Jasper Sterling Tuft

Now that the dust has settled and we're returning to our new normal, I finally have the time and bandwidth to write out Jasper's story. It's really therapeutic for me to do this and hopefully it's helpful for others to read!

Jasper's pregnancy started with a miscarriage scare. I had some spotting that was unusual for me, so we went in for an ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy. The ultrasound didn't show a viable baby which was really hard to hear. After discussing a few options, we decided to wait a week to see if my body would miscarry on its own and to proceed with the bloodwork to check hCG levels. I didn't have any spotting or bleeding the entire next week, which was both concerning and odd. My bloodwork came back and showed that my hCG levels were rising, indicating a healthy pregnancy. We went in for another ultrasound and low and behold, there was a nine week baby growing happy and healthy. It was totally a surprise, especially because the ultrasound the previous week should've shown something at least.

I think I was really drained from all of that back and forth because it took me a bit to start scheduling prenatals. I really loved my experience at Two Leaves with Anson but for some reason I kept wondering if there was another birth center we should check out. A quick Google search pulled up The Birth Center in Murray. They accepted our insurance and had really great reviews so we decided to check it out. The initial tour was wonderful and it just felt really right. This birth center had a few more medical conveniences available that were nice but not necessarily something I felt like I needed. I hemmed and hawed between the two birth centers until 16 weeks along and then finally decided on The Birth Center and tried not to dwell too much on why I felt like I needed something different this time.

The pregnancy went really well physically, though in hindsight I realized that I was experiencing some pregnancy depression. My inability to decide between which birth center to go with should've been a tipoff; I've never been indecisive. I was also really terrified of labor this time around. The last three weeks leading up to my due date were fraught with panic attacks and awful nightmares. It was beyond frustrating to deal with because I felt like I shouldn't be this nervous by my fifth go around. I couldn't pinpoint one exact thing I was scared about which meant I couldn't work through anything. I immersed myself in my Hypnobabies training, prayed a lot, read a lot of positive birth stories, and just tried my best to accept the inevitable.

My due date was May 27th. All that week I hadn't been sleeping well at all due to my nerves and just being massively pregnant. We had a prenatal that day and I was dilated to a 4 and about 80% effaced. I wasn't eager to get labor started and going past my due date with Anson definitely helped me have more patience this time. I arranged for the kids to spend the night at my in-laws in hopes of getting a really solid nights sleep. I did NOT want to start labor off being as tired as I was. 

At 10pm, Kyle was on his way home from dropping off the kids and I was hit with an insane urge to clean everything. For an hour I vacuumed, swept, mopped, did dishes, and cleaned bathrooms. I finished up and was about to pop some Tylenol PM when I felt the first contraction. It wasn't unbearable but I knew it was definitely a contraction. I decided to just take some Melatonin instead and get as much sleep as I possibly could in case this turned out to be the real deal. One concern I had was the drive to the birth center; this birth center is 30 minutes from our house and I typically like to labor at home as much as I can. We knew this time we'd need to head to the birth center earlier than usual, so when my contractions started coming in every five minutes at 1am, we headed up.

After getting to the birth center I walked around a little bit, bounced on the ball, and generally just kept moving. Eventually the contractions spaced out a lot, about 30-45 minutes. At this point I was at a 5 and 100% effaced and no one felt like it was a good idea for us to head back home. We ended up sleeping through most of the night at the birth center. 

At 6:30am I was up and moving again. I wanted to eat something and try and get labor going. By 7:30 the contractions were picking up in frequency and intensity. I kept breathing through them and talking with mom. For the next few hours I visited with my mom while Kyle wrapped up some work emails. The contractions were coming in good and hard every 5 minutes but I think I finally figured out how to cope with them.

I realized that being extremely present for each contraction was incredibly helpful. With each labor its been easier for me to shut off my brain quickly and let my body take over. This labor I felt like I started out with my brain relatively quiet. It allowed me to focus solely on the contraction at hand; not thinking about how many I'd already had or how much longer I needed to go. Just focusing on what my body needed to do in order to handle THIS contraction. I ended up moving around quite a bit. 

At some point I lost track of the clock. My chart notes tell me I got into the birth tub around 10 am. I kept talking with mom and Kyle about... well I genuinely don't remember what we were discussing. Mom says I made them all laugh at something. I remember watching the sunlight filter through the leaves. I remember the candles flickering by the tub. I remember switching positions in the tub. I remember getting back on the bed with a peanut ball. I remember drinking cold water and feeling it hit my teeth weirdly. I remember getting back into the tub on a birth stool. I remember my midwife was wearing really cool gold earrings. I remember hearing Watermelon Sugar play as someone drove by.

