Today, I had a breakthrough. This may seem trivial, but on most days, my learning revolves around the limits of mental fatigue. However, today I came to accept an undeniable truth: My son has Asperger’s Syndrome. Although we received this diagnosis nearly two years ago, my journey toward acceptance has been slow.
Initially, when my son, Liam, was diagnosed, I dismissed it. With a decade of experience providing behavioral therapy for children on the Autism Spectrum, I thought I could identify the signs. When I first noticed traits in Liam, I assumed my professional instincts were merely heightened sensitivity.
That changed when his preschool teachers requested a meeting. What I thought would be a simple parent-teacher discussion turned into a presentation of a “Does your child have Autism?” checklist. To my dismay, they indicated that Liam displayed many of the symptoms. My anger flared. How could they presume to educate me about Autism? If my son had Autism, I would know it, right?
In retrospect, I realize their approach lacked nuance and sensitivity. Instead of citing specific behaviors, they relied on a generic list. This made it easy for me to dismiss their concerns; after all, I knew Liam didn’t exhibit some of the more visible behaviors, which led me to disregard their claims entirely.
In my frustration, I reached out to a trusted colleague, Sarah, who agreed to observe Liam in class. Over coffee, she validated my feelings, indicating that the teachers were indeed missing the mark and that Liam needed personalized attention to thrive. We agreed that having him evaluated wouldn’t be harmful, and given the lenient diagnostic criteria in Pennsylvania, it seemed likely he would qualify for support services.
In January 2013, Liam was evaluated by a physician with whom I had previously collaborated. I was confident he would see things my way. After I described Liam’s behaviors, he simply asked, “What do you want, Rebecca?” I realized I was attempting to use my connections to ensure Liam would receive an edge in life. I requested an Asperger’s diagnosis and services, and that’s exactly what I received.
The occupational therapist assigned to Liam was exceptional. He adored her and made significant progress under her guidance, learning essential skills for physical coordination and social interaction. He became more engaged with peers, tried new foods, and even overcame some of his routines. Similarly, the therapeutic support he received in school helped him come out of his shell, boosting his confidence and social skills. Despite my initial denial, I recognized the invaluable support these professionals provided.
Progress was evident: reduced meltdowns, improved social engagement, and greater compliance. Within a year, he was discharged from several therapies, and during his second evaluation, the doctor suggested that if improvements continued, Liam might no longer meet the criteria for the diagnosis.
When it was time for Kindergarten, I grappled with whether to disclose his diagnosis to the school. After all, the doctor suggested he might not need the label by that time. I feared he would be unfairly categorized, so I opted to keep it to myself.
However, just two weeks into the school year, I received a message from his teacher. Though her tone was gentle, her observations echoed the same generic concerns I had heard before. In that moment, everything hit me: I was not merely being protective; I was in denial about my son’s needs. Liam, a remarkably intelligent child, was struggling in ways I had not anticipated.
I promptly responded to the teacher, acknowledging that I had underestimated Liam’s challenges in a mainstream classroom. I realized that I needed to arrange a meeting with the school psychologist to discuss potential special education services to support his learning and behavior.
Ultimately, I owe an apology to Liam. By denying the reality of his diagnosis for so long, I inadvertently stigmatized his uniqueness in my mind. He is an extraordinary individual, and this diagnosis does not define him, but it is a significant aspect of who he is.
In reflecting on his remarkable abilities—his early reading skills, incredible memory, and passion for science—I now understand that it’s not about labeling him, but about recognizing and supporting his unique journey. Today, I embraced the reality that my son is not perfect, but he is perfectly himself.
The key takeaway from this experience is that accepting a child’s diagnosis can be daunting, and denying it will not provide solutions. What truly matters is the unwavering love of our family and the belief that Liam is destined for greatness, even if I stumble along the way. With newfound clarity, I am proud to acknowledge his Asperger’s as part of who he is, and I am grateful to be his mother.
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Summary:
The narrative reflects a mother’s journey to accept her son’s Asperger’s diagnosis, highlighting initial denial, the importance of professional support, and the realization that acknowledgment of autism is crucial to providing the necessary assistance for her child’s development. Through the support of therapists and educators, the family has seen significant progress, leading to a deeper understanding of and appreciation for her son’s unique qualities.