These last several months, my
family has been on a journey into a land that we never thought we’d travel to. It’s a place where you feel alone, but yet so
connected to others along the same path of discovery. Where is this far off land, you ask? Nowhere you’d guess…not Europe, not the
Himalayas, not some tropical island (but a lounge by the beach drinking a margarita
sounds nice). We’ve been thrust into a
world of worry, speculation, denial, concern…but mostly, a world that is full
of HOPE. Hope for our 2 year old son who
has been diagnosed with Autism. Well,
more specifically, diagnosed as “being on the spectrum,” or “having an autism
spectrum disorder.” I guess it makes me feel better right now to
say it that way, rather than actually speaking the word…autistic. But the truth is, he is very young, and only
time will tell us his exact outcome.
I’ve shared this news with just
very close family and friends, but lately I have been feeling a pull on my
heart to share Connor’s story, if not just to raise awareness but also to help
others who might be in the same situation we have been in since last summer.
April
is National Autism Awareness month, and I feel like this is my time to join
the fight.
Play my hand.
Jump off the ledge.
Get my feet wet.
And start spreading the word about this
developmental disorder that affects as many as 1 in 50 American children.
http://www.autismspeaks.org/science/science-news/national-survey-pegs-autism-prevalence-1-50-school-age-children
It seems like at least once a
week, I see an article in a magazine or a story on the news about autism, or a
friend or family member is calling to tell me about a story they saw in the
media. It’s everywhere. And with April being Autism Awareness Month,
it’s the perfect chance for me to share what I’ve learned about it. Spreading the word about it is so
important—the more people know, the more they will accept the facts…and now I’m
part of it. I want everyone to know how
special these kids really are.
I’m no expert on the subject, by
any means. I don’t know all the current
research, I haven’t read many books, or joined many online groups. But what I know stems from living with my
son, my baby, who is teaching me more about life and what is important than I
have ever known before. So when I can,
I will reference reliable online sources to supplement my story.
It’s hard to believe that this
journey began only 8 months ago. It
feels like my whole life has been consumed by this situation, but yet it’s only
been a tiny blip. And hopefully a few
years from now that’s what we’ll be able to do—look back on this as a blip on
the radar, that time when we fought and fought to do everything we could for
our son, so that he can have a wonderful life.
The path that led us here started
with an evaluation from Early Childhood Intervention, or
ECI.
It was decided that Connor, at 17 months,
was really only at about a 7 month level in his communication abilities.
This would be my first experience with the
terms Receptive and Expressive communication.
Receptive means the child can understand what
you are saying to them.
Expressive means
that they can talk to you, whether with words or gestures.
I took this so much for granted with my
daughter, who is my poster child for typical development.
So we were told to get his hearing checked,
and start interventional services to “catch him up.”
In a nutshell, Connor basically didn’t speak
nor did he let his needs or wants known.
He did not imitate.
He did not
gesture.
He barely babbled.
He wouldn’t look at anyone for more than a
second at a time.
He didn’t show me
toys.
He didn’t point.
After getting his hearing checked, we learned
he had quite a bit of latent fluid in both ears resulting from a prior ear
infection.
Tubes were inserted into his
ears, the fluid was drained, and his hearing was restored.
While we are confident that the hearing
improvement helped Connor’s ability to understand simple commands, it did not
do all the other wonderful things for him that were expected in regards to his
development.
Kids with hearing loss can
still tell you what they need or want, in their own way.
Interventional services started
with ECI, but after assessing him at his 18 month check-up using the CHAT test,
my pediatrician recommended taking Connor to a developmental pediatrician.
I remember taking this same 9 question
assessment with Isabelle when she was his age, quickly checking off yes to all
9.
When I filled it out for Connor, he
only had 2 yes answers (likes being swung around and likes to climb up
stairs).
Everything else was no.
I stared at it, wondering what this all meant.
Here is the link to the
CHAT test,
which is what sparked my doctor’s concern.
We visited with a developmental
pediatrician in late September, and after spending an hour with us, the doctor
told us to come back for a formal evaluation (
ADOS).
We left feeling ready for the full
evaluation, but both of us were still saying to ourselves that this isn’t,
wasn’t, couldn’t be the outcome.
At this
point, I did some research on toddlers with autism, and
one thing I want everyone out there to know is with all the current
advances in autism research, it is now possible to place a child on the
spectrum well below the age of 2, even as young as 18 months.
The sooner they are diagnosed, the sooner
treatment can begin.
And guess what—
GOOD NEWS ALERT!!!—kids that have
earlier intervention are shown to not only lessen their symptoms, but some even
lose the diagnosis all together (there was even a blip about this in Parents
magazine this month).
