Parenting
By: Emily Carter
Updated: August 13, 2015
Originally Published: March 2, 2015
Today was a pivotal day for me. It’s not often I find myself learning something profound — most days, I feel like I’m just surviving the mental fatigue that comes with parenting. But today, a new realization hit me: my son has Asperger’s Syndrome. Although we received this diagnosis nearly two years ago, it’s taken me a while to truly grasp its implications.
When we first got the news, I dismissed it. I’ve spent a decade providing behavior therapy for kids on the Autism Spectrum, so when I started noticing signs in my son, Ben, I thought my heightened awareness was just playing tricks on me. That was until his preschool teachers called me in for what I assumed was a routine meeting. Instead, they presented me with a checklist titled “Does Your Child Have Autism?” and pointed out that Ben displayed most of the symptoms. I was furious. How could they presume to educate me about Autism? I would know if my son were on the Spectrum, right?
Looking back, I see that their approach was rather clumsy. Instead of giving specific examples of Ben’s behavior, they leaned on a generic checklist, which made it easy for me to reject their claims. After all, he didn’t flap his hands, so I could dismiss everything else they said under the assumption that they were just inexperienced teachers who couldn’t grasp the complexities of my son.
In tears, I called a trusted colleague, Sarah, to observe Ben at school. Over coffee at a local café, she comforted me. She noted that the teachers were likely missing the mark and that with some individualized attention, Ben would thrive. We concluded that having him evaluated wouldn’t hurt, given how easily kids qualify for services in Pennsylvania. Plus, having a therapist at school could only benefit him.
In January 2013, Ben was evaluated by a doctor I had previously worked with, someone I thought would heed my suggestions. I told him all about Ben, and he simply asked, “So what do you want, Emily?” I realized I was trying to navigate the system to ensure my son received extra support. I requested an Asperger’s diagnosis, TSS services, and Occupational Therapy, all of which I received.
Ben’s OT was a true gem, and he quickly formed a bond with her. She taught him vital skills like climbing, balancing, and even how to write his name. Suddenly, he was able to engage with his peers on the playground and expand his food preferences. His TSS was energetic and fun, encouraging Ben to play with other kids — something I absolutely loved, even if the teachers were less enthusiastic. Despite my initial denial, these professionals became invaluable to us, and I remain endlessly grateful for their support.
As time went on, Ben showed remarkable progress. His tantrums decreased, his social skills flourished, and he even began to eat a wider variety of foods. Within a year, he was discharged from OT and feeding therapy. During his second evaluation, the doctor hinted that if things continued on this path, Ben might lose the diagnosis altogether.
When it was time for kindergarten, I wrestled with revealing his diagnosis to the school. After all, the doctor speculated he might not even have the label by January. Hesitant to brand him with a stigma that might not be necessary, I decided to keep it to myself.
Just two weeks into the school year, however, the teacher reached out. Her email was polite, but the descriptions of Ben’s behaviors echoed the generic assessments I had hoped to avoid. Reality struck me hard. This wasn’t just my professional insight at play; my son genuinely needed support to navigate the challenges that came with Asperger’s Syndrome.
In my reply, I had to confront my misjudgment of Ben’s ability to thrive on his own in a mainstream environment. I had deluded myself into believing that his brilliance would carry him through. The truth was, he needed help.
We’re now in the process of setting up a meeting with the school psychologist to determine if Ben requires Special Education services. I know I’ll have to apologize for withholding this critical information out of fear. I thought I was protecting him from a label that could hinder his potential, but in reality, I was only hindering him.
If anyone deserves an apology, it’s Ben. By denying his reality for the past two years, I’ve unintentionally cast a shadow over his unique identity. He truly is a remarkable individual — my heart outside of my body — and this diagnosis doesn’t define him, but it is a part of who he is. His gifts are astonishing: reading by age two, winning a space trivia contest at four, and displaying an empathy that astounds me daily.
Today, I finally learned what I should have acknowledged long ago. It took countless professionals, tears, and self-reflection, but I’ve come to accept that my son, while not “perfect,” is perfectly himself.
The takeaway? This journey is daunting, and there’s no escaping it. Denial won’t help. Instead, the love of our family and the knowledge that Ben is destined for greatness — even if I stumble along the way — is what truly matters. I will embrace his identity proudly, knowing he is a unique individual who fills my life with gratitude.
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Summary:
This article recounts a mother’s journey of acceptance regarding her son’s Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis. Initially in denial, she navigates her professional insights and personal feelings, ultimately recognizing the importance of support and understanding. Through therapy and evaluation, her son shows significant improvement, leading her to embrace his unique identity wholeheartedly. The experience highlights the challenges of parenting a child with autism and the importance of acceptance and love.
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