Progress?

The past two weeks have been extremely difficult.  I still can't read that last entry without tearing up a little bit.  I don't know how parents of autistic children can move on and get past the initial shock.   I thought it would feel better by now.  Doesn't time heal all wounds?  That's what I've always been told.

Jim and I have been working consistently with Benny every single day.  We aren't trained professionals so I'm just doing what feels natural.  Am I doing it right?  I don't know...

I try and play games with him.  We have an elephant game that blows little plastic balls out of the elephant's trunk.  Benny seems to enjoy it.  He chases the balls around the living room and makes attempts to put the balls back down the chute so the elephant can shoot them back up.  It's very cute to watch.  He gets distracted easily but I try to get him back on track.  I've been taking two stacking cups and if I do it first and give the two separate pieces to him he will copy me and try to do what I'm doing.  He rarely did that before.

I am still struggling with trying to get him to do imaginative play.  He has absolutely no interest and instead prefers to fixate on small "pieces" of toys rather than playing with the toy as a whole.  Something we need to work on more, I guess...

There's been amazing progress in his interaction with his older sister.  It would break my heart every day to watch Layla try and try to interact with her brother and all he would do is ignore her completely...or, if she had a toy he wanted, try to bite her.  She was acting out and throwing tantrums probably because she was frustrated and felt Benny didn't like her.  I don't know.   All I do know is that it would make me so sad when she was sad.

The past two nights they've been playing together around the house.  They have this made up game of chase basically.  She'll run after him with her arms out and he'll run into the corner and just laugh and laugh.  Then he'll lunge after her and she'll run away screaming and laughing.  This goes on for a good five minutes.  If you had ever seen them together you'd know that is amazing progress.

I ran to try to videotape their first time really playing together and managed to get the last few minutes of it. 

It'll get better, right?  He will get better?  I just can't stand not knowing.  Will my beautiful baby ever speak?  I just want to hear his voice.  That's what I pray for and beg God for every day.  Just let me hear you say, "Mama."  Heck, even "ga ga" or "ba ba" would be suffice for now!

My Little Turkey

To Whoever is Reading This,

Please forgive me if this isn't the proper protocol or way to officially start a blog.  I haven't read too many of them until recently and wasn't even sure how to begin.

My name is Lauren.  I'm 26 years old.  I have two wonderful children.  Layla is 2 1/2 and Benjamin is 15 months.


I'm fairly certain my baby Benny is autistic.  Autistic.  Autistic.


That's the first time I've written or really even thought those words aloud.  Benjamin has been seeing our local Early Intervention services for about a month for speech problems.  He's never had any words...ever.  EI was recommended by my child's pediatrician.  I called them and he had his initial evaluation.  I was handed a bunch of paperwork after the first visit telling me he "passed" everything except the speech portion.

They brought some toys, had him look for a ball underneath a cloth, watched him eat a Cheerio with his pointer and thumb.  All sorts of stuff.

I watched as my son ran around my living squealing his own little squeal.  It's the only sound he makes...but at least it is a sound.  Sometimes I hear the "eee" noise too...

They left and about a week afterwards I was assigned to a speech therapist named Jenn.  Since I work full-time and my boyfriend stays home with our kids I've only met her in person one time.  We've spoken on the phone after each appointment she's had with Benny.  She always said the same things on the phone, "He did well today.  We played bubbles and he seems to enjoy physical play..." etc. etc.

Jenn called me to have a meeting to discuss Benny last week at 6:30 at night at my home.  I agreed.  I wanted to meet her and put a face to a name.

We had sat down on the couch and my boyfriend took the kids in the other room to play.  We started talking and about 10 minutes in she said to me, "I'm seeing some red flags of autism with Benny."

My heart dropped.  I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my throat, my ears, my brain.  For those few seconds my world stopped turning.  Everything seemed to be in slow, slow motion.  I almost felt like I was underwater and couldn't breathe.

I just looked at her.  And blinked.  And stared.  I don't even remember what my next words to her were.

For a few months now I've felt like something was "off" with my wonderful boy.  He makes good eye contact with me, loves songs and swinging around in my arms and having me bounce him and throw him in the air.  He just laughs and laughs and laughs.  Those are the wonderful times.

