The Day My 3 Month Took His First Steps

TJ Walking at 3 months old 12-27-2012

It was an ordinary day in the kitchen, the hum of daily life swirling around me, when I glanced over at my 3-month-old son in his walker. At this point, I had grown used to marveling at his uncanny strength and coordination—traits that were unusual for a baby his age. Even so, I never expected what would happen next.

There he was, tiny yet determined, holding himself up in the walker with a focus that seemed far beyond his months. And then, as if by some instinctual force, he began to alternate his feet. One step, then another. He was moving. My 3-month-old son—barely old enough to fully hold his head up—was walking in his walker.

The sight hit me like a tidal wave of emotions. On one hand, I felt an exhilarating rush of pride. What a remarkable, advanced little soul! My baby boy was already defying expectations and charting his own extraordinary path. But as quickly as the excitement bubbled up, a deep sense of fear settled in beside it.

I couldn’t ignore the whispers of knowledge in the back of my mind. As someone with a background working with children with special needs, I knew that advanced development at such an early age could sometimes be an early marker of Autism Spectrum Disorder. This moment, awe-inspiring as it was, carried with it the weight of uncertainty and the first seeds of questions I wasn’t yet ready to answer.

That day in the kitchen marked the beginning of my journey as much as it marked his first steps. Though I didn’t know it then, those tiny steps—full of strength and determination—were taking us both into a whole new world.

Over the years, my son continued to amaze me with his unique and brilliant mind. But as he grew, so did my concerns. Small moments added up to patterns I couldn’t ignore. At three years old, after months of navigating evaluations and endless questions, he was officially diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder by a psychologist at Loma Linda University.

Hearing the words confirmed what I had suspected for a long time, but that didn’t make it any less jarring. Suddenly, everything felt different and yet exactly the same. I loved him fiercely, just as I always had, but now I had a name for the challenges we faced—and the tools we’d need to navigate them.

This diagnosis opened the door to an entirely new chapter, one that demanded more of me than I ever thought possible. Even though I’d spent years working with children with special needs, nothing prepared me for what it would mean to advocate for my own child. The roles of parent and teacher merged in ways that stretched me, broke me, and rebuilt me, stronger than before.

As I look back on that day in the kitchen, I see it as a profound moment of foreshadowing. Those early steps in the walker weren’t just a milestone in his development—they were the first glimpse into the person he was becoming. A person of relentless determination, curiosity, and strength. And they were also the first steps in my transformation as a parent.

Raising a child with special needs has been a journey of learning to embrace the unexpected. It’s about finding beauty in moments of uncertainty, joy in the midst of challenges, and strength I never knew I had. My son’s diagnosis didn’t change who he was—it simply gave me a clearer lens to see his unique brilliance.

Every step he’s taken since that day in the walker—whether literal or metaphorical—has taught me something new about resilience, love, and authenticity. And every step has reminded me that life’s greatest challenges often hold the greatest opportunities for growth.

That day in the kitchen was the beginning of a journey I didn’t see coming, but one I am endlessly grateful to walk with him.