Accomodations vs. Exclusion

Sharon left a comment on this earlier post. This is her reply:

It's a double edge sword. It's great that AMC is accommodating.

But it sucks that we have to go to a "special" time because most people don't understand and are not willing to accept.

I think what she says is so true. I was hesitant to comment that my initial reaction about these "special move showings" was very mixed. I too think it's nice when businesses (as well as schools!) make accommodations, and this is no exception. There is a theater about 40 minutes away who also offers such showings. We've never gone, because of the drive. Also, for now, the 2-3 times per year we go to the movies, things have gone fine. I was startled reading this article, as my child has gotten up and danced around, jumped, scooted up and down the steps. So far, and I guess we are lucky, no one has complained. We try to go to shows that are less crowded, prepare my daughter ahead of time, and always have an aisle seat.

I suppose if my child were kicked out of a movie, I would drive the extra distance to the special showing. However, at the same time, I think I would take extreme issue with the theater. I would certainly let my views heard, to say the least. I have been in the movie with a baby crying (and not just for a second, I mean repeated crying, and this was in an R-rated movie). We all see the obvious "turn off your cell phones!" messages on the big screen--and yet, phones ringing is still an issue. Plenty of adults are annoying in the theater--critiquing each part or just talking aloud. In every children's movie I have gone to see, there's always been at least a couple of children speaking or whispering, laughing louder and longer, etc. The point is--whatever movie you are seeing, chances are there will be some distraction. You are in public, people. What do you expect?

It would be nice if the public wouldn't simply point at our children and say their behavior is unacceptable. It's a double-standard. If you truly cannot sit in a public theater and put up with some noise or distraction, then I suggest you stay home and rent a movie. The same goes for you if you are at a family restaurant (I'm talking about say Chili's, Friday's, etc. not Tavern On the Green!) and a child is "annoying" you. Stay home! If you go out into public, you must be tolerant of others, plain and simple.

One the flip side of that, I do appreciate special accommodations. My child happens to do fairly well in theaters, but I can see the benefit of lower sound, altered lighting, and no trailers. I can see this as being the only way for some families to attend the movies together. There is something to be said about being in a comfortable environment, where everyone understands your child. I know that when we get together with families from my daughter's special ed class, it seems to be an easier, more relaxed time. None of us need to explain or feel judged if our child behaves a certain way. No one stares if our child stims or has a meltdown. We've all "been there, done that." It is so nice to be with a group that you can relate to, and who relates to you. It feels safe, and I suspect our children feel the same way.

It would be nice if our children would all be accepted, and society would be more tolerant. I think, as messages like this come into the mainstream, we will get closer to that. For now, it seems like a nearly unattainable Utopia, and as such, our only option may be separate programs (in some cases) for our children. I do push strongly for inclusion, no doubt. But, I do see a place for special accommodations--even if that may mean exclusion some of the time.

Doctors & Scents

I brought my youngest to the doctor the other day. Her regular physician was not available, so we met with a nurse practitioner. Most everyone at the pediatrician's office knows my daughter, and more importantly, how to make her feel comfortable. This NP, just our luck, was new and one we'd never met. The NP was really sweet, I think she must have gotten a primer on how to approach my daughter by the nurse (I'm not kidding!). I have to say, my little one did great, despite having never met her.

What wasn't so great, was the overpowering smell of the NP's perfume. It was very strong. I will never understand why someone in the field of medicine would wear any scent, or at least not a very strong one. I'm not sick, and it made me feel like I needed to cough.

Now, I will admit, I may be a bit biased to begin with. I have never really enjoyed heavy scents. When I do wear perfume, it is a very light scent. I myself do not wear any perfume or scented lotion if we are headed to a doctor's office.I do this generally because I consider those with asthma and other breathing difficulties, allergies, colds, nausea, etc. who are more than likely sitting in the waiting room. Another reason, is because I consider those who may be extra-sensitive to such smells, like my child.

My daughter is very much affected by smell (a super smeller and taster here!). She will gag in the grocery store, pick up on odors I never even catch, and refuses to sit by us if we are eating certain foods (plain lettuce for one, believe it or not). So, in our home, we've all taken note of that and try our best not to insult her delicate olfactory system. And also, to not be insulted ourselves should she gag or scrunch up her nose at us or our food.

