Different. Not Less.

My son turned seven in August. He's in second grade. It's been eight months since he was "diagnosed." I always knew he was special. Extra smart. Had his little quirks that he had. Strange little habits he had. But nothing to odd. No big like "wow" eye opening things.

Flashback

Lets go back.

Kindergarten. His dad up and left us with no warning. I got him into counseling. The counselor and his teacher wanted him evaluated for ADHD. I did the questionnaires. Got them from his teachers and meet with his pediatrician. She supported me in not wanted to medicate him. We tried changing his diet. Setting routines. Met with the school. Things seemed to help but I wasn't convinced.

First grade. Met with his teacher and counselor. Pediatrician check ups. Updated questionnaires. I still was standing strong on not medicating my son.

December. This past December. We went to Disneyland. Me, my son, my sister, her son, and my mom. Between school and daycare I really only spent weekends with him besides an hour in the morning and a couple hours after work before bed. This was the first time in a long time we got time together. A full week of full time togetherness.

About half way through the trip I was already talking to my mom and sister about taking him in when we got back home. I knew in my heart something was off. And I knew it wasn't ADHD like they had been trying to label him for so long.

The Beginning

When we got home I started scheduling appointments. I met with his counselor the next time we went. I set a meeting with his teacher and pediatrician. I told the pediatrician everything that I had observed. And talked about everything that I had been noticing since he was a baby. I told her that I wanted him evaluated on a broader spectrum. So the appointments started. Then she talked to everyone to compare and we met again.

The Day My Eyes Opened

The doctor said she believed that he was very very low on the autism spectrum.

Okay? So what can I do for him? What next?

She said she would write me a referral to the autism center at Seattle children's hospital if I really wanted too. A year long wait list and IF he was accepted then it would be another 6 months of a series of appointments. And she really believed that it would only benefit me. Give me extra information and education. She believed that I was already doing everything I could be doing. Setting a routine. Giving him notice. Knowing the signs of what triggers an "episode" which causes him to go non-verbal and break down.

Here it comes

She asks me if I would be willing to do a trial run on medication.

My heart sinks.

I never wanted to medicate. Numb my sweet spirited boy.

Reluctantly Giving In

We agreed to three weeks. A blood pressure medication that helps the OCD and anxiety. Which was the major triggers of his fits. He would fixate on something and not be able to explain what was wrong.

We came back 3 weeks later and I was skeptical. I definitely saw changes. But I wasn't sure if it was because I was handling things differently with more patients and understanding on why these fits were happening so I was able to stop them before they got to the point of no return or if the medication was working.

I agreed to give it another month.

It's been about six months now and I can honestly say I see how it helps. He ended up being off of it for three weeks away in vacation and there was a noticeable difference when he got back home until it built back up in his system.

Eyes (And Heart) Wide Open

After that day of finally figuring out what was going on, nothing is different. My son is no different. He is still the same. Crazy smart. Funny. Sensitive. Loving caring little man is always was. It's me. I'm different. It changed me. I'm more patient. I'm more understanding and less judgmental. Of not only him and his actions but of other children. Now that I know how to help him everything is so much smoother and we are all so much happier.

Different. Not less.