We Prayed for This Season

I’ve found myself pausing more.

Something is happening right in front of our eyes.

The things we have been praying for.

The things we have been crying out to God for.

The things we have been waiting on for so long.

They’re happening.

And I don’t want to rush past this season without acknowledging it.

From the Hard Season to the Harvest

There was a time when everything felt heavy.

When progress felt slow.

When days felt long.

When it felt like we were pouring out everything we had—emotionally, mentally, spiritually—and wondering when we would see breakthrough.

But in that season, something else was happening too.

We were growing closer to God.

In the uncertainty.

In the exhaustion.

In the moments where we didn’t have answers.

We learned how to lean on Him in a way we never had before.

And now?

It feels like we are stepping into a season where we are reaping the harvest of everything we walked through.

A Year of Waiting, and So Much Grace

Recently, August had to undergo a dental procedure at Children’s Hospital.

He was placed under general anesthesia, and if I’m being honest, I had been carrying the weight of that for a long time.

We waited an entire year on a waitlist just to get an OR date.

A whole year of praying.

Preparing.

Wondering how he would handle it.

And when the day finally came…

He did so, so well.

The procedure was completed successfully, and his recovery has been nothing short of amazing.

No meltdowns.

No major dysregulation.

Just peace.

It felt like God met us there in such a tangible way.

Prayers Being Answered in Real Time

We’ve been witnessing something that’s hard to fully explain unless you’ve lived it.

We are seeing prayers answered in real time.

August has started using new phrases like:

“I did it.”

And it’s not just that he’s talking.

It’s that he’s using his words with intention—at the right time, in the right way.

We’ve prayed for this.

We’ve hoped for this.

And now we’re watching it happen.

New Growth We’ve Never Seen Before

Another milestone that has felt incredibly special…

August has started forming attachments to toys—and even more than that, he’s engaging in pretend play.

This is something we had never really seen before.

And now?

We’re watching him imagine, engage, and interact in ways that are completely new.

It’s one of those moments where you just stop and think,

This is what we’ve been praying for.

The Kind of Wins That Change Everything

And then today…

August let us brush his teeth with zero tears.

No meltdown.

No struggle.

No stress.

And even more than that—he transitioned right back to playing afterward like it was nothing.

If you know, you know.

This isn’t small.

This is something that used to feel impossible.

It Was Worth It

And I don’t say that lightly.

The hard days.

The meltdowns.

The waiting.

The prayers that felt unanswered for so long.

All of it.

It was worth it to stand here now and watch this kind of growth unfold.

Not because everything is perfect.

But because we can see God’s hand in it.

So clearly.

God Was Working the Whole Time

This season has reminded me of something I don’t want to forget:

God wasn’t absent in the hard season.

He was preparing us.

Strengthening us.

Growing us.

Drawing us closer to Him.

And now, we’re seeing the fruit of that.

Not all at once.

Not in a flashy way.

But in steady, meaningful, undeniable growth.

Holding Gratitude and Awe

We’re still learning.

Still growing.

Still walking this journey day by day.

But right now, I just feel a deep sense of gratitude.

And honestly… awe.

Because watching your prayers unfold in front of you?

That changes you. That changes everything.

If You’re Still Waiting

If you’re in a season where you’re still praying…m

Still waiting…

Still hoping for breakthrough…

I just want to gently remind you:

God is still working.

Even when you don’t see it yet.

Even when it feels slow.

Even when it feels hard.

Because I was there too.

And now I’m watching things unfold that I once only prayed for.

This Haircut Was a BIG Deal

This week, we had a win.

And I mean a big win.

August let me cut his hair.

And if you know August, you already know this is kind of a big deal… because the boy has a ton of thick, wild hair. 😂 It’s basically his signature.

But haircuts in our house have never been simple.

In fact, we used to dread them.

We knew going into it that it would take what felt like an entire NFL defensive line just to hold him still long enough to get through it.

And even then, it was awful.

Snot.

Tears.

Hair everywhere.

And the hardest part wasn’t even the haircut itself.

It was what came after.

Haircuts would trigger huge meltdowns that could last for hours.

We learned very quickly to clear the calendar on haircut day, because we knew the rest of the day would be spent helping August regulate and recover.

This isn’t something most parents of neurotypical kids even have to think about.

But for sensory-sensitive children, something as simple as a haircut can be painfully overstimulating.

The sound of clippers.

Hair falling on the skin.

Someone touching your head and ears.