I realize I can't create some bubble around her to prevent her from smelling odors. There's far too many people, food varieties, buses, and so on in this world! I do hope that one day she is able to tolerate at least some of the day to day smells--like various foods. But, it would be nice if those in the medical profession would take into account their patients' needs (and not just my sensory-sensitive kiddo, the patients with the ailments I listed above too). One would think, that those who work in hospitals and doctor's offices, would take that into consideration.

That's just my two scents...

My Autism Everyday: Autism Knocked On The Right Door

“Autism knocked on the wrong door.”
It's the quote heard round the world, from Suzanne Wright, co-founder of Autism Speaks and grandmother to an autistic child. It's been bounced around for a couple of years now, but it's one of those lines that always runs through my mind. It's really irritated me. It's supposed to be a rallying cry, I suppose. For anyone who has seen Autism Everyday, it starts to sound more like an invite to a pity party.

For me, I find it hard to separate autism from the individual. So, when I hear something like autism coming to the wrong door (family), I read this child came to the wrong family. A burden is deeply implied in that statement. I never prayed for a special needs child. During my pregnancy, I didn't dream of doctors' visits, surgeries, medication, or therapies. I don't think an expectant parent ever wishes for that. I remember thinking how easy the second-time around would be. We'd already been through the concerns and struggles first-time parents contend with. We were all done with that, we were seasoned veterans. People complimented my husband and I on our parenting skills, and we were applauded for the amazing "job" we were doing with our daughter. She was polite, outgoing, and intelligent. We received nearly all the credit for that. ;)

My second pregnancy was very different from my first. I was nauseas for the first 5 months, other than that, I actually felt better with my second pregnancy. I felt like I knew what to expect, the hows and whens of all that comes with bringing a new baby home and raising a child. We were so excited and couldn't wait to expand our family.

Our second child was blue and not crying when she was delivered. My heart sank, that is a horrible feeling. You expect joy and celebration in the delivery room. Not silence, with doctors and nurses descending upon your child, and nurses cautiously smiling at you, reassuring you it will be okay. I laid there, watching them assisting my little baby, trying to get her to breathe. My husband and I would nervously glance at one another, and then back to the crowd hovering over our baby. The medical team was successful, and started walking toward me so I could finally hold her. My sigh of relief was interrupted when the doctor paused and had to bring her back to the bassinet, she stopped breathing on her own, again. This time, she quickly responded to their help, I was able to briefly caress her cheek before they whisked her away.

That was my first clue that the second time around may not be a piece of cake. The next day, we found out our daughter had two holes in her heart. She also developed jaundice that required therapy for a week following her birth. Shortly thereafter, the reflux and stomach issues began. The bumpy road continued. It wasn't long before my husband and I realized that this was unlike anything we'd gone through with our first child. All the experience that we'd gained, all the answers we thought we had, now meant very little. I donated my "What To Expect The First Year" book, and realized my daughter was going to write her own book. I had to look within myself to find strength, not a book. We surrounded ourselves with supportive family and friends, and listened to the professionals we had sought out. It wasn't going to be easy--but how does the saying go? Nothing worth it ever is.

I believe that all the challenges I faced growing up, all the experiences I've had to this point, all prepared me for raising my child. I wrote early on, about not particularly liking the praise I receive for "how I am" with my daughter. To me, it's natural. I am her mother, we are her parents, we love her. That's all there is to it. Perhaps some of us have an innate sense of caring for a child with special needs and/or autism? Maybe there are those of us who deep in our hearts realize every child, every person, deserves respect? I suppose it is possible that there are some that are better-suited to raise an autistic child than others. I for one see my daughter as a blessing, she has taught us so much, and has brought great joy to so many. All of our family, friends, and neighbors have delighted in seeing her develop and blossom. They smile each time they see her.

I can say that Autism knocked on the right door. My daughter receives nothing but love, acceptance, understanding, and patience from us. I'm honored that I get to be her mom, and have her in my life. I am also so grateful that my daughter's grandmothers (and grandfathers, for that matter) have never and would never use such a phrase, when referring to her. No, instead they have offered nothing but love, encouragement, and prayers. They have supported us from day one, always willing to listen with an open-ear to our thoughts, and what we felt was best for our child. I know, that regardless of how of my child is doing 10 or 15 years from now, our family will be there for us, and more importantly, for her.

