Comparisons are Odious. And a Bitch.
Isaac was our gamble. After having 2 boys with autism, we were willing to try again. We knew the odds were higher, but we didn't have a good idea of how high. Those numbers are still debated. Looking back, I'm still not sure what made us take the risk other than part of my grief with autism was that I wouldn't have any more children, and I couldn't let that go. I love being pregnant and I love having babies (well, after they're born. I'm not a fan of the being born part.) So Isaac was created. Just like I'm not quite sure when we knew for sure that Nathan was autistic (although we were sure by the time he was 2), I can't quite say when we were sure that Isaac wasn't. He gained language at maybe a slightly slower than normal pace, but still acceptable on the developmental charts. Raising him has been a joy and a job. Reading to him at night, having him pick out his own books, having a routine (10 kisses, 10 hugs after we turn out the lights),