your life. Just recently, I forgot the year you were born during a routine check-up, and it broke my heart. It’s a reminder of how easily I can become lost in the whirlwind of caring for Ethan. I’ve had to shush your endless questions at times, simply because I was overwhelmed by the noise of our life.
But I cherish the moments you share with me. I remember one day during a social worker’s visit when you gently held my face and asked, “Can we talk about Ethan for a little bit?” It was a moment that struck me deeply, and I want you to know that I am always here to listen.
I want to thank you for your strength, my sweet boy. Our life can be challenging and sometimes frightening. You often receive the remnants of my energy after caring for Ethan, and for that, I am truly sorry. I know I spoil you at times, but it’s only because I want to give you the love and attention you deserve.
There are days when my heart aches with guilt. I worry about your future, about how you’ll care for Ethan when I’m no longer here. I want you to have your own life, filled with love, friendships, and adventures. But I also hope you will embrace your brother and protect him, whatever that may look like.
However, today, we celebrate you. Today, autism takes a back seat to the joy of your existence. I want to teach you the values of kindness, love, and patience. I want you to fight for what is right and to understand that disabilities are not something to fear. Most importantly, I want you to be happy and to embrace your brother for who he is.
There’s a world out there that holds endless possibilities for you, and I can’t wait to see where it leads you.
With all my love,
Dr. Sarah