I was talking to one of my mentors today on campus and we wandered onto the topic of where my passion for pre-k education comes from. I realized I had never told her about Andrew's story...so I started with the bombshell autism diagnosis. Just as her smile began to convulse into an apologic frown I informed her that he doesn't have it and launched into the last 2 months of enlightenment, improvements, and validation from Dr. Camarata.
Her eyes filled as she confessed her son, now in his 30s with children of his own, had the same story as a child. She and her older daugter babied him and as a result, he learned to speak late because his needs were all provided. We ended up standing amongst other colleages in a tight embrace...two women with 30 years between us, and one very common experience.
Too many mothers know how we feel. We're given the wrong diagnosis and then, months later find out someone goofed, or worse...no one ever tells them. She only learned her son was ok after years of private school. She told me that he once overheard her apologizing to her daughter for all the attention he needed, saying he was different and needed more help. She still never spoke with him about it all, and I encouraged her to do it. His kids are very young and if they end up in Early Intervention...at least she might be able to save him the heartache by telling him how he was a late talker and his kids could be too.
I thought about our conversation all day and vowed to share this all with Andrew, when he's old enough to understand. I'm planning to turn my blog into a book for him so he can see what we went through and how he was able to rise above it all and achieve as much as he has.
This week at school was his best ever. He listened well, used nice hands and participated beautifully. Best of all, he had fun. We're getting there and I couldn't be more proud of my little man. So smart, so strong, so confident. I'm learning from him every day.