Here is a short list of red flags
that have been shown to be signs of autism in young children:
6-12 Month
Markers
Rare eye contact
Not babbling by 12 months
Not responding to name
Does not reciprocate (wave to someone who waves, smile at someone who smiles,
etc)
Apparent preference for objects over people
By 12 Months
Poor or no eye contact
Not responding to name (appears deaf)
Not imitating
Not gesturing by 12 months
By 16 Months
Not speaking single words by 16 months
Not sharing (pointing to) things of interest
By 24 Months
Not spontaneously forming two-word phrases (does not include echolalia, which
is repeating another person's word exactly without understanding them)
Regression or loss of any language or social skills at any age
Around this same time we had
started Connor in the same mother’s day out program that Isabelle attends. It did not go well. This was also a concern for us, because we
had him evaluated by his ECI therapist at school, and she told us he was
basically lost in that environment. He
cried non-stop, would not participate, wandered the room, and had nothing to do
with the teachers or other kids. Knowing
what we know now, this also points very directly to his eventual diagnosis.
October 5, 2012: D Day (or as we like to call it, Diagnosis
Day). Day that you will never forget,
day on which you will never be the same.
Because Connor is so young, the evaluator was mostly just playing with
him, and asking me questions. I could
tell where it was going, but still held hope in my heart for her to say
something like, “Who in the world thinks this kid has autism? He’s so normal!” Yeah, that did not happen. It was over, and she began calculating his
score. “Based on my results, Connor does
show to be on the autism spectrum, mild to moderately.” Ringing in my ears, pounding in my chest,
tears welling up in my eyes. The doctor
came in to review the test with me, but I was overwhelmed. You can imagine the laundry list of questions
that burst into your mind when you are told this about your child. What does this mean? Where do we go for help? Who can lead me in the right direction for
therapy? When will you know for sure
what’s going to happen to him? WHY? WHY?
WHY???!!!!!!
Now, at this point Connor was
getting 30 minutes a week of play therapy (trying to improve eye contact, get
more interactive play out of him, use words or gestures to communicate).
His prescription for autism treatment:
8 hours a week of
ABA
therapy.
I’m sorry, WHAT DID YOU JUST
SAY?
8 hours?
What happened to my 30 minutes a week of
intervention?
I was handed a few
pamphlets for treatment options in the area, and went on my way.
Here marked the beginning of a very stressful
few weeks of deciding what to do.
Making the calls to our parents
was difficult. There were many tears on
my end, but our parents were strong for us.
“It is what it is and you will do everything you can to help him,” said my
mom and dad. My mother-in-law thought I
was calling to tell her my dog had died because I was crying so hard! But when I got the words out, she calmed me
down and said, “Ok, what do we have to do to get him better? Let’s do it.”
The support of those who raised us has been remarkable. I can’t tell you how many autism parents I
have met who tell me their families are all in complete denial and do nothing
to help. We would be lost without the
support of our families.
I spent several hours that day
researching, and quickly found out that our health insurance does not cover ABA
therapy (nor do many of the insurance companies in the US). But with an autism diagnosis, we could get
private speech or occupational therapy.
Oh wait, you only get one 30 minute visit a week covered. Scratch that.
Call a couple ABA therapy centers.
$80 an hour at one place? No
thank you. $100 an hour at another? We’ll pass.
You do the math on it. When you
read that autism treatments can bankrupt people, you should believe it. It would have been possible to continue using
ECI for interventional services (including ABA) and do it for practically free,
but our experience with doing in-home therapy was not very helpful for Connor,
so we decided to keep forging on and find somewhere that Connor could
physically go to every day for help.
Also, knowing about Connor’s difficulty in mother’s day out made us want
to send him somewhere for “school” to get him out of his comfort zone, rather
than keep him in his little bubble at home.
The doctor said, “If your
insurance won’t cover ABA, call the
Brent
Woodall Foundation in Irving.
They
offer ABA at an affordable price."
This one
statement from him would change our course and lead us down a path full of hope
and caring.
I called BWF, and yet
another evaluation was in the works, this time to decide how often Connor
needed to attend therapy.
I had
convinced myself he would only need one or two days a week of therapy (it’s
amazing how great we are at feeding ourselves what we want to hear), and when
the report came back that they wanted him to be in therapy 5 days a week (10
hours total), I was devastated.
Here was
yet another person who I thought for sure would tell me that this is all a
mistake and to get back to a normal life.
That didn’t happen.
I was just
waiting and waiting for some professional to disagree with all of this, but
that day never came.
We also saw a pediatric neurologist who ran a
genetic blood test to check for abnormalities, which came back totally
normal.
