The diagnosis part 2

After about an hour of answering the psychologist's questions, we had made it through the first part of Mowgli's evaluation. Both my husband and I asked the doctor if there were any clues as to what he thought might be going on with our son. "Well, based on your answers, it doesn't sound like your son has autism. We'll have to look at the other data to know for sure."

My husband and I both smiled with relief. Two weeks earlier a speech pathologist had determined that Mowgli had a severe speech and language delay, but she also suggested an autism evaluation. When she told me her suggestions, I played it cool, I had known it was coming based on how she had tested Mowgli. She thanked me for being so understanding, and said that most parents get mad at her for suggesting that their child has autism. When we hung up I was shaking with anger. I knew what autism looked like, I'm an aunt to an autstic child, and in my mind my son did not have it. We would prove her wrong.

The psychologist sent us home with several tests for us and the speech pathologist to fill out, and an appointment for Mowgli to be observed by the doctor. Two weeks later, we had an appointment to discuss the doctor's findings. He started by explaining to us the results of the tests that the speech pathologist and I filled out. The good news, the S.P. and I answered the tests in very much the same way. That meant that there was probably no parental bias on my part. The bad news, Mowgli scored low for speech, social, and cognitive abilities. I willed myself to keep it together, and watched my husband's face closely, for any reaction. He seemed ok - so far so good. The psychologist explained that because his speech and language was so delayed, he could not get an accurate assessment of cognitive ability or IQ, which is why those scores were so low. He did not however believe that Mowgli had "MR" (mild retardation). The doctor's official diagnosis was Autism Spectrum Disorder, more specifically Autism.

The next hour consisted of my husband and I questioning the doctor's diagnosis. We played good cop/bad cop, we suggested getting a second opinion, and we repeatedly made him explain his process of coming to a diagnosis. At the end of it all, we walked out of his office resigned to the accuracy of his diagnosis. Despite the interrogation that we put the psychologist through, he would later become a friend, and the person to teach us how to advocate for our son.

The year following Mowgli's diagnosis was filled with appointments with therapists, teachers, and psychologists. We had our first ever IEP meeting, and my husband discovered his extrodinary ability to work along with the school system to get everything our son needed. My son started at a preschool for children with ASD in March of 2010. After meeting the staff at the program, all the first day of school fears washed away. I had finally met people who understood my son, the way that I did. I could tell they liked him instantly, and he liked them. The pressure of caring for him all day, every day, was being lifted. These were people who truly cared about kids like my Mowgli, and they didn't even flinch at his strange behaviors, or at our "helicopter parenting". They "got it".

While Mowgli was at school, I was finally able to spend one on one time with my daughter, and able to relish in her emerging personality. I was also able to finally examine my feelings about Mowgli's diagnosis, and begin the long grieving process.

Part 3 coming soon!