Beautiful Boy

Before you go to sleep

Say a little prayer

Every day in every way

It's getting better and better

Beautiful Beautiful, beautiful....
Beautiful Boy

Out on the ocean sailing away

I can hardly wait

To see you to come of age

But I guess we'll both

Just have to be patient

Yes it's a long way to go

But in the meantime......

John Lennon

Yesterday, I did something that I usually don't do. I cleaned the house. I picked up the toys and assorted pieces of clothing that seem to perpetually litter our living room. I also put away the dozen or so DVDs that were strewn about the TV cabinet. That's when I saw it. It being the home movies we had converted from VHS to DVD.

I tried to resist the temptation to watch. Right after Justin was diagnosed I would watch this DVD over and over, using Ryan as a developmental yardstick to measure where Justin "should be". I stopped watching when I realized how torturous it was to see just how far behind Justin really was compared to his older brother.

And yet, here I was, alone in the house.....

I put the DVD in the player and watched.

And then I cried.

And when I say cried I mean big sloppy, wreak your make-up, catch your breath sobbing.

In the past, these movies always made me sad because it was always a reminder of how delayed Justin was. But, yesterday it made me sad for a different reason. Because as I sat and watched Justin in his first year and a half of life, I see a beautiful, happy and healthy boy. Completely "typical" with a face that was like sunshine. Then as the months go on, you can see the light slowly go out of his face. You can hear me calling from behind the video camera, "Justin, Justin. Look at mommy, Justin" only to be ignored.

As I watched, the thought that spun around my head was, "where the hell did my baby go?" Because he was there. He really was. So perfect and poised to develop into a typical toddler. Then, instead of leaping forward, he slowly slipped down the slope.

I was completely overwhelmed by just how much I missed that sweet happy baby. How much I missed our life when autism wasn't a word in my daily lexicon. And I wept.

I think what surprises me is just how raw it still is. Even after nearly two years of living with this diagnosis, it's still so tender, like a sprained ankle that never quite healed properly.

I took the DVD out and put it away. I know a day will come when I'll be able to watch it and not feel sad. I just wish I knew when that day would come.