Something Is Wrong

Forgive me for back tracking– in my last post I briefly touched on the day of the diagnosis, I’m going to take you back to the process in which this came about. You would think with all the notoriety autism has received in the past ten, even in the past five years,  diagnosing your child with autism would be somewhat simple. Turns out, the exact opposite is true.  I also want to be clear that the “complaints” and detail which I re-tell this story with are not for pity or self-indulgence. I am very aware that there are far worse things in this world than an autism diagnosis. I also respect the struggles of those who came before me. Before autism was part of every day vocabulary, when children were diagnosed with schizophrenia instead of autism because back then, autism did not exist in the mind of any doctor; I will never understand what those mothers went through and how painful their experiences had to have been. I want to retell this story for myself. I already find myself blocking out bits and pieces of Miles’ journey and that, to me, is not acceptable. This little boy given to me was no accident and I fully intend to share his story with the world because it is the story of so many others out there.

 

The months after Miles regressed seem like a blur. I am going to do my best to accurately recall the hell we endured, however, I admit some parts are fuzzy and others may be totally forgotten.  Not only had we just moved into a new house, had two babies under the age of two, but I had switched schools and this next school year was about to be my worst. It was July 2009.  Miles and Cameran were 19 months and 9 months old respectively. That alone (as most mothers would agree) is enough to send any sane person over the edge. Miles was not talking, imitating, pointing, gesturing, or doing anything typical. He did not play with toys, instead he ran tirelessly from one end of the living room to the next. He would touch the wall each time he got to the end and jump continuously in between running. Most people just wrote him off as an adorable little boy with so much energy! I casually mentioned to a few of my close friends that something seemed “odd.” My main concern was his talking, I would tell everyone; though deep down my main concern was that he acted like he didn’t even know anyone else existed! I couldn’t play with my son-he didn’t want to play only jump and run. He never responded to his name. I tried to convince myself that this was how Miles always was. He was just an active boy who cared more about running around than looking at other people.

Until one day when I was going through old photos and videos of my babies. Cameran came into our lives so quickly after Miles that I had a hard time remembering her milestones. I had always written Miles’ down but wanted to be accurate with hers as well. So I am looking through photos on our digital camera and I stumbled upon a video of Miles in the bathtub at 8 months old. (I must admit even as I am typing this I am getting emotional- I think this is what sealed the deal for me). Miles was in the bathtub splashing so gaily trying to pick up the rubber ducky in front of him. To anyone else this looked like a typical home video of a sweet baby boy playing. But then I heard my own voice say “MILES!” and my baby boy looked up at me and smiled. I said his name 4 different times in that video and every single time, he looked up to his name. Why was it that now at 19 months of age, could Miles not respond to his name?  I remember curling up in a ball on my closet floor sobbing. It was almost unbearable to think but it was true… Something was wrong- not maybe- something was definitely wrong. Now I just had to find someone who believed me.