Chronicles of an Autistic Child Chap. 1

Chapter 1

The first thing my mom was told about me was when I was three months old and diagnosed with asthma. I was put on breathing treatments. I hated those because I had to wear a mask and it felt weird.

Don’t get me wrong my mom is a strong lady, she has faced most of the problems with me all by herself. I admire my mom a lot for the courage that she has always shown. That was really the only thing that happened in my first few months. It wasn’t until I was a year old that my mom started noticing that I was different.

When I reached my first birthday and had not yet learned or even attempted to learn to walk or talk, that is when my mom became worried. She began then to suspect that I was not a normal baby, and she was right. I was not even babbling like most babies do when they are young and trying to get the understanding of using their lungs and mouths.

You see for my mom it was difficult to understand why I was not walking or talking. I mean my older sister started talking at six months

old and was walking at around the same age. Why was I so different? Was I meant to challenge my mom?

I did not know and neither did she. Finally, at eighteen months old I began to try my feet out and take my first steps. At twenty-two months, I was diagnosed with my first diagnoses, it was called Pervasive Development Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS). Do you know what that is? I’ll explain, PDD-NOS is a mild way of saying that a child is not developing correctly or at the pace that the people around them believes that they should, but yet they also do not know why that child is not developing normally.

However, that diagnoses was changed when I reached thirty-three months of age. I was then diagnosed with High-Functioning Autism (HFA). The doctors told my mom that I had to have therapy to learn a different way to communicate so that I could talk to her. So, mom signed me up for a program called Babies Can’t Wait.

The therapist came to visit with me at home, so that I would be more comfortable. She began to teach me about my body parts, by singing a song with me every time she came. She also taught me and my mom how to use a few ASL (American Sign

Language) signs to help us be able to communicate. I thought that was pretty cool.

With this new knowledge of being able to talk with my hands, it then made it easier for me to communicate with my mom. I was able to tell her what I needed, and she was able to understand me. It was amazing finally being able to tell my mom things even if it was just with my hands.

This is how my second year of life proceeded. I’d sign something with my hands and my mom would understand me and help however she was able too.