Something

Dear Addie,

It was 8 years ago this week that we left North Carolina, and while it wasn’t mommy and daddy’s first big move, it was our first as a party of 5.

Not gonna lie, while there's so much excitement with moving and new beginnings (I mean, we’ve done it a time or ten), this move quickly became the "if we can survive 6 weeks in a hotel with 3 kids, a dog, a cat (a kitty litter in a closet) and a fire alarm that goes off at least once a day - we can survive anything" move. (Side note: I kept a luggage cart in our room (shhhhh) so I could put the cat in a crate, you in a car seat, dog on a leash and the other two hanging on like a trolley cart, every time someone would burn toast in our building. The burnt toast would force us all outside to wait for fire dept. to give us the all clear. Addie fire trucks are cool to see, but they lose their luster when it's once or twice a week - just saying.)

We were healthy, but maybe not the happiest we’d ever been, and safe to say - we were stressed. But don't get me wrong, although stressed we knew we were blessed with work opportunities, and a roof over our heads, but just maybe said a few times ”why did we do this again?”

When I think back to then, we were clueless of all we’d experience before finding our way back to where we are today. You would essentially grow up on this gypsy life journey. Your baby years are such a blur to me now, because we were navigating so much ”newness” and it felt like someone hit the fast forward button at that! We didn’t know how much we would learn about who you were intended to be and how many questions we would get answered, only to have many more that will continue to leave us in wait. We’d discover that maybe some of our concerns weren't just in our heads - they really were something.

Your lack of language - was something.

Your patterned playing in a routine fashion wasn’t just cute and creative, but something.

Your screaming when hearing crying babies wasn't just crying out in sympathy with them, it was something.

Your lack of fear or pain, was something.

Your lack of need for physical contact like being held or cuddled, was something.

Your lack of sleep -- also something and not that you were part vampire - phew! (although I was always Team Edward)

There would be more and more ”somethings” and they would eventually get packaged into a name, Autism. Actually over the years you have been diagnosed and diagnosed always with the same result (and the strangers who would think this was a result of our gypsy lifestyle and continuous moving and finding new doctors were wrong) - it was always the same, Autism.

With all this came a healthy dose of denial and I’m only going to speak for me here. I myself like routine and have never been one for surprises, so just the thought of not knowing what this journey had in store for us was terrifying to me. It wasn’t denial of the diagnosis, I truly believed what we were hearing, but a type of denial I tried to buy into out of fear of the unknown. I didn't want this to be true, because selfishly I didn't think I could do this. I was also scared at what would happen if I failed somewhere along the way?

We’d soon learn this journey comes with a crowd of opinions. Therapy, medication, holistic symptom relief, what you should eat, what you shouldn't eat so on and so on. All this was (and is) up to us to choose your path - no pressure. What you're not prepared for is the scrutiny those choices cause.

I was scared, but you needed me, so I took a deep breath and we pushed forward.

You changed me Addie. I’m a better person now than I was before walking this journey.

You have been given this gift in a world that is forever chaotic and represents more challenges than not for you. You remind others of the simplicity life has to offer. To slow down and really appreciate, learn and enjoy the moments we are given (and those all too important breaths we take). To know we are all different and that’s what makes life better, fun (yes, exhausting sometimes) and interesting.

You my dear are making this world a better place every single day.

8 years ago we left here. We came back with an amazing amount of life lived, so many friends who are like our family full of endless love and support, and while we didn’t get back here with a crystal clear photograph of what's ahead, we do have a water colored picture before us, which is way more than we left with.

Love,

Mom