Gavin was recently diagnosed with high functioning Autism.
Autism.
That word is becoming more and more familiar in my life.
I have never been around someone with Autism on any kind of a regular basis.
Sure, I've met a few children who have it. I even babysit a 9 year old a few times who has Aspergers.
But that didn't make it anymore familiar for me when they told my that my 2 1/2 year old son has Autism.
We knew that they would tell us this diagnosis long before we went in for the evaluation.
The ''symptoms'' were there, clear as day, for us to see.
When I finally decided to step out of my denial of it and call Gavin's pediatrician, I cried that whole entire day. I cried on the phone with everyone I talked to. Even the pediatrician. I spent the next three months, awaiting the evaluation, crying about it. The thing about it is, I wasn't crying because I was sad about it. I'm not sad that my son has Autism.
A diagnosis doesn't change who my son is or who he will be. He already is and will continue to be HIM regardless. He was and is and always will be Gavin.
I cried because of my own insecurities about this unfamiliar word. And the stress of the evaluation had me losing sleep for all three of those months. What would they say? What would they want to do? Will he be able to get the therapy he needs? Will they say that it is in fact Autism? Or would it be something else? You name it, I thought it. My thoughts were endless.
I cried because I was worried.
That's really what it all boiled down to.
And I'm his mommy. And being worried about him is my job.
The evaluation came and went and I felt some sense of relief knowing that getting the diagnosis opened the flood gates for therapy. He is eligible for EVERYTHING he needs. And he's already started with speech and occupational therapy. It's relieving for me to see him become so attached to his therapists already. And in just a matter of months he has made some pretty significant progress.
He is using a few words, appropriately (Please- when he wants something. More- when he needs more of something. Etc.) He has started to take our hand and pull us to something that he would like (gesturing) which he has never done until just recently. He has started to repeat or attempt to say just about anything you ask him to. His vocabulary is enormous compared to what is was just months ago.
He's getting there. And let me tell you, IT IS AMAZING.
The biggest hurdle for him is his lack of communication. It has proven to be the hardest thing we have encountered thus far. Not to mention he has officially entered the ''terrible twos'' phase and both of those things mixed together is a perfect recipe for chaos. It gets to be pretty frustrating, for all parties included. But we are getting through it. Slowly but surely. I know it will get easier with time.
The only thing I have a hard time wrapping my mind around at this point is the fact that I don't personally know really anyone who has a child with Autism. So I'm left feeling a little, in the dark about it. I know Gavin has it. And I learned and continue to learn how it effects him personally. But it's just a big wait and see kind of thing. The evaluation was really useless, I feel. We go into the office, two different doctors run through a series of tests with Gavin. Evaluating his reactions and yada yada yada. Then 2 1/2 hours later they come in and tell you that after deliberation they have concluded that he has this diagnosis. One of the doctors sits down and explain what they say it means for your child and answer your questions and throw around a bunch of percentages (which is a bunch of crap to me). And then just as quickly as you walked in, you leave. They tell you that in SIX months you can schedule a follow up appointment with ANOTHER doctor to answer any other questions that you think of (which I would imagine after 6 months, would be a lot) and this doctor will discuss your child's progress and all that.
Let me just note my opinion here. I don't know how a doctor telling you as a parent, that your child may have 50% of this or that is supposed to justify anything. Obviously they have these percentages for their own benefit for scientific reasons or whatever. ANY child as whatever percent chance of, lets say, graduating high school and going to college. Having Autism, doesn't determine that. Not having Autism doesn't determine that. With anyone, it's a wait and see situation. A percentage doesn't mean shit to me about what they think my son may or may not be like as a five year old, or a ten year old or as an adult. He will be whoever he already is and is going to be. Though this doctor was a wonderful woman. Very kind and clearly very compassionate about her job. It still had me a little unnerved to hear the constant use of "he has a whatever percent chance of this or that''.
As you may be able to tell, it bothered me. A LOT.
But back to what I was originally getting at here. I still feel a little lost. With no real explanation of anything useful from the doctors, I'm left to just go with the flow from what the therapists know. They are wonderful, wonderful people. I'm hoping to learn more, from other parents, to help me better understand this new chapter in our lives. I guess what I'm really looking for is someone who can say ''I've been there, done that''. So I know I'm not the only one feeling like I do. I know they're out there. I just need to find them.
I'm not sure if all of this has made much sense. It's all jumbled together.
It's nice to finally write it all out. Although, I summarized it, so it's not a novel, I feel it gets my thoughts and our story out for the most part. I hope so, anyway.
This life is crazy. It's full of twists and turns.
It's wonderful chaos.
I love my life.
And I love my son. More than anything or anyone in this world. He continues to teach me more and more about life than I ever thought possible. He has shown me that being a mom can be just as confusing as it is rewarding. He has taught me that there is SO MUCH more to life than what we think.
He is the most amazing person that I have ever met in my whole 23 years of existence.
He is my son.
He is Gavin.
And he is incredible.
I wouldn't want him to be anyone other than who he is.
He is perfect.
