My younger son Nick was born in 1990. On that day I had my water broken. With each contraction, his heart rate dropped. The doctors informed me with each one, he was in distress. Hours later, he was delivered by Caesarean section. When I viewed my baby son, his eyes were tightly closed and he wore his disdain with a pout on his lips.
By all accounts, I believed him to be a normal baby. He suffered a high hernia and was prone to debilitating colic. When I tried singing to him, he cried worse. (Talk about a hit to my ego!) He wouldn’t allow me to read to him. Initially he wasn’t a cuddly baby. He would squirm from my embrace. I simply ignored it. I’d nuzzle him to my heart’s content.
It wasn’t long before he began displaying peculiar behavior. He was two years old when we noticed. Nick would twirl around and around in like a top without getting dizzy. He played with pots and pans like other toddlers would regular toys. He loved Hot Wheels cars, but he’d made them walk and talk, stroking them across his cheek. It was hard to potty train him; he decided to finally go just before he turned three years old. Direct eye contact was scarce. He would babble incoherently and flap his arms like a chicken. Loud noises caused him to cover his ears. He seemed to close into himself. When he became older, he was obsessed with deceased family members.
Although I noticed, I chose to ignore it. Every child is not supposed to be the same. However, my in-laws broached the subject about getting him checked out by a doctor. I was overprotective, holding firm he would eventually outgrow the abnormalities he displayed. Soon, the Husband pressed the issue and irritated, I made an appointment with our family doctor, if only to prove a point nothing was wrong with him.
But there was.
Nick had Autism Spectrum Disorder, a serious developmental social disability which affects approximately 1% of children in the U. S. Autism and symptoms of autism tend to emerge between 2 and 3 years of age, making it the fastest growing disorder in the U.S. In all, autism now affects 1 in 88 children. During Nick’s diagnosis, the percentile was smaller. ASD can be associated with intellectual frailty, difficulties in motor coordination and attention and physical health issues such as sleep and gastrointestinal disturbances.
I must confess I was crushed. Did my sins fall upon my son? Was my body faulty? Did I carry too much stress? As a mother, I felt I failed him somehow. Once I got over feeling sorry for myself, I had come to realize this occurrence was one of life’s happenstances.
His dad and I were determined to do the best for him. The Husband never handled Nick with kid gloves. He taught our son to tolerate loud noises such as thunder. I was his advocate within the Guilford County School System, never allowing his records to replicate him as “retarded” when he clearly wasn’t. I would take him to therapists, be available anytime his instructors needed me. I took him with me wherever I went. I exposed him to activities like the zoo, musicals, and plays.
The road to now hadn’t been easy. It had taken a lot of work and a lot of prayer. We were fortunate Nick was not as severely impaired as some of his counterparts. There’s what’s called ‘steps’ – 21 in all – which make up the total spectrum. The more steps a child has in his genetic make-up, the more severely challenged he or she may be.
We refused to treat him like an invalid.
To our delight, he is very smart and outgoing. Sometimes new things challenge him, but he adapts to various situations. Nick is an autistic person who maneuvers life independently. He has Asperger’s autism, one in which is high functioning. He is a stickler for orderly living. Everything in his room has a place and it stays put – unless his brother moves things just to get to him! He keeps his own banking account. He attends community college. He holds down a job. He drives his own car. He is extremely friendly, a proper social butterfly.
It takes a village to raise an autistic family member. Our extended family as well as our church family loves him without fail. Nick’s idiosyncrasies may be strange, but they are endearing and they are a part of Nick’s character. I stand in awe of his resilience and self-reliance. He won’t allow me to baby him. His gentle demeanor commands respect.
Having a challenged son has its rewards. Life through his eyes is more simplistic. His smile is my smile. His accomplishments have me shouting so much with joy he’ll hiss “Mom! People can hear you!”
On occasion I wonder what he would be like if he were “normal”, you know ..with a girlfriend, his own place, children of his own, etc. God has control over that as He had the whole time.
The clearness of it all is Nick is his kind of normal. I wouldn’t change a thing about him. He is indeed my angel on Earth.
