When a Sweet Little Boy in Target Reminded Me of My Son’s Delays

654
654
8

Yesterday, my son, Leo, and I were in Target looking for fruit to take to a friend’s house. (Note to self: never go to Target for fruit). As I was searching for something halfway edible to bring, a little boy standing next to his mom struck up a conversation with me. He observed me inspecting the strawberries and informed me that he himself loved strawberries — that he loved blueberries, too, but not bananas. His mom didn’t seem fazed by his endless chatter but rather quite accustomed to her son, who looked younger than Leo, carrying on a conversation with a random woman in the middle of Target.

I, on the other hand, politely listening to this sweet little boy describe his love of strawberries and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, was a little taken aback. I looked over to my own sweet boy, sitting content in the cart with his cookie, staring at the lights above and lost in his own delightful world. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness.

As Leo gets older, the delays become more apparent. Family members, younger than him have far surpassed him in many developmental milestones. They’re well on their way to being fully potty-trained. They can tell you their names and ask and answer questions with ease. It’s difficult to watch my little boy have to spend hours in therapy each day acquiring language and skills that come so naturally for typically developing children.

Yes, it made me sad that this random little boy in the middle of Target — in the span of about two minutes — spoke more to me about his life than my own son has in his whole four and a half years on earth.

I wonder why it has to be this way. Why does Leo have to struggle? Why do I have to watch him struggle?

But then I think of all the ways Leo has spoken to me without words. The way he’s opened up a whole new world to me, how he speaks to me every day with his beautiful gestures, the most incredible hugs, his mischievous smile, his infectious laugh, his tears, the way he tries to give me (and all of his teachers and therapists) kisses when he’s trying to get out of work or knows he’s in trouble. The way his eyes light up when he sees something or somebody he loves.

And the words are coming. I know one day, I too will have a conversation with my son about strawberries and his favorite action figure in the middle of Target. Until then, I will continue to look for the beauty and meaning in more than just words.

ATT_1416519351086_2014-11-20_14.38.57 (1)

Want to end the stigma around disability? Like us on Facebook.

And sign up for what we hope will be your favorite thing to read at night.

654
654
8

RELATED VIDEOS

TOPICS
JOIN THE CONVERSATION

How a Vacuum Salesman Gave This Teen a Birthday He’ll Never Forget

119
119
1

Dylan Johnson loves vacuum cleaners.

This 14-year-old with autism, from Chesterfield County, Virginia, has preferred the cleaning tools to more traditional toys since he was 2 years old, CBS reported. Over the weekend Dylan celebrated his birthday, and to make it extra special for her son, his mother invited a vacuum salesman to stop by.

Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman Al Archie traveled over an hour to perform a vacuum demonstration for Dylan at his party. Then, at the end of the demo, he presented Dylan with his very own vacuum.

There was not a dry eye in the house,” Jodie Greene, Dylan’s mother, told the outlet.

Watch the video below to see more from Dylan’s vacuum-themed birthday party:

 

Want to end the stigma around disability? Like us on Facebook.

And sign up for what we hope will be your favorite thing to read at night.

119
119
1
TOPICS
JOIN THE CONVERSATION

The Comment That Reminded Me Why I Write Openly About My Son’s Autism

48
48
0

dom50 When my son, Dominic, was diagnosed with autism back in 2007, I spent two weeks feeling sorry for myself.

I think it’s extremely important to go through that process so you can move forward. During that two-week time frame, one thing I really wish I could have read was a blog post about having a child with special needs, what it’s really like and how it affects the entire family. I felt so alone — like I was the only one out there with a child with autism. And I didn’t want to read a blog that was negative but rather one that was inspirational and positive.

Before I started writing my blog in July of 2011, I had many doubts. Would anybody read it? Would I get a bunch of negative comments saying things like, “Are you some kind of expert?” or “Who do you think you are writing a blog!?” Since I have a business degree and not a journalism degree, I wondered if I would have enough material to make a blog interesting to read. Well, I shouldn’t have worried about that. Good grief, I could write posts three times a day. Anyways, as this blog has evolved over the past three and half years, one topic I write about often is Dominic’s autism.

