THE BEGINNING
When I was told I was having a boy, it was the best news of my life.  He was born in January of 2003. I adore everything about being a mommy.  There is nothing more rewarding than being a parent.  As my son began developing, in his first year he developed normally. He babbled a little, and then when he should have been talking I noticed he wasn't.  I voiced my concerns with his pediatrician she said that boys develop slower than girls.  She being the professional I said okay and I waited. By the time he was 18 months he still was still not talking and I noticed he did not play with his peers, he was often alone in a corner in his own little world, contently playing 

My son's was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS) (click her to see my process). 

MY DENIAL PHASE
I was in shock.  When I was in college I took some special education courses and they covered autism briefly.  I remember thinking at that time what a terrible thing for a parent to have to go through.  And now here I was going through this terrible thing.  

When I got home I looked at my son and said he doesn't’t look autistic (as if it would be visible).  I couldn’t believe it. The therapists had to be wrong.  I did research on his specific diagnosis and that didn’t help.  I started to re-live my pregnancy in my mind, because I had to have missed something in the pregnancy.  I had gestational diabetes so I thought it was that.  I had him at 40 so it had to be that also.  But there was no research or proof that any of those two caused this terrible thing.  I made sure that my son had all his shots on time.  I took him to all his doctors’ appointments on time.  I followed the pediatrician’s instructions to the letter. But still it had to be my fault.

Once my son started early intervention, I told those that inquired about him going to school that he wasn't talking yet and he was going to a special school to help him.   I didn’t want to tell anyone that about his real diagnosis.  I knew I would be blamed solely because I had him at 40 years old. Because family can be cruel, I didn't tell them for a long time. 

Even though I was dealing with many mixed emotions regarding myself and what I could have done wrong to cause this - I did not delay the very important and necessary therapy that was vital to his development.

LETTING OTHERS IN
Once I got beyond what others "would" think, I started telling the whole story, that included he wasn't talking because of his diagnosis.  I was really surprised at the response.  People started asking questions about the type of care he was getting and where. Most individuals were interested in what prompted me to get him diagnosed.  The answer is always "he wasn't talking when I thought he should be". 

The hardest people to let in is family.  As I forestated family can be cruel. My family in particular like to use phrases like "people like him" or they like to treat him as if he is slow.  That infuriates me because if you treat him like he has limitations, he will never excel.  So with family unfortunately I never permit him to go without me being present.  When I needed a break, I left him with a family member and they kept him in a stroller for most of his stay there.  He hasn't been back there overnight.

MOVING ON
The first stage in development is "Early Intervention". The earliest the child starts therapy the better.  In New York City children can begin early intervention at 7 months old.

The first day of EI the parent/guardian is required to accompany the child to the center and stay the full time.  It was scary and a relief for me. Scary because I had no idea of what to expect and how my son was going to react.  Relief because your child is ging to get the help he needs.