Eventually I started shaking and feeling nauseous — all signs indicating to being in transition. Contractions starting becoming more intense. I've heard it described as "throwing down" and I fully agree with the term; all the same force as throwing up just in a different direction. My midwife noted that my amniotic sac was really strong and there was a chance the baby would be born in it still. They held up a mirror while I was on the birth stool so I could gauge progress better. 

All at once my fears hit me like a freight train and I started panicking. My body recalled the exquisite pain of crowning again and I was terrified. I did NOT want to push, which I loudly informed everyone. My midwife quipped back, "Then don't! It's just as important for you to be mentally ready as it is to be physically ready." Hearing that was a game changer for me and I surrendered. My amniotic sac ruptured and the contractions picked up another notch. For 30 minutes I didn't consciously activate any muscles when a contraction hit. I let it wave over me as I mentally prepped for the impossible.

At 2:30pm some sort of switch flipped in my brain and I knew it was time. I don't know if I was 100% mentally ready but it no longer seemed to matter - this baby was coming now and I knew what I had to do: I pushed. I was in the tub slightly reclining on my back. Jasper started pushing on my diaphragm to help get out. My entire body stretched out horizontally to accommodate his movement. It didn't feel right. I flipped over to hands and knees and the pain reached a fever pitch.

Jasper crowned slowly enough not to tear but quickly enough to not have any skull shaping. My midwife later told me that most babies turn to one side, just once, to help rotate their shoulders out. Jasper turned side to side four times to help wiggle out his massive shoulders. Kyle helped guide Jasper out then finally, finally, he was in my arms and I just sobbed.

To this day I think there are just no words that fully captures those last few moments of labor. Maybe that's for a reason. Maybe it's inexplicable to remind me that there's still magic and miracles in the world. It will forever be the hardest thing my body endures followed immediately by greatest joy my heart knows.

It quickly became apparent why I'd felt like I needed to go to this birth center. I ended up losing a good deal of blood after the birth - it technically qualified as a hemorrhage. I got a Pitocin shot in the leg and an IV bag to help with the fluid loss. Jasper also had some borderline oxygen concerns that our midwives wanted to thoroughly vet. After a quick blessing from Kyle and my dad, they called in the life flight team and they were able to run a battery of tests at the birth center. Jasper's oxygen levels stabilized soon afterwards and he has been fine since. Both of these things were more easily handled at this birth center than our previous one. It made me profoundly grateful that I'd trusted my intuition from the beginning.

While Jasper's labor and delivery was my best one yet, the first month postpartum was really, really awful. Jasper ended up having a tongue and lip tie (which we got clipped). That combined with my insane milk overproduction contributed to a good deal of nursing, weight gain, and colic issues initially. My body was more weak than I've previously experienced because of the blood loss. This all made me more tired than I've ever been in my life, on top of a new baby, on top of already dealing with hormonally induced depression... yeah, it's been a lot.

Thankfully my midwives, Kyle, family, and friends have all been incredibly watchful of me. Zoloft and therapy was recommended and has been integral to my recovery. A few weeks ago Jasper started sleeping through the night now that all the nursing issues have been resolved and everyone is in a much better place.

Jasper has slipped seamlessly into our family. It's one of my favorite things to watch the sibling interactions with a new baby. In many ways it's like discovering a new puzzle piece that you didn't realize was missing. Our three older kids have been tremendously helpful in their own unique ways. Anson has taken over binky duty and ensures Jasper's binky is always nearby. I don't know what physics are at play with this but bringing a new baby home instantly ages everyone in the house. It's bittersweet to realize how much we're all growing up.

Jasper is a wonderful soul. He started smiling this past week which has melted our hearts. He's curious, contemplative, and pretty serious. He looks a lot like Alice did as a new baby. Jasper loves the bath more than our other kids has, tolerates the binky, really hates being cold, and adores his mom. We're honored to be his family!

Jasper Sterling Tuft
5/28/21 - 2:55pm
10 lbs, 21 inches

Anson Peter Tuft

If you know me, you know I've made NO BONES in sharing how difficult Alice's labor was. Necessary, but really, really hard. It took me a couple of years to process that experience and frankly, Anson's birth actually gave me a lot of closure on Alice's birth. Pre-kid me thought that labor was only a physical experience, but 4th-kid me knows that there's a very important emotional and spiritual component that is terribly difficult to articulate. Anson's birth allowed me to marry all of those aspects better than I ever have before and it was really redemptive, which I needed. It seems fitting Anson came the week of Thanksgiving as my heart has been overflowing with gratitude for him and our experience together.

