Having children was always a dream I carried in my heart from as far back as I can remember. I always knew I was meant to be a mom, and I pictured every detail of what that life would look like. From the little moments of snuggling a newborn to the joys and challenges of motherhood, I longed for the day when I could call myself a mom. I had no doubt that when that day came, it would be the most meaningful chapter of my life.
After meeting the love of my life and marrying him in the beautiful Oakland LDS temple, I was beyond excited to start a family. Nine months after our wedding, I found out I was pregnant. That first pregnancy went smoothly, and before we knew it, our perfect little boy had arrived—Landon, weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces. Like most newborns, he had a few fussy months and some tummy troubles that required a special formula, but once that was figured out, Landon was an absolute dream. He hardly cried or fussed, he barely laughed, but he exuded calmness that made us feel like we had truly been blessed.
He was so easy-going that we started thinking about trying for another baby, and before we fully decided, I found myself pregnant again. It was sooner than expected, but we were thrilled for baby number two. During this second pregnancy, Landon continued to be the calm, adaptable little boy we loved so much, barely showing discomfort when sick or teething. Little did we know, those quiet signs were the early whispers of challenges we would soon face.
Mason arrived a month early at 36 weeks, adding to our busy household filled with boys, bottles, and diapers. Life was a whirlwind, but I cherished every moment—holding Mason close on the couch while Landon played nearby. I barely slept, but exhaustion didn’t matter because this was exactly what I had dreamed of: the joy, the chaos, the unconditional love of being a mom.
As Landon grew, we joined a small playgroup with three other boys his age. I watched how these children interacted with their moms—looking when called, pointing to objects, making animal sounds, showing excitement in ways Landon rarely did. At first, I blamed myself, thinking I wasn’t teaching him enough. I spiraled into feelings of shame and inadequacy, frustrated that I couldn’t make him interact in the same ways. My husband reminded me that Landon was fine and that every child develops at their own pace. I clung to that reassurance, but deep down, something told me he was different.
By the time Landon was nearing two, my husband began sharing my concern. As Mason became more interactive, Landon’s limited engagement and apparent indifference stood out. We prayed together for guidance, unsure if our worries were valid, and felt prompted to reach out to a friend with similar experiences. That friend guided us to the State Services for child evaluations. Nervous but determined, we made the appointment, knowing it was a necessary step, even if it meant confronting uncomfortable truths.
The day of the evaluation arrived, and I braced myself for minor speech delays, nothing more. But within minutes of meeting the evaluators, whispers and questions signaled that our world was about to shift. “Your son is showing many signs of Autism,” they said. Though they couldn’t give an official diagnosis yet, they urged us to get on waiting lists for assessment and intervention. My mind raced: Autism? Our quiet, seemingly content Landon? Could this be true? I asked the question that haunted every parent: “Will he be able to have a normal life—marry, have kids, be happy?”
Tears filled the room as the evaluators reassured me: Landon was young, and early intervention could give him the best chance possible. The next days blurred together in shock and urgency. Waiting lists for diagnosis were long, but my mom found a clinic in the Bay Area that could see Landon within a week if we paid out-of-pocket. We took that leap. Once diagnosed, the recommendation was clear: 20 hours a week of ABA therapy, plus occupational and speech therapy. Living in a small town, no company would provide these services locally. We made a bold decision—relocate to the city so Landon could receive the care he deserved. Within days, our house was on the market and sold in two days. Every step, every detail, felt guided by something greater than us.
Since then, our understanding of Autism has grown immensely. It has been the hardest journey of our lives, yet also filled with miracles and blessings. We don’t know exactly what the future holds for Landon, but we know we will fight for every opportunity, every learning moment, every joy he deserves.
What we’ve learned along the way is invaluable: there is no “normal.” Our children experience the world differently, and that difference is a gift. Parenting a child with special needs requires self-care, love, and support. And above all, it requires faith—faith in our children, in ourselves, and in the unexpected beauty of life’s challenges. Landon and Mason are our greatest blessings. Autism has changed our perspective, deepened our appreciation for the little things, and strengthened our family in ways we could never have imagined. Life may look different than we expected, but it is still rich, joyful, and filled with love.
