I am going to migrate some of my more relevant posts over from my older blog. Most of it will have to do with Jimmy and the whole autism thing. I decided that emotionally I couldn't revist the issue enough to make it worth blogging about, but there is some stuff that I wanted to preserve. This was posted in December of last year. It was when we had the tentative diagnosis, which was confirmed in April.
So I went to Target yesterday - pay the credit card, look for new Thomas stuff for boy senior, get diapers for boy junior. As I am standing there waiting, I look over at this boy. I am watching him - he's about five, but a large five, and he is impatiently waiting for his mother. I listen to some of the sounds he makes, the way he moves, and I realize he is autistic. Moreover, he is pretty severely autistic. As I am standing there, I immediately start the comparison. My son does that, he doesn't do this, he's made that sound before... before I know it, I am completely lost in thought until he bumps into me. His mother runs up and grabs him and kind of blurts, "I'm sorry - he's autistic." I explain that I understand, that my son has a mild spectrum diagnosis. Then she says "Yes, he used to be mild PDD." I felt my knees buckle.
For those who don't know, PDD is Pervasive Developmental Delay, one of the diagnoses being discussed for my son. It never occurred to me that there could be a deterioration or a reversal. In my mind, the worst thing is that he wouldn't talk until he was six or maybe talk very little but be brilliant, some sort of shy computer programming. The best case would be that we all worked hard, he would improve and everything would be normal and I could indulge my dream of soccer mom. What I saw in this boy at Target was a reality I had not considered. Until now. The more I read, the more I see, the more I really have no idea what I am up against, what the future holds for my child. That just kills me.
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