Anson has been in our hearts for much longer than he's been on the earth. Since the tail end of 2017, Livvy has been asking us where her baby brother is. Over the next 2 years she'd occasionally tell friends and family that we were gonna have a baby boy - way, WAY before we were thinking about #4. I think she planned a coordinated attack with Milo because it wasn't too long before he started praying for his little brother too. Livvy actually announced our news at a family dinner by offering to pray, and asking Heavenly Father to "please bless her baby brother" (though we hadn't told the kids at this point that we were expecting!). The whole pregnancy was a really unique and cool experience with kids who were old enough to care. Milo was intensely interested in the development of the baby; he'd daily ask me updates on the umbilical cord in particular. The girls loved the fruit comparisons week by week. To say we were excited to meet Anson would be an understatement!

My official due date was November 21st. I'm aware there's a +/-2 week differential around that, but we fully anticipated that I'd be having a baby much earlier than the 21st given our prior experiences.

*Laughs*

Night of November 12th I went in for a non-stress test. I had a confirmed small leak of amniotic fluid, which wasn't out of the ordinary (the outer membrane of fluid always leaks for me); however, I hadn't felt much movement from Anson so we decided to get it all checked out. My midwives hooked me up to the monitors and I was apparently in active labor. I don't know how you don't KNOW you're in active labor, but there I was. Consistent, classic, 5-1-1 contractions, and dilated to a 3. We felt the timing was ironic since my mom was flying in the the next night; babies come at the most inconvenient time. My midwife offered to do a membrane sweep to get the ball rolling, but my one goal for this entire pregnancy was to go into labor on my own. I had a hunch that if I could be patient and let my body do its thing that the whole labor process would be easier for me. Since Anson checked out fine we decided to go home that night and wait it out. I could tell I was no where near pushing a baby out and I prefer to labor at home anyway. The contractions died out overnight and I had nothing more the next day. Felt slightly achy, but nothing else noticeable. Thankfully mom arrived night of the 13th, and we all thought I'd launch into labor with her arrival. There's some subconscious relaxing that happens knowing my mom's here and my other kids are taken care of. I've found it's nearly impossible for me to go into labor when I'm stressed out.

Well, it turns out I went in and out of active labor 5 more times  over the next 2 weeks. All of the labor happened at night, between 2-6am. I wasn't fully awake, but I was in and out of restless sleep during those hours. I'd wake up feeling like I hadn't slept and was extremely sore all over. We were concerned that I'd continue to have rough nights and be too fatigued BEFORE labor even begun, so we decided to do 2 membrane sweeps morning of the 17th. That was a really hard decision for me to swallow because of my goal, but between the amniotic leak, and the flakiness of labor, it felt like the right decision. We went walking for 4 miles that day and nothing came of it. It was disappointing, but since I really wanted to go into active labor on my own, I was moderately ok with waiting more. I chalked it up to my body just not being ready yet, even though I was 4.5 cm dilated at that point, and steeled myself for more terrible nights.

Thankfully the next few nights passed without incident! I was able to sleep through the entire night without any contractions. We watched my due date go by in some surprise and celebrated with Mora ice cream. I was bummed to see it pass, mostly because I didn't want Anson to have Thanksgiving birthdays and I was definitely ready to not be pregnant anymore. Physically I was getting really uncomfortable but the mental game was infinitely harder. I'm so grateful my mom was in town to help keep me occupied. Type-A me felt like I was getting credit deducted from my "project" by turning it in late!

Night of the 22nd was a terrible night again; up for 4 hours in active labor, then it all died off shortly after sunrise. At that point I was exhausted on every level and just very, very done. We felt really good about trying for more membrane sweeps to try and launch labor. Pam took the kids and we went in for 3 sweeps the following Saturday in combination with every midwives tale you've ever heard of. At my first membrane sweep I was dilated to a 7 which was shocking. HOW CAN YOU NOT BE IN ACTIVE LABOR AT 7CM?! I was really happy that all those nights of contractions weren't for anything, but it was maddening that my body wasn't sustaining labor. The day ultimately ended with no active labor, and no baby.

