My oldest son was diagnosed at 18 months with "moderately severe autism." At the time, 1998, only 1 in 10,000 children were diagnosed autistic. Information was limited and treatments were in their infancy.
The common assumption on the part of "experts" was that autistic children could not feel or express love, would never be able to communicate meaningfully or live independently.
The advice was to "do the best we could" and "get on with our lives.
"
If you are a parent, you know that advice did NOT sit well with me! No way was my child going to spend his life lining up toy cars, flapping like a bird and struggling to make the most basic requests known.
I made the decision that while my child might be suffering from Autism, he would NO BE CONTROLLED BY IT! This was the biggest challenge I had faced in my life and I was gearing up for battle. It was all out war!
I spent hours and hours searching the internet for anything related to autism.
I learned everything I possibly could.
I became an expert in the field. I learned about various symptoms, tests, and treatments.
To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement, however there was no time to freeze from over-load. Autism is a quicksand.
If you are not actively pulling your child out of the pit, you child will be pulled into it.
I was determined to pull my son out.
.
.
and fast!
The next 4 years were a blur of constant prayer, therapy sessions, doctor appointments and more therapy. On top of the 50 hours a week of therapy, I put my son on a strict Gluten and Casein free diet.
This was years before gluten-free was in vogue so I spent a lot of time cooking from scratch and a lot of money ordering special gf foods on-line.
Autism had literally taken over my every moment, every thought, every once of energy I had.
There was no down time.
No quiet moments.
If he was awake, he was in treatment and I was either leading it or supervising it. I was constantly exhausted.
But it was worth it!
After four years of intensive therapies and treatment, my son was talking, making eye contact and even had a friend.
He gave great hugs, loved to read and be read to, played little league and adored Sponge Bob.
By everyone's standards he was "fine." But I knew He stilled struggled with certain autistic behaviors and I wouldn't rest until he was completely recovered.
Telling people your autistic son is "in recovery" is a radical statement, especially at that time. People around me urged me to "leave him alone" and "just relax. He's fine.
" But the war was not won yet and my son and I weren't done fighting.
Fast forward to today: My son is now 17 and graduating from High School in May.
I just paid his registration fee for college where he is planning to major in.
.
.
communications! (I often dream of calling his old doctors and telling them that the child they said would never speak in entering college as a communications major!) He is a gifted writer with aspirations of being a novelist.
He has many friends, has crushes on girls, serves as a deacon in our church, is learning to drive and applying for his first job.
He plays the guitar, loves sports and has a wicked sense of humor. While he is still on a gf/cf diet he no longer needs any other treatments or therapies.
Now, the war is over.
Looking back over these years, I see how strong the human spirit truly is, how resilient to wounds and injuries our hearts truly are, and how much we accomplish when we are absolutely convinced that we MUST.
Great struggles loom around every corner.
You may be facing the greatest struggle of your life right now.
You may overwhelmed at the mountain that lies in front of you.
I hope my son's and my story of struggle and triumph encourages you.
You can do so much more than you ever though possible.
My son and I did.
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