I'm scared to type it for fear that it could be true. **If cursing offends you, move along**
We have known for a long time that Nathan was delayed in speech and communication. He started preschool and has already made some vast improvements, but he is still nowhere near where he needs to be.
Well, now, the school therapists, teachers, and resource specialists say that Nathan has a mild form of autism. They say it could be something called Asperger's Syndrome. My heart is breaking into a million pieces. I really know virtually next to nothing about this. Pediatrics has never been my forte and mental health ranks up there with pediatrics. But I can't help but fear for my sweet child's future. I hear the word autism and my whole world just shatters.
I want him to go to college or trade school or whateverthefuckhewantstodo school. I want him to meet a special person and have a lasting relationship with her or him. I want him to have a normal life god damn it. Haven't we been through enough? Hasn't our infertility been enough? Why us? Why him?
I'm angry today. I'm angry that I don't have all the answers right this fucking second. I'm angry that they think that there is something wrong with Nathan. I am angry that a small part of my mind is wondering if they are right.
The speech delay and sensory issues I could handle. Because I could fix those things. I could implement a sensory diet. I could handle speech and occupational therapy every day for a year. I could do those things because it was making my kid better.
What can I do know? I mean, besides sit in a little room on December 1st and listen to other people telling me what is wrong with MY son. December 1st is our case conference meeting to discuss the outcome of the evaluation. The evaluation that I received a copy of today. That clearly states that he has some of the markers for this diagnosis. SOME! What does that mean?! Is there a fucking gray area here? He either has it or he doesn't! And then I realized that autism is a giant fucking gray area.
There is NO cure for this. Sure, there a bazillion websites out there that prey upon parent's desparation saying "This IS THE autism cure!" and "pay a million dollars for the OFFICIAL cure to autism.". But there isn't a fucking cure.
I don't even know what to do right now. I can't even find what the prognosis is for someone with Asperger's syndrome (my fucking spell check doesn't even recognize that Asperger's is a word). Some websites say that kids do well with it and it just presents as some social delays. Other websites say that he will never be living on his own. And I just don't fucking buy that. My kid could survive without me here. I could drop dead in the morning and I know the house would still be standing by the time Brandon got home. He can get his own food and dress himself now. So it can only improve from here, right?! Or not, says the internet. Sometimes cases worsen over time. Well shit.
So there you have it. My sweet gorgeous child who I love more than the air that I breathe has this thing called Asperger's. And now I have to put on my mama boxing gloves and go to battle for him. You better fucking believe that he will have the best doctor in the state watching out for him. You better believe I will be getting him in every single therapy I can find. And you better believe that I will never, ever let this get him down. Fuck no. He is going to be president of the United States, ya'll. You heard it here first.