Then there are the other times.  The times where I watch him playing on the floor and find a tag to a blanket or an item of clothing and continually bat it with his finger like he's mesmerized.  Scratch, scratch, scratch.  The times I say his name one, two, three, four, five times and he never turns around.  Seems to ignore me.  I've often wondered if he's deaf.  I've come behind him and bang a pot and spoon next to his head and he's not flinched.  But...when the familiar "Sesame Street" theme song comes on his head whips around and he smiles and laughs.

There's also the way he doesn't imitate me.  I blow raspberries at him.  He laughs but doesn't try to do it himself.  I try to sit with him and read him a story and he won't have it.  He jumps and cries until he's out of my arms and can run around the living room.  He's always running, running, running and going, going, going.

He also doesn't sleep well.  At all.   Hasn't since he was an infant.  He wakes up most nights at 3:00 a.m. and doesn't settle down and go back to sleep until 6:30 in the morning.  He wants to run around in his crib and play all night.

Simple commands such as, "Benny, bring me the book!" go unanswered.  He seems to not even hear me when I talk to him.

Hearing Jenn tell me that word...that word that leaves a nasty taste in my mouth...autism...came not really as a surprise to me.  I had been thinking in the back of my head for some time if that was what was going on with my little man.  Still, hearing someone else SAY those words to you, hearing them almost confirmed by someone else hurt my soul.  I've never felt like what I felt that week after I heard that from her.

I've heard people use the term, "My heart was breaking," but never really thought much of it.  I've had people close to me pass away, bad things happen in my life.  Nothing could prepare me for that moment.  I finally understood what people meant when they say that term.  My heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest and shattered into a million pieces.

I tried to go to work the next day but it was next to impossible.  I ended up leaving early and going home.  The whole week after has been hard.  The very FIRST thought in my head in the morning is, "Is it REALLY Autism?" and it's the very last thought that is in my head before I go to sleep at night. I don't know how to get it out of my head.  It won't leave.  Like an uninvited guest that has overstayed their welcome.  Go away!  Get out of my head!  Go back to where you came from!  Get out! Get out!  Get out!

I never realized how many tears a human body could produce in such a short time.  I'll be at work at my desk and tears will start streaming down my face.  I'll be in the restroom and I'll start crying.  I'll be at the dinner table and looking at his adorable face in his highchair and start bawling.  I've locked myself in my bedroom and cried for hours...desperate, horrific cries and sounds that I've never heard a human make before.  I can't make it stop.  How do I?  I don't know.

 My baby...my second born, my first son.  My little Turkey.  That's what my boyfriend calls him.  His little Turkey.  The name kind of stuck, poor kid.

My days are consumed with research and information.  I make myself crazy with ordering all these books on Amazon and reading as much info as possible.  I look at this study, that study, supplements, vitamins, special diets, injections, different therapies, statistics.  I can't even remember half of what I read.  It all blends into one another because I'm overwhelming myself with information.

Jenn told me the next step would be getting in touch with a "Behavioral Pediatrician" and getting an official diagnosis, so that's what I did.  Unfortunately, because autism rate are so high there is at least a 3 month wait period to even see the specialist.  Thankfully, in the state where I live (Massachusetts) it's supposedly one of the best for autism therapy.  Benjamin is offered for free up to 25 hours a week of intensive therapy which is great news.  Bad news is - Benny won't have an official diagnosis until he gets in to see the doctor.  I'm scared to visit the doctor and get an official diagnosis.  The hardest part is just not knowing for sure. 

Tonight I was playing on the floor with him and there he was in all his glory...running full speed at me like he always does.  His little body and legs always on go, running straight into my arms.  There was a pause for a minute while I embraced him and then he was off again, onto the next thing.

I'm not sure what the future holds for us, but I do know this...I love my little Turkey with all my heart and soul and will try anything and everything to help him and get everything he needs.  The overwhelming love a mother feels for her child is amazing.  There's no comparison.

I don't know if anyone will even read this - but I wanted to document this moment even if it was just for myself.  So hopefully, in months from now, I can look back at this and say, "See, Lauren?  See how you felt then?  You don't feel that way now and you probably won't ever again.  It did get better."

"Turkey"