We decided to do one more membrane sweep the following day (Sunday), and then we'd look at other methods of induction, again with the goal of really trying to get labor going. Mentally & emotionally, I was in rough shape, not to mention physically drained. We went in at 10:30am for the sweep; I was completely effaced and still at a 7. I came home and did more pumping, yoga ball bouncing, some walking, and I even had a very low-dose Castor oil chocolate and peanut butter shake. If that doesn't communicate how done I was, I don't know what does!

Around 1pm I started to feel tired so I turned Avengers Endgame on to pass the time until our next appointment at 3. I continued to pump a little bit, stay hydrated, and eat some good food. I started to feel a some good, intense contractions and decided to time them. I had an hour of contractions, lasting 30 seconds, about 3-5 minutes apart. Nothing unbreathable, so I kept watching the movie.

I lost conscious track of the movie somewhere after the Avengers crew all jumped back in time to get the Infinity Stones. Something had shifted and my brain started floating. I don't remember Kyle calling the midwives, but at some point he did. I remember him leading me to the car. I remember I felt incredibly nauseous and mom grabbed me a bowl to hold for the car ride. I got very shaky and instructions were hard to process. I remember getting out of the car and walking into the birth center. I remember that everything felt hot. SO HOT. I was sweating through everything and stripped to the bare minimum immediately.

I remember grabbing the yoga ball and leaning over it. There were tears as the muscle memories of contractions and pushing came back to my body in full force. A lot of people say you forget the pain of labor, and I think that's generally true, but for me the memories come back like a train once I'm in labor again.

I started getting a lot of back pain which was odd because I had made sure Anson was in an anterior position before my contractions started. I kept thinking I needed to stay in a somewhat "hands and knees" position to help alleviate the back pain. I hopped up on the bed and did just that but it didn't feel right. The only position I felt slightly comfortable in was laying on my right side on the bed. I labored for a while in that position with Kyle pushing on my lower back through each contraction. I remember that it was somewhere during this time my sisters and Liz arrived at the birth center.

Going into transition was nowhere near as distinct this time as it was with Alice. I have no idea when I hit it. I remember feeling shaky, sweaty, and nauseous a few times throughout the whole process. At some point though I started to feel a little pushy, so I immediately asked for the birthing stool. My brain knew it wanted to use gravity to help get him out. I sat on that thing for all of 5 minutes. It wasn't..... right which just didn't make sense to my brain.

I got back in bed and laid on my side. Mentally I argued that I couldn't possibly push a baby out in this position. It wasn't ideal! I rode through intense contractions for a while. At one point something peaked and my water burst like a massive water balloon. I soaked a few people (including my mom!). It was shortly after that that my contractions reached a point that I lost a lot of my ability to think rationally. It was just survival.

There's always a moment in labor that just breaks me. There's a wall that I hit where I just know I can't do it anymore. It involves a lot of tears. A lot of yelling. Probably some swearing. Some hyperventilating. I had hoped to escape that moment this time around since I was an "experienced mom". LOL.

Kyle kept me grounded through the whole thing. He reminded me when and how to breathe and kept pushing on my back through the contractions. That was the only thing that provided any relief for my back. Mom held both my hands as I figured out how to engage my whole body into pushing. I ended up doing something like pull-ups, but on my side. I remember someone telling me to "push" and I yelled back, "He doesn't want me to right now!" It was an odd moment of clarity as I realized that I had articulated a subconscious knowledge. I was more in tune with my body than I had realized. It was incredibly empowering and motivating which was exactly what I needed.

I didn't have a clue what time it was or how long I pushed, but I remember feeling like it was taking a while. I kept asking if I was doing it right, or if I needed to move into a better position. My midwife reassured me that I was doing great and to just trust my body. I'm really grateful she said those things during labor; I think I had a lost a lot of confidence in my ability to birth a baby with Alice's birth. It was reassuring to know that she trusted me to do what I needed to do.

The last few pushes will never have the words to adequately describe them. I remember screaming for help and barely hanging on to the present. I had my eyes closed and I prayed for strength to meet my baby. One lion-roar later and he crowned. Someone said to "relax slowly" and I did. I heard someone say something about an arm. Another lion-roar push. Someone said he had hair and my eyes snapped open. Side-lying gave me a shockingly clear view of his head which was completely out. I sobbed with happiness and the last lion-roar push felt like a triumph as he came free.

Kyle moved Anson up to my arms and I just cried and cried. I had done it. I was capable of birthing a baby. I doubt I'll have many more experiences that will feel as triumphant as that moment did for me.