I always try to stay positive, and I hope I inspire other parents of children with special needs to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. I hope when I write about my son, another parent out there in the same situation can say to themselves, “OK, I’m not alone after all!” Maybe even, they find what I write amusing and it puts a smile on their face. With 1 in 68 children being diagnosed with autism in 2014, chances are you know someone who has a child on the spectrum.

Earlier this week, I wrote a post about Dominic and I having a conversation. I later read this comment from a parent who has a child with special needs:

We are getting closer to this every day. I can’t wait!

Cool. Now, a comment like that is exactly why I write about Dominic’s autism.

This post originally appeared on bountifulplate.

Want to end the stigma around disability? Like us on Facebook.

And sign up for what we hope will be your favorite thing to read at night.

48
48
0
TOPICS
JOIN THE CONVERSATION

To the Mom Who Found Herself Asking, ‘Why My Baby?’

230
230
4

unnamed (86) When my son was born 23 and a half years ago, I thought — no, I knew — that the sun, moon and stars all rose and set because of him. My world was complete; it was perfect. When he was 18 months old, my world changed… his world changed.

It all changed with one seizure, followed by hundreds of seizures. Many, many hospital stays and tests later, there were still no answers as to why. I just wanted to know, Why my baby? 

I didn’t know that the seizures were not the only “why” I’d be asking later on. At age 3 came the autism diagnosis. Doctors were telling me all of the things my son would never do. I was heartbroken, not for myself — well, maybe a little — but mostly for him. I decided to research and research and research until I found that one doctor who believed in my son. He made all the difference. Instead of telling me the things my son would never accomplish, he gave me the hope and the passion to see the things my son would — and has –accomplished.

Screen Shot 2015-01-19 at 4.26.21 PM There have been other obstacles thrown in along our journey — Type 1 Diabetes at age 12, being one of them. But like the trooper that he is, he faces it head on. If I could go back twenty years and give myself advice it would be this:

 Do not let negativity trump positivity!

If there is a will, there is a way. And don’t try to be Superwoman. Ask for help. Involve others in our journey. Don’t think that just because they don’t walk in my shoes they won’t understand. Spread awareness. Do not ever feel sorry for yourself or your child. 

My son is now 23. He’s accomplished a lot, and, he still has way more to accomplish in his life. And I will be right there beside of him every single step of the way. My son is still just as perfect to me as he was the day he was born! I was right. I know the sun, moon and stars all rise and set because of him.

Want to end the stigma around disability? Like us on Facebook.

And sign up for what we hope will be your favorite thing to read at night.

230
230
4
TOPICS
JOIN THE CONVERSATION

The Day I Stopped Chasing After a Diagnosis

284
284
6

We spent more than two years chasing a diagnosis. A diagnosis would tell my why my baby girl couldn’t do things. A diagnosis would tell me when she would catch up. A diagnosis would give me a roadmap to this life. So I thought. I was determined. Turns out, I was wrong.

When my daughter was a year old, we got a new pediatrician who actually listened to my concerns. Our baby could only sit for one to two minutes and would rarely would put her hand down to prevent falling over. She couldn’t roll over, pull up or weight bear for more than few seconds. She tended to slouch to the right, her eyes rolled in/crossed and she kept her hands closed in a fist most of the time. On the first visit, the doctor sent us to a neurologist. The neurologist ordered a CT, then an MRI. He was concerned her fissures were closed so he ran more tests, but nope, they were normal. He sent us to a geneticist. She was sure it was Prader-Willi syndrome. I read, I cried, I accepted it. Nope, test was negative. I cried. More tests, more reading, more “this could explain it!” Nope, tests came back normal. I cried. The ophthalmologist said visual attention delay and pseudo-strabismus. More descriptions of symptoms but no answers. No roadmap. With each diagnosis marked off the list, I was relieved and heartbroken at the same time. She continued in physical and occupational therapy and made slow-as-molasses gains. She could use a honey bear cup, self-feed finger food, sit for a while, and babble. At 22 months she had an EMG. Normal. Except now we could add high pain tolerance to the list of symptoms. More searching. More tests. More waiting. More “This is it! Oh wait, test was negative.” More crying.

