For months and months, I have been dancing around a word. I've talked about it, hinted rather broadly and written between the lines for quite some time. But I haven't said it. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because it's terrifying. Perhaps because it's so damn uncertain. And perhaps because it's going to change absolutely everything, and I have absolutely no control over any of it. The word is a label, and it will color how you see things. It will bring assumptions and perceptions that may or may not be true. And it just seems so unfair, because he's my son and I don't want that for him. Like all mothers, I want love and acceptance. Perhaps not as unconditional as mine always will be, but love and acceptance just the same.
The word is Autism.
For a while now, we have suspected that one of our twins may be autistic. It's the main reason we had the little guys evaluated and started on the therapies they currently have (speech and developmental for both, behavioral for one). We are working toward one thing - a clinical evaluation. We have to have at least two months of therapy notes to be admitted to the center that is considered the statewide authority on such things. We are half way there. We have already seen progress in some areas, though not so much in others. As with most developmental issues, the process will be slow and full of lots of ups and downs. And we have only just begun.
A few of you have heard us talk openly about it, most of you have not. Many of you may have read between the lines, and perhaps even wondered if we were aware. We were, we are, and we're still trying to figure out the best course for our son and for our family.
Autism is nothing if not ambiguous. There are no hard and fast rules, no rhyme or reason to it at all. It affects everyone differently and therapies that help some people do absolutely nothing for others. It ranges from very high-functioning to severely impaired, may or may not include health problems as well as the other things. It can be any combination of speech, developmental, social, behavioral and even occupational issues. People and experts all argue over the why and how of it, especially now that it seems to be such a prevalent thing in society, the true "it" diagnosis for all developmental and behavior issues. And those whose lives are touched by it find themselves wading through the vast amount of information that is available, often offering differing opinions on the types of therapies and "treatments" that may or may not help. Some even argue that autism simply offers a different perspective and does not need help or "treatment," though I don't think I could ever subscribe to this group entirely. I want my son to function in the world, to the best of his abilities. But at the same time, I don't want to have every moment of his life tied up in therapy or "treatment." I want for him what I want for all of my boys - to be happy and healthy and to live a good life. I suppose that puts me in the happy medium group, where we try a few things and see how it goes. We hope for speech (or signs) and a little more social engagement. If it doesn't work, then we try something else, as long as it doesn't make our son miserable. We find what works for us, discard the things that don't, and we go on.
In the beginning, I was reluctant to have him evaluated for several reasons, but mostly for the label. It seems so many people just write your child off when you mention they have or might have autism. And that, more than anything, breaks your heart. Is my son different than other kids his age? Absolutely, he's quirky and independent and organized like you wouldn't believe. But he's also sweet and endearing and infinitely loveable, just like every other little boy his age. And who's to say that he doesn't have just as much potential as anyone else, that the speech will not come in time or that the social skills may not improve. He is only two, after all.
But the signs of Autism are there, and have been for quite some time. He sees things differently, processes things differently. His needs and his wants are not the same as his brothers. And we need to try to understand that as much as we can so we can learn to communicate as much as he needs or wants to and so we can help him move through this life with as much ease and enjoyment as possible.
I don't want the word, the label, to limit him or to be the only thing people see in him. If he has autism, it will only be a small part of who he is, certainly not all of him. He smiles and he laughs. He runs and he plays. He is sweet and he is funny. He is my little boy.
And, he is now, and always will be, my baby. He is no different to me than either of his brothers. Autistic or not, he's going to be just fine. He has one of the brightest smiles you will ever see and one of the most adorable laughs you will ever hear. And that's something I wouldn't change for anything in this world. He's just another one of our boys. We're going to do everything we can for him and his brothers to make sure they all grow up healthy and happy. And that, I think, is all anyone really wants for their children.
Any other posts along this line will fall into the Quirky and Cool category, because that's how I choose to see it.
