Life with AB includes a lot of looking and watching. She loves to climb and jump and run but then she needs her moment away. She spends as much time on the picnic tables or climbing the stairs than she does on the playground—sometimes she simply prefers it.

For me, it can feel a little lonely. It can feel like another example of how different play and connection are for Annabelle. She’s not imagining she’s setting up a cafe and serving me mulch hamburgers. She doesn’t play tag with the other four-year-olds that are running around together.

My feelings of otherness fade because I see that she is living a life that is truly unique. She’s squinting at the trees and the light, then flipping upside down to see them from a different perspective. She’s using her communication device to tell me that she wants some water or talking about her friends from Sesame Street. She’s climbing on top and under, then around again.

She’s squeezing my hand and snuggling into me, pouring all of her love and trust into our relationship. She is secure and safe.

In life and parenting, it’s okay to feel both things. I feel grateful for the amazing, unique person that Annabelle is AND I grieve the experiences or connections she seems to miss. Both are valid and important in parenting my sweet girl.