For August, all of that can feel like too much.

But this week, something different happened.

He sat in the chair while I cut his hair for about 15 minutes.

No tears.

No big meltdown.

Just a little fuss when I got close to his ears — which, honestly, is completely understandable. Even many adults don’t love that part.

And for us, that felt like a huge victory.

The Wins That People Don’t Always See

One thing parenting a child with autism has taught me is that progress often looks different than people expect.

Sometimes progress isn’t measured in big milestones.

Sometimes it looks like:

A haircut without tears.

Brushing teeth for a few extra seconds.

Trying something new without panic.

These are the moments that quietly tell you something is changing.

Growth is happening.

Confidence is building.

And even though they may seem small from the outside, they mean everything to us.

Learning to Celebrate the Small Things

When August was first diagnosed, I didn’t fully understand how important these little victories would become.

Now I do.

Because every time he tolerates something that once felt impossible, it’s a reminder of how far he has come.

It’s a reminder that progress isn’t always loud or dramatic.

Sometimes it’s quiet.

Sometimes it’s a 15-minute haircut.

And sometimes that’s more than enough to celebrate.

Progress Over Perfection

Parenting August has changed the way I look at growth.

I’ve learned to celebrate effort.

To notice the small steps forward.

To appreciate the moments when something that used to feel overwhelming suddenly becomes manageable.

And this week, a haircut felt like a really big step.

So yes — we’re celebrating it.

Because progress deserves to be noticed.

Even the quiet kind.

The Childhood We Didn’t Expect (But Learned to Love)

There are a lot of things people associate with autism.

Therapy appointments.

Evaluations.

Meltdowns.

Sensory needs.

And yes — those things are part of our life.

But so is laughter.

A lot of it.

When August was first diagnosed, I quietly grieved the picture of childhood I had always imagined. The one where everything looked typical and predictable.

But over time, something changed.

Instead of focusing on what we thought childhood would look like, we started paying attention to what actually makes August happy.

And it turns out, the little things are where the joy lives.

August loves music. When one of his favorite songs comes on, he lights up. He’ll bounce back and forth and sway side to side like the music is moving through him.

Sometimes he claps along to the rhythm. Other times he snaps his fingers and makes silly sounds while he dances.

It’s impossible not to smile when you see it.

He also loves light-up toys and anything that makes sound. One of his favorite things right now is the Bluey keytar he got for Christmas. If music starts playing in our house, there’s a very good chance August is nearby, happily pressing the keys and dancing along.

Another thing August loves is connection.

He gives the best hugs and is always ready with a high five. And if you try to tickle him, be prepared — he will absolutely dissolve into laughter.

But if you asked August what his favorite activity is, the answer would still be easy.

Jumping.

More specifically, jumping and crashing onto his crash pad.

He will jump, crash, bounce back up, and do it all over again with the biggest grin on his face.

And when summer comes around, the trampoline has some competition.

August loves water play. The sprinkler, the hose, splashing in puddles — if water is involved, he’s all in. Watching him run through the sprinkler and laugh is one of those simple childhood moments that never gets old.

One thing autism has taught us is to never take small milestones for granted.

Things that once felt ordinary suddenly feel worth celebrating. Progress is noticed more carefully. Little victories matter more.

And because of that, the joyful moments feel even bigger.

Not every part of an autism diagnosis is easy or fun. There are hard days. There are challenges we didn’t expect— and still don’t know how to handle.

But we’ve learned something important along the way:

We still get to have fun.

Sometimes it just looks different than we once imagined.

Sometimes fun looks like dancing in the living room.

Sometimes it looks like silly sounds and belly laughs.

Sometimes it looks like a boy jumping full force onto a crash pad over and over again.

And sometimes it looks like a mom sitting on the couch watching all of it unfold… while silently wondering how one small human has this much energy.

We don’t spend our time mourning what we once thought August’s childhood would look like.

Instead, we’ve learned to celebrate the childhood he’s actually living.

And in many ways, this journey has shaped us as parents in ways we didn’t expect.

It’s taught us to slow down.

To notice the little things.

To celebrate progress, no matter how small.

And that perspective is something we now carry into raising Sawyer too.

Whether his path includes a diagnosis or not, we want to approach his childhood the same way — with gratitude, patience, and a deep appreciation for the moments that make him who he is.

Because at the end of the day, joy doesn’t have to look typical to be real.

And August brings a lot of it into our home.

(Along with an impressive amount of trampoline bouncing and full speed crashing.)