Autism: A mother's story

When my eldest son, George, was born, the Berlin wall had just fallen and Nelson Mandela was about to be released. Sometimes, those great images of freedom seemed ironic comments on my own situation. As I cradled my alert, healthy, bright-eyed baby, I had no way of knowing that he had an invisible lifelong condition that, 19 years later, would keep him almost as dependent as a toddler.

The Miracle Project

"Neal, please!" I begged, bleary-eyed, tucking my seven-year-old son into bed for the third time that night. "We've got to get some sleep." Neal just shook his head. It had been a difficult evening. First, at the dinner table, Neal threw his silverware. Later, he ran from his bath into his room. It took me an hour to coax him back into the tub, and even then he thrashed so much I feared he'd hurt himself. Now I kissed him goodnight on the forehead for the third time and turned toward the door. Please, God.… But Neal threw off the covers again and screamed. I burst into tears. I was ready to scream myself. God, help me find an answer for Neal.

Joel's Gift of Hope

I steeled myself before every visit to Mom’s Alzheimer’s unit. Not my son. With his eyes full of hope, he couldn’t wait to see his grandma.

I parked at the Alzheimer’s center where my mother-in-law lived and paused, saying the quickest of prayers. I glanced at my 11-year-old son, Joel, in the backseat. He was totally absorbed in the photo album he had insisted on bringing along. Joel has autism, and although I had reminded him that his grandmother couldn’t remember things the way she used to and might not be as interested in the photos as he was, I couldn’t be sure that he completely understood what I was saying. I just hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed by his grandma’s reaction.

Joel looked up. “See Grandma!” he exclaimed. Clutching the album, he bounded out of the car and up to the building entrance and marched in. I trudged along after him. We hadn’t even crossed the lobby when my senses were assailed by the smell of disinfectants and cafeteria food.

“Mmm, hamburgers,” Joel said, sniffing the air like we were at a barbecue.

Pale Blue Letters

Babysitting my friend’s son is always an experience. Jeb has been diagnosed with some autistic characteristics, but it’s not his disorder that gets to me — it’s the way other people react to him that can ruin my day.

Jeb is different. He isn’t interested in demonstrations of affection and rarely looks anyone in the eye. If you speak too loudly, he’ll cover his ears and scream at the top of his lungs. Touch him and he’ll cry out as if in great pain.

The Joy of a Newborn

As new parents will tell you, there is a sincere joy when waiting the arrival of a new member of the family. The anticipation of a baby to nurture, teach and care for is exciting and wonderful. The promise of the future and what’s in store for your little one makes your heart beat stronger and pride swell as you dream of great things for your unborn child. Will they become a sports star? Will they be an academic and go to college? Will they conquer the business world or help those less fortunate? Will they become an artist that makes people think in a new way? The possibilities of what is to come are endless. However, those dreams are often shattered when a child is diagnosed with a debilitating disorder.

Our son Adam is a wonderful, smart and funny young man. At the age of 8, he often makes people laugh with his funny sayings and exuberant energy. He has a smile that can light up a room and a way of seeing life in a refreshing way. Adam is very bright and loves to read. When playing sports, he loves to cheer on his teammates and plays to have fun. He is like other kids in many ways. However, he is very different in other ways, because Adam has autism.

Something About Benny

There is something about Benny that is strange. My little brother Benny doesn’t look strange, but sometimes he acts like he is from a different planet. He thinks he is a dinosaur, and roars in restaurants and growls in the grocery store. My mom tells him not to growl so loudly, but he doesn’t always listen.

Mom Asks for Understanding

The Flathead Valley is an awesome place to live, work and raise a family. My husband and I discovered this a few years ago when we were just visitors to this wonderful place that we now happily call “home”. Since leaving the big city in favor of a slower Montana lifestyle, we have been overwhelmed by the great people we have made friends with and the terrific schools that our children are blessed to attend.

Unfortunately, my family is frequently ridiculed in public places by these same good people when my youngest son acts out. The most recent episode occurred at a wedding rehearsal last week. My six-year-old son didn't want to be there, so I took him outside the church where he began yelling, screaming and being disrespectful. He wiggled around on the ground and wouldn't listen to me.

 

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