Feelings of pride and gulit.

Today was a big day for my baby girl. She learned to pull herself to a stand and how to applaud her efforts! Watching a baby clap for the first time always brings a smile to my face. I don’t know if it’s because I automatically start singing “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands” or if it’s just that babies are so darn cute, especially when they learn something new.

As I watched the giant grin on my baby girl’s face, encouraging her to clap, I got this sudden feeling that I have yet another thing to work on as a mother. You see, my second born, who was diagnosed with autism last June, didn’t start to clap until he was 19 months. Our daughter is 10 months. At the time that my second born learned to clap, I knew it was later than typical – one of the many red flags that led to an early diagnosis. Today, as I watched my baby girl do something so seemingly easy for her, I couldn’t help but compare her to C. Immediate I was flooded with feelings of guilt. I know how important it is to treat our children as individuals, to help them develop their God given personalities and abilities. I know how dangerous it can be to compare our children and how it leads to the slippery slop of favoritism. I don’t want to be THAT parent, who values one child over another.

It was then that I began to realize that my comparison was causing a battle in my heart. On one side my heart was breaking for Mr. C and his daily challenges – even clapping was a struggle he once faced. I want so desperately to hold my baby boy and make life easier for him. I think back to all the times over the period of several months that I would take his two hands and clap them together, hoping and praying he would do it on his own – until he finally did.

On the other side I look at my baby girl who learned to clap on her own, with little instruction or manipulation from me. I’ve probably only clapped her hands together on a half a dozen occations. I see her effortlessly become confident in something that was so difficult for C. I am happy for H and ever so proud, but I also feel relief. Relief that with every milestone she reaches I can say with certainty that at THIS point she is typically developing. My relief brings guilt as I wonder if it means I am bad mother. Am I a bad mother for being so happy and relieved that daughter can do things so easily that my youngest son cannot?

I cannot help but wonder if my fear of my daughter showing signs of autism somehow means that I don’t love C enough, that somehow I want to change him. I know this fear comes from a heart that breaks for my son. I want so desperately for life to be easy for him. And if C were different, maybe he could tell me what he needs and I wouldn’t feel as helpless and useless as a mother.

A dear friend of mine, while trying to teach her little ones an important lesson, in turn actually taught ME the lesson. “You get what you get and you don’t get upset”. At this point in his life, Cayleb doesn’t seem to be upset in the least by his autism. He just goes through life working really hard to face and overcome his challenges; allowing his challenges to build character.

I am learning that a big challenge set before me as a mother, is to love my kids during their difficult moments, love them as they struggle through their challenges – that’s when showing my kids unconditional love is most important – AND when they learn to clap at no matter what age that happens.