All the afterbirth stuff checked out just fine. I was relieved to find out I didn't tear. Putting the pieces together we realized that Anson had his left arm around his neck, elbow close to the chin, hand by his ear as he came through the birth canal. We're pretty sure that his arm is what caused me to go in and out of active labor as it would press on my cervix, and then move off it. It's also what caused all the back pain, the longer pushing time, and why I felt like I needed to lay on my right side while pushing.

Anson has been a true gift to our family. The first meeting with siblings is always so special. The girls ran up and gushed and cooed over his tiny features while Milo hung back a bit. Once the girls were done, Milo came up and quietly asked to hold Anson. Milo grinned, kissed Anson's head, and held him gently for a few minutes. It was pretty obvious that their bond is an old one.

Postpartum has been easier than I anticipated. Juggling schedules will always be a challenge to figure out but we've had load of help. I had a few insane afterbirth pains that I'd like to never repeat, but overall it's been very manageable. It was wonderful to celebrate Thanksgiving with family and to reflect on our blessings. Having a new family member really really drives home the things that matter most in life. We adore our baby Anson and feel really honored to be his family.

Thanks to Liz and Jillian for these photos!!

How to Survive Winter

I realize this is slightly premature but it's 55* currently, Costco is selling tulips, and I heard birds singing this morning which basically means winter is over (RIGHT?), so I thought I'd share some of my favorite winter hacks.

Last year I finally read The Little Book of Hygge and had a massive lightbulb moment and realized I could still make January fun! The concept of hygge is to create an atmosphere of warmth and cosiness. It exists all year round, but it's especially poignant in the winter months. The book details a lot of different ways to infuse hygge into your homes (blankets! candles! food! textures! games! friends!) and I followed all of them religiously (I'm nothing if not extreme). It was such a huge help last January that I knew I'd do the same thing this winter.

I realized this year that it helps me to separate winter into two different seasons; "holiday-winter" and "snow-winter". "Holiday-winter" is a ton of fun! What's not to love about Thanksgiving and Christmas? There's lots of family in town and I generally don't feel gloomy or tired of the cold those months. But then January 3rd rolls around and I'm ready to hibernate.

This year I combined a lot of what I'd learned from the book and last year's experience. I took down all the overtly Christmas decorations, leaving up the stuff I could make more "wintery", and then broke out the specific "snow-winter" decor. It was nice to have another "season" to intentionally decorate for. I kept my Christmas tree up and put on our snowflake/winter themed ornaments instead, I grabbed a bunch of fir branches to put on top of flat surfaces, and we made a concerted effort to enjoy the snow by sledding with cousins, skiing, and visiting the Ice Castles up in Midway.

"Snow-winter" has become our time to focus on friends. We don't get quite as much time with them during "holiday-winter" because we have so much family in town, so it's really nice taking advantage of the cold to have fun indoors. I actually think we've had people over for games and/or dinner every weekend so far.

This year I really wanted to dig into celebrating winter some more so I decided to host a few winter parties. We've had a lot of people move into our neighborhood that we've wanted to get to know and this seemed like a perfect opportunity! In the spirit of hygge, I didn't want this to be a formal event, but I did want it to still be something to look forward too. I designed some invites using Paperless, which instructed every couple to bring a soup and dessert, and to dress cozy. I'm not sure there's a food group I love more than soups. The idea was we'd all try some new soups & treats and visit.

Hosting a hygge party in the dead of January and February was a stroke of brilliance. I personally appreciated having something to look forward to after the holidays and it was awesome to get to know our new neighbors and ward members. These parties will absolutely become a tradition for us!

My biggest takeaway from learning to navigate the winter months is that I find it more enjoyable when I focus on all the things I CAN do rather than what I can't. Of course I'd prefer it to be warm enough to be outside, or to go hiking and swimming, but that time will come. The concept of hygge has helped me appreciate the seasons of life a lot more and I learned I can thrive in January instead of just survive!

A Milo Update

At the beginning of each year I reevaluate where I am with this blog and what I want to do with it. I'm quite happy to not be "required" to write something daily (or monthly, let's be honest), but just by having it I have feel this weird obligation to keep it up? Idk, the internet is a weird place.

Anyway, today is Milo's half birthday and subsequently it marks 6 months since he started therapy and I've had a lot of people ask how he's/we're doing so I'll do my best to summarize the last few months.

