Five whole years before Gooli, there was Santi. There was a typical family with a typical new born, 1 year old, 2 year old… Don’t get me wrong- we were as quirky as ever, but Autism was not a word that held any special meaning for our family yet. Dad and I thought long and hard about having another child. After all, we were spread so thin already! (Ha!, hindsight). One reason pushed us over the edge into deciding to try for baby #2- “for” Santi. We wanted him to grow up with the companionship of a sibling. He was the center of our world, and we shuddered to think that we were somehow depriving him of bunk beds, playing tag, sharing infectious laughter, etc. with the person we hoped he’d be closest to in the whole world. Sure, we knew that it would not all be laughter. There would be sibling rivalry, jealousy, and even the possibility that 5 years apart would create a distance between them that they would only overcome in adulthood.

We were not prepared (in general) for the possibility that we might fall outside of this typical picture. I’ve shared this in previous posts. In hindsight, it feels foolish to have never considered this possibility- but we didn’t (see previous posts for more context). When Gooli was first diagnosed, and the years that followed, one of the things that weighed heaviest on my heart was seeing Santi and Gooli interact. Santi worked so hard to play with his brother. He was so patient. And was met mostly with rejection. To be perfectly transparent, he was also met with scolding from Dad and I. When Gooli was calm, why did Santi have to poke at him?! (unleashing a tantrum that could last for what seemed like forever). Not our proudest parenting moments. I try to cling to some self compassion for us as parents- we were really dealing with more than we were prepared for.

In those moments (YEARS actually), I wondered if Santi would ever have that special sibling bond we dreamed for him. Again, if I’m perfectly honest, I also felt an incredible amount of guilt. The first years of Santi’s life were full of outings and adventures, or quiet mornings watching cartoons and eating cereal. Two years after his brother was born, his life was one of captivity and of constant chaos and stress. Much of his time away from school was spent at home, waiting patiently for Gooli’s in-home therapy (30+ hours of it) to end. If I let my mind wonder into the future, I felt even more guilty. What will happen when Dad and I are gone? (I tried then, and try now, not to get ahead of myself and to leave the future in the future).

The End.

Wouldn’t that be the most terrible post ever?! Ya’ll know where this is going. Things have shifted. I would say approximately two years into the ASD diagnosis, when Gooli was 4, we started to see a shift. Gooli was more interested in playing. Just as important, Santi progressively learned how to join his brother in activities that make Gooli happy. The boys don’t play the way you might expect a typical 11 and 6 year old to play- but they play! Most importantly as their Mama- they adore each other. I leave you with pictures of them- Gooli climbing Santi for safety because he saw a dog on the beach (dog phobia), Gooli asking Santi for snuggles while they watch TV, and Santi trying to keep up with Gooli’s superhuman climbing skills.

(I should have labeled this post “how it started/ how it’s going”).