Precious moments

Sometimes life stands still for a few seconds and I capture a "precious moment". I seem to have had several this week and they have taken me unawares, hitting an emotional core I didn't realise I had, making me well up and take a deep breath, making me deeply grateful for all that I have.

When we first decided to have another baby, still blissfully unaware of all James' difficulties and the path that we were going to follow, we imagined providing him with a sibling, a lifelong companion, a playmate, someone to share his childhood with. In the months that followed his regression and diagnosis, I found myself in some very dark places, wondering whether we had done the right thing in having another child. His autism became apparent around the time of Bea's birth and while I don't blame her (or us) for that, I wonder if we'd be treading this same path if she hadn't been born then. On the other hand, we never had to struggle with that difficult decision to have another child KNOWING he was autistic. I didn't spend my whole pregnancy concerned that I would have another autistic child. I enjoyed my second pregnancy more than my first, and felt much less unwell and exhausted. But once James' problems became apparent, my downward spiral started - I watched Bea constantly, trying to see if there were any early indicators that she too might be autistic. She slept well and soundly, and was a quiet, content baby - I worried. She was happy to watch what was going on around her, but was not particularly vocal - I worried. She loved rough and tumble play, spinning round, going upside down - I worried. She often failed to respond when I called her name - I worried. I think I have only just stopped worrying now - I see her running around with her doll, having tea parties, making "stories" up, using her imagination, looking directly at me when she talks, using long sentences with personal pronouns and I think "gosh, I think we're almost out of the woods". Then she starts on a jigsaw - not a 6 piece or inset jigsaw for her, no she's tackling 24 piece jigsaws and managing with little effort. And the niggle of doubt comes back.

Regardless of any autistic features she may or may not show, she has recently become a hugely important figure in James' life. When she was relatively "new" we tried to bath the children together - James would automatically turn his back on her, attempting to ignore her presence altogether, only interacting on his own terms (well, what we did was sung "If you're happy and you know it kiss your sister" which he duly did!!!). I spent hours crying my eyes out, convinced she would never be able to forge a relationship with him as he would avoid her at all costs. But recently I have had many a "precious moment" as I see more and more sibling interaction - Bea will take has hand and walk by his side when we are out and about. He enjoys her presence on the trampoline and I have fought back tears when I have seen him holding out his hand to her and then smiling his beautiful smile as she takes is and they start a "game". I don't understand the rules of this game, I don't even know if there are any, but the squeals of laughter and the look of delight on both of their faces shows me that they are sharing a "precious moment" of their own. The other day Bea told me that "James couldn't talk" because "James is different" - I was speechless. I often tell her that James is autistic and can't talk, but I wasn't sure how much she understood. Clearly more than I thought.

Perhaps the week's highlight was yesterday evening. I was absent mindedly blowing into a bottle to create a muscial note, a throwback to my days as a flautist, and James picked up his lidded beaker and started blowing on the spout and making direct eye contact with me. I think this is the first time in over a year I can put my hand on my heart and say he actually "copied" me. A very precious moment.