Hiatus Explained

You may have noticed a drought in posting around here. I've lost my sense of humor.

Zed was a late crawler and walker. He still doesn't speak. Eventually, we stopped labeling him as a "late bloomer" and became concerned. And after several rounds of testing, we heard the words no parent wants to hear: "Your son has autism."

Ella first brought up the possibility of autism right before Zed's second birthday. I didn't want to believe it at first. He didn't and doesn't display some of the characteristics of a child with autism. He makes eye contact. He's very affectionate and loves to be held and hugged. He smiles and laughs a lot. But as I'm slowly wiping away my ignorance through research, I'm realizing autism is so much more than that.

Lately, our days have been spent with social workers, education and speech therapists, child psychologists, and pediatricians. Talking to neurologists about CAT scans and genetic testing. Researching the therapies available. Meeting with other families with autistic children. We have met many great people so far that have helped us cope with and understand what Zed's going through. I am very grateful.

But the thing I've been struggling with the most is the future. The uncertainty. I know as parents we all worry about our children's futures. I wonder is Zed will ever play Little League ball. I wonder if he'll fall in love. I wonder if he'll ever say, "I love you, Daddy."

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If you have any concerns about the development of your child, please review the Autism Society of America's characteristics of autism. Early intervention is the key in treating autism.

I hope to return to writing next week after we give ourselves a little more time to process everything. Writing is therapeutic. Writing this has been hard, but in a way it feels better to expel these thoughts from my head.