Jeffy was diagnosed with autism on Monday, February 22nd.
This diagnosis was totally different than Andrew's diagnosis. With Andrew's diagnosis of autism, I felt almost a sense of relief that I was right in thinking there was something wrong.
With Jeffrey, having already been in the difficult process of raising a child with autism, I kept hoping that the reasons for his huge physical and communicative delays would be something else...ANYTHING else. I remember even saying that to our pediatrician six months ago when she red-flagged Jeffy for an autism screening; "I just don't want it to be autism."
But the doctor was able to diagnose Jeffy even more easily than the other doctor who had diagnosed Andrew. Jeffy's savant skill of reading mixed in with his other delays made it easy. His inconsistent hearing, his echolalia, his delay in motor skills, his extreme independent play...yeah, it was an easy diagnosis. "Does he do this? Does he ever do this?"....yes, he spins, yes he flaps, yes he sings and quotes movies that have nothing to do with the current conversation, no he cannot answer or ask "wh" questions, no he does not seem aware of personal space, no he is not able to read facial expressions, well, actually he knows all of his alphabet, lower case and upper case, and can identify his numbers 1-14..., no he doesn't use imaginary play...
So while it makes sense that this is Jeffy's individual diagnosis, the part I am struggling with the most is that I have two boys with autism. My "normal" daughter is the exception to the rule of my children.
Does this sound hopeless, pessimistic, etc?
Forgive me if it does. It's not that I've given up on my boys.
I was just still battle weary from the ongoing first war. I am now fighting a two front war, and it is utterly exhausting.
