Parenting
By Emma Thompson
Updated: Sep. 16, 2015
Originally Published: Sep. 16, 2015
So, my nine-year-old son is autistic.
For two months, I sat down countless times, attempting to distill my thoughts into these three simple words: Liam has autism.
“Hi, Mrs. Thompson,” the school psychologist said one October day over the phone. “Could you come in this week to discuss Liam’s IEP results?”
Liam had an Individualized Education Program (IEP) since he began attending public school, but moving to Nevada required fresh evaluations and testing. No problem; I was eager to discuss Liam’s progress. He was thriving in third grade, and his reading and writing skills had soared. Among my children, he had transitioned from Germany to Las Vegas the most smoothly.
Sitting across from the school psychologist, I leaned in, expecting a brief and straightforward meeting. My husband was away on temporary assignment, leaving me to handle everything solo, but a routine discussion was manageable.
“So, isn’t Liam doing wonderfully?” I remarked.
“Well, yes, he’s an impressive child,” she began. “I’ve spent considerable time reviewing his IEP and speaking with his teachers.”
“Yes, they’ve been sending home great feedback, and he’s really excelling,” I replied, blissfully unaware.
“His evaluations from Germany were quite thorough,” she continued cautiously.
“Absolutely, we had an excellent team there,” I said, oblivious to her tone and hesitance.
Then, she paused, and with a heavy heart, she said, “After discussions with his teachers and speech therapist, we believe Liam may be autistic.”
Silence.
“What?” I gasped, feeling as if I had been punched in the gut.
“We’ve observed him closely, and I’d like to conduct a few more tests, if that’s alright with you.”
“Wait, I don’t understand,” I stammered, fighting the urge to throw my shoe at her. “We’ve had him tested multiple times since he was five—specialists, top-notch developmental psychologists. Are you saying they all missed this? That you’re seeing something different?”
She explained that while he’d been tested for autism before, many symptoms often don’t manifest until after age eight or nine. For instance, a six-year-old might not grasp idioms, but a nine-year-old should pick up on social cues and understand when someone is joking. Yet, Liam missed those signals entirely. I felt a tingling sensation in my legs, and my head grew heavy.
For a moment, all I could process was one thought: your son is broken. He’s not progressing or catching up; he’s not like the other kids. It’s more than mere quirks or anxiety—there’s something fundamentally different, and there’s no fixing it.
As a parent, it’s a humbling experience when you finally step out of your protective emotional bubble and truly listen to what someone is trying to convey. I had worried about Liam, despite reassurances from so many doctors. Were they all mistaken? Was I deluding myself?
Alone and without family nearby, the weight of Liam’s diagnosis felt crushing on my shoulders. For a fleeting ten seconds, I considered walking out, refusing to engage with the woman who dared suggest my child was different. “Okay. What’s the next step? If you think it’s possible, let’s proceed with the tests. Can we start now?” I forced the words out before I lost my courage.
After the first test (which required me to confront the small clues I had conveniently overlooked), I knew. I knew the results of the subsequent tests would confirm it. Even though Liam was the same boy I had walked in with, I had changed irrevocably.
I sat in my car, unable to leave the parking lot. I called a friend, and she let me cry, unabashedly. It’s hard to write this without feeling a lump in my throat. I can picture my beautiful boy, who loves to “spend alone time” with his terrarium. He’s charming, finds joy in the simplest things, and is kind and thoughtful, always worrying about me and his stuffed animals. And yes, he’s autistic.
Eventually, my husband reacted positively, feeling a sense of relief. Embracing the diagnosis was liberating. No longer did I have to fret about Liam’s quirks, food anxieties, or social difficulties. It all made sense now.
Knowing my son is autistic has transformed our lives.
This article was originally published on Sep. 16, 2015.
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In summary, navigating the diagnosis of autism for my son has been a challenging yet transformative journey. It has opened doors to understanding and acceptance, allowing us to embrace who he is and the unique gifts he brings to our family.
Keyphrase: Autism Diagnosis Journey
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