Sorry

This story starts back when I was just a little girl, back then I was an only child up until I was around 7 years old. My mother finds out that she was expecting a baby boy and I was ecstatic. I was so excited to be a big sister and especially to a boy! I had always dreamed about having a sibling that I would be so close to since I wasn’t close with any of my other siblings. I always found ways to be involved with my moms pregnancy journey. I always made sure to help her and do the best I could at such a young age. I vividly remember on May 8, 2014 my mom started going into labor and I was so scared because I didn’t know how to help and I felt so bad for my mom seeing her in pain and stress. I remember she dropped me off with my dad and I started crying because I thought I was never going to see my mom again. A couple of days later my dad got a call from my mom, she asked for him to take me to the hospital so I could finally meet my brother. When I held him for the first time I was so confused on how he fit in my moms belly for so long, but in that moment I knew that I was going to be the best sister ever. I instantly felt an amazing connection to my brother. I had never felt so happy before. When we finally went home I never left my brother’s side, I was mesmerized by him. Day and night I would play with him, make silly faces just to hear him giggle. We were inseparable, the true definition of two peas in a pod. A year later my mom decides that she wants to move out of Florida and go to Chicago. I was so afraid of what that would be like. I was nervous about leaving because that would mean that I had to go to a new school, make new friends, and I would have to adapt to the cold. A couple of months into moving I started realizing that things weren’t as bad as I thought and things were going well, only downside was that we would barely go out due to the extreme weather. Around a year into us having moved up there my mom started noticing drastic changes in my brother. My brother was acting differently, we started noticing weird behaviors and how he wasn’t acting like himself. We started noticing that when we called out his name he wouldn’t react, when we would speak to him he wouldn’t look at you and he still wasn’t talking. That was a big red flag for me and my mom but she kept brushing it off stating that maybe he would just be a late bloomer. Another year goes by and we still see no progress from my brother, my mom started doing research on it and started getting worried. When she started reaching out to doctors in hopes of getting help she got told that it was nothing to worry about, that it was normal for boys to be behind in that aspect. My mom refused to believe that so she kept on insisting and got a referral for a neurologist. Months later we finally were able to go to the neurologist, we waited for what seemed like an eternity while they conducted tests on my brother. After all the tests were concluded we got the news that would impact our lives heavily. We were told that my brother had autism, and that news instantly affected my mom. After that appointment I would see my mom cry day and night wondering where she went wrong, wondering what was the cause of my brother’s autism. Back then I wouldn’t understand why she would cry but as I’ve gotten older and have more knowledge on the condition I understand why. Months went by and my mom started educating herself on what the condition consisted of, if it was something genetic or provoked, and what was the solution. While living in Chicago my mom started getting him help but not much was provided since my mom didn;t know much about the condition and we didn’t have the resources. Thankfully my brother is on the lower part of the spectrum and isn’t severely affected like others. Couple of years went by and my mom felt like my brother wasn’t improving. She wanted to find my brother better therapists and get all the help she could find for him. My mom made the decision to bring us back to Miami again. Since I was young and didn;t understand I felt angry at the fact that after just finally getting used to the cold, the snow, and how life was over there I had to move back and start all over again. After moving back and getting settled in I started noticing things, everyone acted differently. The way people would talk, act, and express themselves was extremely different. During all that time I felt alone, I felt like the “outcast” of my family and I didn’t understand why. Don’t get me wrong I felt so proud that my brother was improving and that he was learning new things but I still couldn’t shake off that feeling. I quickly realized that everyone was so consumed and invested in my brother and getting him the help he needed that I got pushed to the side. Years went by and my brother was making amazing progress. After countless therapists, going to therapies everyday, constant school/ teacher changes, he was finally able to hold conversations and form sentences, and even react when his name would be called. I felt so proud because in ways I also helped him and that made me feel complete. Every day I would see progress, he would impress me each day with all the little things he learned. As I got older I have educated myself on my brother’s condition, on how to accommodate my life for him, on how I can help him become the best version of himself. Throughout this whole process it’s been difficult helping him and there have been extreme challenges. I am proud to say my brother has advanced so much that he’s finally going to school with “normal kids” and having a “normal life”. Throughout this whole thing I have learned to gain patience and have learned to not lose my temper as quickly as I used to, at the end not only have I helped my brother grow, he has also taught me many things and has helped me grow to be the best version of myself that I co6muld possibly be.