Sometimes genetic disorders can
be a cause of autism.
This is not the
case for Connor, praise God.
He also
reviewed the Developmental Pediatrician’s diagnosis report and said he
respected this physician and agreed with his findings.
We made a plan with the Brent
Woodall Foundation and signed Connor up.
There are many different therapies for the treatment of autism, but ABA
offers scientifically proven results for the improvement of symptoms.
It’s fascinating to watch, and I encourage
you to head to the following
You Tube Channel to watch
videos of a little boy about Connor’s age engaging in this type of
therapy.
So, on November 2nd,
2012, therapy began. He would be going
from 10 am to noon, Monday through Friday, for autism therapy in Irving, TX, 30
miles from home to the Brent Woodall Foundation. The story of this foundation is
remarkable. Here is a letter taken from
their website from the creator and director, Tracy. She is an ABA therapist who was living in New
York City when her husband Brent Woodall was taken from her in the events of
911.
I
am pleased to introduce to you, the Brent Woodall Foundation for Exceptional
Children, a 501(c)(3) not-for-profit charitable organization. I created the
foundation in memory of my husband, Brent Woodall, who was lost in the events
of September 11, 2001. I have coordinated and directed home and school programs
for children with autism and developmental disabilities since 1993. Throughout
my career, I always found it difficult to watch families struggle through
feelings of bewilderment and grief after learning their children’s diagnoses.
This struggle often left families in a state of impotence in their fight
against their children’s disabilities. Since I began my career in psychology, I
have wanted to design a program to educate and empower parents so they may
battle their children’s disabilities without added financial burdens. After
Brent’s death, I decided that I not only wanted to continue my work helping
children with autism and developmental disabilities realize their full
potential, but I also wanted to honor Brent, who was always so supportive of my
work and encouraged me to start a foundation to realize my own goals. In 2003,
I created a non-profit organization, the Brent Woodall Foundation for
Exceptional Children, in his memory. The mission of the Brent Woodall
Foundation is to empower parents of children with autism and developmental
disabilities and to encourage their involvement in their children’s therapy by
providing educational training, customized academic and behavioral plans,
psychological assessments, and modest financial support. Our dedication to this
effort, Brent’s support of me, and our commitment to the children will be
carried on through this charity.
Warmest
regards,
Tracy
Pierce Bender
Executive Director and Founder
What this organization does for
families dealing with autism and other developmental disabilities is simply extraordinary. They offer ABA therapy and a host of other
services for families dealing with autism for a very affordable rate. But,
they are a non-profit organization that relies on donations to keep going.
Connor is also going to private
speech therapy once a week. He was
evaluated recently for his communication abilities, and they placed him in the
bottom 1% of all two year olds. It’s
scary for us as parents, but we celebrate his progress with such joy!!!
In a few months’ time we’ve
really seen some positive changes in Connor.
He is able to point at lots of different pictures in books. He calls me Mama and Brendan Dada (this just
started in March!). He will look at us
for a moment when he wants something. He
knows how to request certain foods or toys he wants. He uses a few words functionally, and can
repeat lots of words when prompted. He
can tell us whether he wants Mama or Dada to read him a book by grabbing one of
us. These are such simple things, but
great accomplishments for Connor. What
these accomplishments show is that he is transferring the information he is
learning in therapy to his life at home.
And that means it’s working.
But what challenges are we
facing? Most certainly the biggest
challenge is the unknown ahead of us. It
is very possible that with all of this therapy he will at best be off the
spectrum within a few years. That is our
constant prayer to God, Jesus, our Blessed Mother, all the saints and all of
our loved ones in heaven! So in the
meantime, we keep going. We keep going
because we want our son to play with other kids on the playground and not stay
off to the side. We keep going because
one day we hope he will actually want to interact with his big sister and us. We keep going because we know one day he will
speak a full sentence to us. And we keep
going because we love him. So much.
In April, I am going to be
implementing a plan to start raising money for The Brent Woodall
Foundation.
No, I am not raising money
for Connor’s therapy costs.
I am going
to be raising money
for the Foundation,
to help with the cost of running such an amazing place.
It is SO important that this organization be
recognized for the wonderful things it does, and I can’t wait to be a part of
that.
I have joined
Stella & Dot as a
stylist—they support Autism Awareness—and through my trunk shows and online
sales I can donate my proceeds to Connor’s school.
I can’t think of a better way to pay it
forward than to provide for the organization that is helping my son succeed.
I could go on and on about what
we’ve experienced, but will continue to blog about my sweet baby. Thank you to everyone who is supporting us
through this…you know who you are.