Milo is doing ABA therapy at a clinic up in Lehi, three days a week. He's also going to a special preschool in Orem twice a week, and we just added more speech therapy for him on Thursday mornings. It is a LOT but we wouldn't be doing this if it didn't benefit him. Honestly, Milo's progress has been incredible. We really had no idea what to expect as far as improvements go for him but we've been so, so happy with how he's doing.

At the beginning of the month we felt that Milo could benefit from more speech therapy but with his current schedule and our family's schedule we didn't know how to make that work. So I simply Googled "speech pathologist in Utah County" and scrolled the page looking for a title that sounded good I guess? Idk I wasn't that logical about the whole thing but I clicked on the third result down and that's how we found Mrs. Paige and she's been a real answer to prayers. An hour before I called, her Thursday morning client had concluded his final session with her so that time slot opened up. No one on her 6-month waitlist could make that time work and that was quite literally the only time we had in our schedule for speech therapy. I have no doubt that this was a little miracle handcrafted for Milo.

Through Mrs. Paige we've learned a lot about how to best communicate with him and it's felt like we've been given a few keys to help unlock the doors in his brain. I've learned I can't simply ask him, "What did you do today?" because the concept of "doing" is too abstract for him. I have to get really, really specific and say, "Who did you talk to today?" or "What did you play with today?" to get straight answers from him. Kids with autism have a much harder time with abstract concepts so narrowing questions down to contain more concrete elements is incredibly helpful. Mrs. Paige suggested keeping a daily journal for Milo by asking these kinds of specific questions and I legit sobbed the first time we did it. I got more detail about Milo's day during that exercise than I ever have. It's been hard to accept that Milo is out of the house more than he isn't; I thought I'd have more time with him before he was gone this much and adjusting to those expectations has been difficult. That coupled with how little he communicates forces me to rely heavily on his therapists and teachers to know what he's doing throughout the day, and even though they're awesome about giving me that information, I still don't know if Milo had a "bad day" or how something made him feel or who he played with and if he even likes those people or not.

Milo is starting to make friends which sounds like a "no big deal" sentence but I can't write that out without crying (apparently I've been crying a lot lately). For as long as he can remember, Livvy has been his only real friend. She's been right by his side through all of this transition and even today she's the only person he engages in imaginative play with. Livvy has always seen past Milo's verbal capacities to play and love him anyway and we've been so grateful for that gift of hers. However, we've also known that Milo would really benefit from having friends outside of Livvy and we're thrilled to see that slowly happening. There's a few kids at therapy and his therapists that he likes to tell me about. Every night in his prayers he says he's "grateful for Miss Chelseigh and Miss Jordyn and Ollie and Emma".

Milo's starting to really get the hang of pronouns and emotional cues. The whole concept of gender has finally clicked with him. He's actually trying to use the fact that he's a boy to get out of a few things. "I'm a boy mom! I can't wash my hair!" "I can't clean up! I'm a boy!" It's pretty funny for the most part, though I still make him wash his hair ;) Last week we watched a Bible video about the nativity story and it showed Mary crying at Christ's Crucifixion and he turned to me and said, "Mary's baby is dying and she's sad" and man, that turned me into a puddle. One thing I've learned with Milo is that he's very black and white so the emotional gray areas are still hard for him. We were at Coconut Cove (an indoor playplace) and as I walked around to check on all the kids I heard Milo repeating "please stop!" and getting louder each time. When I rounded the corner I found some older kid throwing balls at Milo's head, and Milo looking around for me, his eyes starting to glisten. His eyes connected with mine and I just saw so much confusion in them. The older kid ran as soon as he saw me, but for the rest of the day Milo said, "But mom, I told him please stop. Why didn't he stop?" How do you teach that sometimes people are just mean and don't listen to us? Especially to someone who has a hard time grasping those social nuances?

ABA therapy has helped us a lot at home. We've been able to use many of their tricks, like priming, and if-then statements to help establish good behavior. Milo's memory is unparalleled and frankly disconcerting. I don't get away with the occasional white lies or distracting techniques that I thought I'd be able to with toddlers! If I've told Milo he gets a sticker on his chart, he will remind me a full 4 days later if we haven't done that yet. Right now we've got a sticker chart going to help reinforce that we need to go to school and come home calm and happy. It's done wonders for those transitions and eventually I hope to use the same idea for other behaviors; in fact, I started using a sticker chart for Livvy for her morning routine and both of them were quite thrilled to "match" each other. Maybe all kids just love stickers.

