When Tyler was four years old, he was diagnosed with High-Functioning, Mild Autism. We could tell early on that he was not hitting his developmental milestones. He only eats certain foods, he never started talking, he would spin cars or line them up instead of rolling them. He loves to smile, laugh, and is a real thrill-seeker. But too much excitement, a change in process, or an exposure to the wrong texture or sensation can send him spirally downward very fast. As a mother, the emotional meltdowns are very hard for me. It damages me on the inside when Tyler is struggling through one of these. That is why I fought so hard to get him into therapy and diagnosed. Even though most people would look at Tyler and think he is a normal boy, what they are not seeing is everything else that is a big part of him. The part of him that is screaming for release the moment we are alone.
He isn't sure what to make of the other children at the playgrounds and he didn't talk until we were able to get him into regular speech therapy sessions, but for some reason the other kids gravitate towards him. Maybe they can see the pure joy on his face when he is scaling a rock wall or when he is zooming down a slide. I can talk to Tyler and know that he understands so much of what I am telling him. He delights in his little brother's successes.
I have struggled and fought for Tyler until I literally had nothing left, and then had to get up the next day and do it all over again. But finally receiving Tyler's diagnosis and taking steps towards advocating for autism awareness is providing me with healing. I still have very few answers and a lot of fears, but Tyler wants to laugh and be a little boy. Don't let this take your laugh. Having autism in your life is a different texture than you are used to, but that does not mean it is bad. Just different.
Jacksonville, AR