She got a rear position gate trainer at 23 months. She got around with help and Wheels and loved it. At 25 months, she rolled from her tummy to sit, she waved “bye-bye” and sat up for the first time in her bed. At 26 months she started scooting on her rear to get places and she took four steps using Wheels without assistance. At about 27 months she had a muscle biopsy and we waited forever for results. “Looks mitochondrial.” I read, I cried, I read, I cried, I accepted it. The specialist was out for several months on leave. I joined support groups as a silent observer. The day finally arrived to get the diagnosis. Mitochondrial will be hard, but it will bring with it a map. I was prepared. I had a plan. We would start supplements that can help. The specialist would officially hand me the diagnosis that goes with this map, but instead she said “I really don’t think it’s mitochondrial. The findings in her muscle biopsy are probably due to something else. I’ve talked with the geneticists. The next step is a whole exome sequencing. It’s the only test left.”

I didn’t cry the day we didn’t get the diagnosis.

Screen Shot 2015-01-19 at 4.17.10 PM I chose to step off the diagnosis-chasing roller coaster. And I could finally breath. I could finally see that my baby girl is actually 3 years old and could do so many things. Why can’t she do things? I am not sure. But she can do things because she works her cute little butt off, and we practice and try and are patient. When will she do things? On her own time. Now she is almost 5 and can do so many more things. She can drink from an open cup, say about 30 words, smile, dance, walk up stairs, go to “big school” (special ed pre-k) and so much more.

We still see the geneticist once a year. I like her and her nurse. One day we’ll do the test. But for now I’m busy planning an Elsa party at Chuck E. Cheese. Turns out I don’t need a roadmap to raise this adorable little girl. She can get where she’s going without it. Someone much larger than me has a plan. And I actually get lost even with a GPS, so it probably wouldn’t have helped me anyway.

For all of January, The Mighty is asking its readers this question: If you could go back to the day you (or a loved one) got a diagnosis, what would you tell yourself? If you’d like to participate, please send a blog post to [email protected] Please  include a photo for the piece, a photo of yourself and 1-2 sentence bio.

Want to end the stigma around disability? Like us on Facebook.

And sign up for what we hope will be your favorite thing to read at night.

284
284
6
JOIN THE CONVERSATION

Incredible New Invention Is Teaching the Tongue to ‘Hear’ Sounds

17
17
1

A research team at Colorado State University has come up with a unique alternative to hearing loss. They’ve turned to a different part of the body — the tongue.

Their developing device uses the tongue’s nerves to interpret electrical signals, according to Popular Science. Audio, such as a particular word, is taken from an earpiece microphone and turned into electrical signals that are sent to a mouthpiece using Bluetooth technology. The mouthpiece then creates a signal or pattern on the tongue that represents the spoken word. Eventually, the brain will subconsciously identify a pattern as signifying a specific word.

Dr. John Williams, associate professor in the Department of Mechanical Engineering and JJ Moritz, a graduate student, have spent a year testing prototypes, according to The Telegraph. They’re in the process of filing a provisional patent and launching a company to sell the device.

I’d like to make a good impact on the world and maybe change some people’s lives,” Moritz says in the video below.

Check out this revolutionary device in the video below:

Want to end the stigma around disability? Like us on Facebook.

And sign up for what we hope will be your favorite thing to read at night.

17
17
1
JOIN THE CONVERSATION

Real People. Real Stories.

8,000
CONTRIBUTORS
150 Million
READERS

We face disability, disease and mental illness together.