A few other examples of Milo's progress:

• He named his stuffed dog "Roger" (he's never named anything - that imaginative play thing again).
• He's starting to make up stories to go with the pages in the book (again, imaginative play).
• Saying, "I" or "me" instead of speaking in 3rd person.
• Being able to talk himself out of a tantrum ("no Milo, use calm words to talk!").
• Flipping if-then statements back to me. I was telling him if he got his pj's on, then we could watch a show and he slyly said, "If I watch a show, then I'll put pj's on!"
• He's staring to really nail down prepositions, though we have to make sure we're really specific with them. A few months ago Kyle asked Milo to put the paper towels back under the sink and this is what we got:

He technically wasn't wrong!

In Milo's six month progress report we were happy to see that he has progressed in all areas. Some more or less than others, but quantifiable progress in everything! It was a huge relief to me because I think this last month or so I've just hit some sort of wall. I live in my car and it is oddly exhausting. I think my "chauffeur" schedule would make mouths fall open. I rarely have a free afternoon with nothing penciled in, which is frustrating because my pre-kid self wanted to make sure I didn't overschedule my kids - for their sakes and mine. I don't intend for this to come off as complaining but just understand if I've pulled back or not connected with you for a bit, it's because I've had to be incredibly intentional with my time lately.

We have no idea what's in store for Milo. We don't know when or if we'll reach a point where we discontinue therapy or if Milo will be able to go into a "normal" 1st grade class, or how long he'll need speech or any of that. To be perfectly honest I try very hard not to think too far into the future because all of those unknowns are uncomfortable for me to process. All I know is that as of today Milo is lightyears ahead of where he used to be and we are profoundly grateful. There's been so many little miracles that have happened on this path that's made it obvious to us that we're doing what we need to for him. I never anticipated how hard it would be to trust that Heavenly Father knows what's best for you kids even better than you do. I've accepted that fact in my own life, but as a parent it's been hard to watch Milo struggle and continue to have that faith. These little tender mercies have been very faith-building for me and I doubt I would be as strong today without having been through all of this.

We've been astounded by how many people have rallied around Milo and just loved him to pieces especially post-diagnosis. I was so nervous that people would treat him different or be uncomfortable around him but we've experienced nothing but support and love and it's been humbling to watch so a huge thank you to all those who love our boy! We're so proud of him and are stoked to see him progress more and more.

A Diagnosis

"Mom! It's lost in space!"

Milo grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs. "It's lost in space!!" he cried, pulling at my arms, leading me into his room. I had no idea what he was talking about. "What in the world does 'lost in space' mean?" I wondered. He's growing more frantic and there's nothing I can do to help. Milo started looking for something all around his room, repeating "lost in space!" in between tears. Tearing apart his bed, throwing the books and toys off the shelf.

Then I got it.

Two days ago we had watched a Magic School Bus episode about the solar system and the whole class cried out, "We're lost in space!". Maybe Milo was using this to communicate he needs help looking for something? What was he playing with recently? A car? A truck? So I asked him, "Is your toy gone?" Relief and understanding showed up on his face. I'd interpreted correctly. We found the red corvette. This wasn't the first time I've had to think outside the box when trying to understand Milo. It was just the final straw that confirmed my feeling that we should have his speech assessed.

The day after Kyle started his new job, we had Milo assessed specifically for speech through our school district. We had simply grown weary of wondering if Milo's speech was delayed, so to settle our fears, we decided to just test him and see. We were anticipating that the results would show a slight speech delay, then we'd get him into therapy for a bit, and all would be good.

The first assessment was for verbal and social skills, and the results weren't that great. Milo tested pretty low for those two areas, which prompted the assessors to have us come back for gross and fine motor skills testing to make sure they weren't missing anything. We came back and the results for those weren't great either. We walked away from the assessment qualifying for therapy in all 4 categories through our school district, and with a "92% chance of Autism" note on our paperwork.

To say we were stunned is a little bit of an understatement. Autism isn't new to Kyle or I; we have seen it in both sides of our family. We were both well-versed in the common markers of it: not making eye contact, preference to being alone, extreme fascination with unusual things, sensory/texture sensitivities. Milo doesn't have any of these things, or at least the extremes we were used to, so the results shocked us and it made me feel awful for not catching it sooner.

We debated for a few days on the pros and cons of getting an official diagnosis. We were concerned about Milo getting labeled which would lead him to being held back or treated differently, inadvertently delaying him even more. We didn't know how serious his case was; would he be "normal" after a few weeks of this therapy? Ultimately we settled on getting an official diagnosis for a myriad of reasons, but mainly because it would open the most doors to get him the best treatments.

