On January 2nd, Oliver was diagnosed with High Functioning Autism (HFA.) I'm not sure exactly how I feel about it yet, except to say that it's basically the diagnosis we were expecting and we've just been waiting since May of last year to have it official. Part of me is relieved. Relieved that maybe now that he has a "label" he can get the assistance we need. Relieved that our concerns were accurate and worth-while. But most of all relieved that it's nothing worse. For the most part, he's a normal kid. He likes stuff most little boys like: trains, legos, construction equipment. He just likes them a little more passionately than a typical six year old. Especially trains, since August 2009.
The parts of his diagnosis that scare me are that I don't want anyone making fun of him, and I realize that can happen to "normal" kids too, but.... I don't want him looked down on, treated like he's dumb and people have to be careful around him or making things purposely easier for him. I want him to grow, and you can't do that without challenges. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to give him more than he can handle, I just want him to be able to do everything he dreams of doing.
It's been a hard eight or nine months. That's when we started the process of testing. Phil and I each thought over the past couple years that maybe something was up, but never (dared, maybe?) admit or say something to each other. When his Preschool teacher mentioned something at the end of the school year, it all seemed to make sense. I dove into making phone calls to his pediatrician's office, not sure where else to start with all this. Then I bawled. Not pretty, tiny tears you can wipe away with the back of your hand and look like nothing is wrong, but full-on blubbering, snot-running-out-my-nose crying. I also burst in on a friend at work (she's a Kindergarten teacher) to ask her advice and see if her school had any curriculum for kids with special needs. I felt awful to bust in on her lunch break afterwards, and even though we're very close, it felt uber unprofessional on my part.
After seeing his pediatrician and having her recommend further testing, it took a long time to find someone who could see us. Phil is so good about this stuff- he took care of everything from calling our insurance company to cold-calling just about every psychologist in the area. It seemed like most wouldn't take kids his age, or even more frustrating, wouldn't even answer the phone. When we finally did get a hold of someone, their office was a bit further away than we had planned, but they were great and everything else worked itself out.
Our next challenge is finding doctors/therapists that work for our family and for Oliver's needs. I've tried calling a local Autism group for any recommendations, but again, we're having trouble with people actually answering the phone. It makes me feel like we were given the diagnosis, then just thrown into the deep end. We're also trying to figure out exactly how we'll be able to fit everything into our schedule and not have our other boys feel excluded, and still be able to do stuff all together as a family. It's also tough to decide what to do about schooling. I don't know how we'd afford a private school with smaller class sizes, which I think he needs. He's only in Kindergarten, and I can tell he's struggling with doing the work. He's not dumb my any means, but I just worry about what will happen when the schoolwork gets harder. I know we'll make it work somehow, and God doesn't give us more than we can handle, so that's the good news.
Oliver is such a blessing and a joy, that I wouldn't want him any other way.
