When do the worries stop?

Quinn is a busy boy who takes in everything around him, especially lights overhead. He's much more interested in his surroundings at this point than in the people around him, and he fixates on one thing after another. I can't help but worry: autism?

At a playground today he is so overwhelmed he won't focus on anything. So I worry: Vision impairment? Mental retardation? Social disorder?

All day today he sucked on his middle and ring fingers and sometimes he slams his head backwards. And so I worry: troubling self-stimulation behaviors?

At 16 months old, he can't push himself to a sitting position but he can sit up just fine if plopped down that way. So I worry: Irreversible developmental delays?

After a day with us, he doesn't seem to be attaching himself to either of us and he has yet to smile. And so my big fear takes root: reactive attachment disorder?

And then, hallelujah, he sees himself in a mirror. He points. He smiles. He bounces. He plays peek-a-boo with the handsome boy in the glass. He looks into my eyes to make sure I'm a part of the fun. He looks to Tom. He starts starting right into our eyes. The fun continues right on through dinner and into bathtime, where he splashes in the water and laughs that wonderful, uproarious baby belly laugh.

I hug my boy tight, and he melts right into me. For tonight at least, no more worries.