I called over 20 different neuropsychologists in Utah and the earliest appointment I could make was 9 months out; but through my aunt we had a connection to a neuropsychologist in Washington who was willing to fast track our appointment to the end of May. Milo and I flew up there and he was tested.

The results of the testing were shocking and validating. Our neuropsych confirmed that Milo's Autism isn't the kind that you can diagnose on sight; there are some categories where he clearly doesn't qualify as Autistic, but then there are two categories (verbal and social) that he definitely does fall under the Autism spectrum. Our neuropsych said he'd call it a "soft diagnosis". He gave Milo a nonverbal IQ test, through which we learned that he's a bona fide genius. His pattern recognition and matching skills are at an 8 year old level; his visual comprehension is in the 97th percentile. Kyle and I have always known Milo was good at puzzles and patterns but this was jaw-dropping information. Through the IQ test we also learned that Milo has a very difficult time with language skills, particularly receptive language; he is well below age level for verbal comprehension.

Overall, we left our diagnosis testing feeling very grateful that someone else could see Milo beyond his verbal and social delays. It's very difficult getting judged in Target for the tantrums your 3 year old throws when you, as the parent, know that it's only because he's not comprehending what you're asking him to do. To have someone else see Milo the way that we do as parents was truly special.

Going forward, Milo will be in an intensive ABA therapy summer program that is tailored towards helping his verbal and social delays. We saw a lot of progress when he was in the preschool therapy during the last 8 weeks of the school year, so we're excited to see how he progresses with a more intense program.

If I'm being truly honest, writing this all out and sharing it has been one of the harder decisions I've made in recent years. I'm trying to balance keeping Milo's personal life private and wanting to share our struggle for our sake as well as those who may be in a similar boat. There's also that constant feeling of guilt that's settled in my stomach since the assessment that makes talking about this difficult. I wonder if I'm alone in blaming myself for a kid's diagnosis. Did I give Milo Autism by making a mistake on the self-reported questionnaires? Did I drink too much Diet Coke while pregnant with him? He did get sunburned once as a 2 year old - did that do it? It's been a very difficult pill to swallow that as a parent, I can't meet all of my son's needs. Logically, I understand that many people work at raising one child, but in my heart it feels like I'm farming Milo out to people to "fix him". There are days where I'd like to go back to not knowing, but then there are days filled with tantrums that make me so thankful I can drop him off to therapy (and then immediately guilty for feeling glad about that). There's guilt for not spending enough time with him during the day, and not WANTING to spend time with him after 30 tantrums in an hour. There's guilt for feeling like I'm not giving my girls the attention they need. There's guilt for dropping the ball in callings, friends' lives, and as a wife because I'm simply exhausted. There's guilt for not being up to speed in politics because my brain is overflowing with testing acronyms, ASD theories & therapies, and potentially benefitting diets.

But then there are also extreme wins that bring me to tears. Milo told me unprompted that he loved me the other day which has happened twice to my memory. He said, "I think it's broken" when I attempted to fix his Hot Wheels car, showing proper pronoun use. He sang along to Katy Perry's "Roar" in the car with perfect timing. He announced he was sharing as he gave Livvy a train. He sang Daniel Tiger's "stop and listen to stay safe!" before crossing a road.

His quirks make him easy: I gave him a potty-training book and he studied it for 3 days then potty-trained himself; we've never had to use pull-ups. He's methodical and intense. He hates messes and loves to clean up. He studies books and entertains himself for hours on end. He remembers everything he's read or seen.

His quirks make him hard: very few people understand him unless you're living in our house because he speaks like the Transformer Bumblebee, piecing together clips from songs, books, and TV shows to make a sentence. Turning off a TV show is an ORDEAL. As is checking out of a store. He rarely shows empathy for other people which makes teaching about others' feelings hard.

We are very new to this journey and the word "Autism" still feels like an ill-fitting shoe. Our day to day life hasn't really changed pre-diagnosis and post-diagnosis. Milo is still Milo. We just have some idea as to what's going on in his head now. While it's been hard to wrap my head around, our overall sense has been one of relief; we can help Milo now and have very specific areas we can focus on to help him become more age-appropriately developed.

Never did I ever think we'd be parents of a kid who has special needs but here we are. It's been a humbling experience but we're ready for it as much as we can be!