I always wanted my son to go to Yale, but certainly not under these considerations. We dropped Sophia off to her Nana's house (her surrogate grandmother/babysitter) and off we were to Connecticut to the Yale Child Study Center Toddler Developmental Disabilities Clinic on Tuesday, November 26 - ironically, two days before Thanksgiving. We began his evaluation on Tuesday and and followed up with a further evaluation on Wednesday. Details are coming - a final report is expected within the next few weeks. But alas - all went as I anticipated, although, not as I hoped for.
After two days of evaluations, we met with the social worker and head of the clinic. They reviewed the results of his test with us, and when there was no more material to review, I could feel apprehension, the pending doom - the look of "How will they respond to this?" as they went on to give the diagnosis. Zach has been diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder.
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Friday, November 28, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Driving down the highway
We had left work and were off to pick up our beautiful daughter from the sitters. Steve and I have the luxury of carpooling together which is sometimes the only time we get to really talk to one another. This was 3 years ago, and I still remember it so well. We had just found out that I was pregnant again and we were totally excited. Would it be a son to complement our daughter? I thought about telling all my family and how exciting that would be. And then I thought about how lucky my family was, out of my 3 siblings, all the children were relatively healthy and happy, normal kids. I blurted out to Steve something on the order of: "You know, my family has been really lucky in the kid department, with the exception of a few minor issues, we have had very little go wrong. My nieces and nephews are all healthy. It's almost like my siblings were all so lucky - odds are in my favor that I won't be." That thought still lingers in my mind. Steve remotely remembers this conversation. Did I know something was up even back then?
I remember when they first told me at the ultrasound that we were having a boy. The dark room glowing from the light of the ultrasound machine, I could see my dear husband smiling like a young boy on Christmas morning. And if you knew my stoic dear Steven, you would realize how big that is.
And then there was the call from my OB/GYN. You're almost 40 weeks, she said. Baby is measuring really large, she said. You had a difficult birthing with your last one. Lets do a C-section. How I cried. I called everyone and asked what to do. Safety first, they all prudently reminded me. Stories of shoulders getting caught in the birth canal, broken collar bones, nerve damage. Go ahead I told the OB/GYN. Schedule me. I never had the opportunity to go into labor.
And just like that - he was here. Beautiful with 10 toes, 10 fingers, APGAR scores of 9 and 9. Big bobble head. And 9 pounds; no where near the 10.5 pound bundle they threatened me with. He nursed well. He slept well. He was so quiet compared to his sister who left the womb screaming and hasn't stopped since. He smiled at 5 weeks. Relief. He sat up and cooed and smiled at everyone. My beautiful boy. OK - so he didn't crawl until late. Some kids don't the pediatrician said. My mother-in-law told stories of cousins who scooted much like Zach did. All other milestones appeared on target. He took is first steps right at 12 months. He was saying Mama, Dada, baba, sit (he would yell at the dog). He smiled. He laughed. He was perfect.
A friend whose wife had given birth to their own little precious boy bundle just 3 weeks prior to Zach called one day. They were concerned about K.'s speech. Could they come over for a playdate and see how the boys compare? Sure. They come over. Zach says more words than K. K. also has some strange tendencies - like going through the house and closing all the doors, over and over. K. has temperament issues. But alas, they are not all that different with milestones.
Certainly, nothing was wrong. We were both used to our wonderfully intelligent, early speaking daughters. K. started early intervention for speech therapy. We held off thinking he was just quiet like is old man. Finally, after hearing stories of K's progression with the speech therapist - I give the doctor a call, we get a checkup, and he says go for it. Early Intervention comes and does their assessment and says speech twice a week for a half hour each. OK. The service coordinator remarks that we'll have him talking in no time.
If only that was true.
I remember when they first told me at the ultrasound that we were having a boy. The dark room glowing from the light of the ultrasound machine, I could see my dear husband smiling like a young boy on Christmas morning. And if you knew my stoic dear Steven, you would realize how big that is.
And then there was the call from my OB/GYN. You're almost 40 weeks, she said. Baby is measuring really large, she said. You had a difficult birthing with your last one. Lets do a C-section. How I cried. I called everyone and asked what to do. Safety first, they all prudently reminded me. Stories of shoulders getting caught in the birth canal, broken collar bones, nerve damage. Go ahead I told the OB/GYN. Schedule me. I never had the opportunity to go into labor.
And just like that - he was here. Beautiful with 10 toes, 10 fingers, APGAR scores of 9 and 9. Big bobble head. And 9 pounds; no where near the 10.5 pound bundle they threatened me with. He nursed well. He slept well. He was so quiet compared to his sister who left the womb screaming and hasn't stopped since. He smiled at 5 weeks. Relief. He sat up and cooed and smiled at everyone. My beautiful boy. OK - so he didn't crawl until late. Some kids don't the pediatrician said. My mother-in-law told stories of cousins who scooted much like Zach did. All other milestones appeared on target. He took is first steps right at 12 months. He was saying Mama, Dada, baba, sit (he would yell at the dog). He smiled. He laughed. He was perfect.
A friend whose wife had given birth to their own little precious boy bundle just 3 weeks prior to Zach called one day. They were concerned about K.'s speech. Could they come over for a playdate and see how the boys compare? Sure. They come over. Zach says more words than K. K. also has some strange tendencies - like going through the house and closing all the doors, over and over. K. has temperament issues. But alas, they are not all that different with milestones.
Certainly, nothing was wrong. We were both used to our wonderfully intelligent, early speaking daughters. K. started early intervention for speech therapy. We held off thinking he was just quiet like is old man. Finally, after hearing stories of K's progression with the speech therapist - I give the doctor a call, we get a checkup, and he says go for it. Early Intervention comes and does their assessment and says speech twice a week for a half hour each. OK. The service coordinator remarks that we'll have him talking in no time.
If only that was true.
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