Pedia: I would like
for you to see a specialist. I think your child may be autistic.
Hannds-On-
Mom:
Say what? (tears almost
immediately welled in my eyes and as hard as I tried to stop myself from
crying, I burst into tears)
[My son was on
another table busily arranging medicine boxes in a row, which I thought to be a
display of advanced skills]
Pedia: He exhibits
behavior typical of a child in the spectrum
HOM: (Spectrum?
Like a color spectrum…?) I’m sorry Doc (helping myself with a box of tissue she
automatically handed to me even before I asked)
Pedia: You need
to see a specialist. I can recommend one for you. You may also want to visit
therapy centers. The earlier the intervention, the better the chance for your
child to live close to normal.
[Please
Lord, this can’t be…]
HOM: Ok Doc.
Thanks. (How can I stop crying… smile – breathe in, breathe out… Why – why is
this happening? Why my son?…)
[When I reached
the car with my son and the help, I was still crying for another 10 minutes. My
son, oblivious to my emotional breakdown… the help, more oblivious.]
It took me 7
years of going through several downward spirals of wretched breakdowns to
realize that I was given a very special gift and one of the chosen few to
celebrate this gift. My son taught me to become the mother I could never have
been and in so many ways continues to help me become the person I strive to be.
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