This Whole Mito Thing (My Final Vent...Hopefully!)

This began on AutismVox when comments began rolling in here over the supposed autism-vaccine case that the Government conceded on. Truth is, it was a mito-vaccine case, and people who feel vaccines caused their child's autism have no reason to celebrate over this. The government is not declaring that vaccines cause autism, or mito, or anything. While I disagree with the government's decision on this one, I also see how very different it is from the autism-vaccine cases. For one, this one could actually prove that vaccines MAY have done harm BECAUSE of the mitochondrial disease. I still don't feel there was a case here, I think this child would have been diagnosed with mito vaccines or not.

Here is my comment I posted on AutismVox:

FYI...vaccines ARE recommended for children with mito!!!! Some are advised to avoid a shot, ONLY if a history of bad reactions exists (which holds true for the general population). My friends whose children have mito ALL vaccinate their children and are mortified by people who opt to not give shots to their kids because of quack science (vaccines=autism). Those un-vaccinated children put my child and my friend's children at risk for contracting serious diseases. Diseases that most certainly would land a child with mito in the ICU & possibly kill them.

Go here: http://www.umdf.org/site/c.dnJEKLNqFoG/b.3616911/apps/s/content.asp?ct=4211851 and read. I will also add, it is HIGHLY unlikely that a child with autism has mito, especially if that child has never been hospitalized, doesn't have severe health issues, eats on their own, there is no muscle-wasting, vision impairment, heart defects, etc. Read more about mito at umdf.org & see how autism doesn't equal mito, and how this case has nada to do with what Kirby is fighting for!

From a "mito mom" on a message board:

"For mito kids with no history of reaction, no family history of reaction, etc... the general agreement is that vaccines are not only reccomended but htey are more critical, as viruses are so dangerous for mito kids."

And, from actual doctors who work with mito patients:

To our understanding - it is not the immunizations themselves that are harmful in mitochondrial disease - but rather the potential for associated fever after the injection, since a fever might precipitate a "metabolic crisis."

In regards to immunizations and autism, medical authorities on the matter world-wide feel that there is nothing about the vaccines or the mercury in them that cause autism. There may potentially be a subset of children inherently at risk of autism that have their symptoms become more noticeable after any illness - including the fever brought on by immunizations. However, there is no good medical evidence to support such a theory either.

Your son seems to have had both, an allergic reaction (splotches) and regression (autistic behavior) correlating with the time he received the MMR vaccine.

If you have a concern that he will have another allergic reaction to the immunizations, I recommend that your pediatrician consult an allergist, to ensure that such a reaction is avoided. The allergic reaction might have been enough of a 'catabolic' reaction to bring out metabolic symptoms in him. For the vast majority of children and adults, the benefits of the vaccines do outweigh their risks - but in case your child is one of a few individuals who is more sensitive to the body's changes that occur after an immunization - I agree with approaching this matter with caution. In such a case, holding off on a 'booster' vaccine until he is older or more developmentally stable, is a reasonable decision.

There are no other specific guidelines or precautions that I can provide - except that any post-vaccine fever should be treated, and that he should be kept well-hydrated afterwards.

Answered by: Sumit Parikh, MD

And:

The medical literature has absolutely no articles on immunizations/vaccinations in individuals with mitochondrial disease. In the absence of any studies, there is only clinical experience and opinion. Personally, I know a few cases of severe complications following routine immunizations in children with mitochondrial disease, generally in those who were later diagnosed as such. However, in almost all of these cases the child stopped eating because of feeling ill, and I believe that most of the complications were actually provoked by fasting. Fever may be more common following immunizations in mito kids than in children in general, possibly because abnormal autonomic nervous system responses (dysautonomia) are very common in mito disease. Of course, febrile children are fussy and may not want to eat much. Since immunizations protect against serious diseases that could really cause complications if a mito kid were to get them, and because of my own clinical experience in that over a hundred mito kids safely received immunizations when certain precautions were taken, with my own patients my practice is as follows:

Immunizations act like common viral infections in that they can cause a child to have fever, nausea, poor appetite, and/or malaise (generally feeling bad). At these times, pay extra attention that your child is getting adequate calories. Fruit juices are one option to get quick calories in a child who is eating poorly. Fever increases energy demand, and should be treated with the proper amount of acetaminophen (Tylenol, etc.) or ibuprofen (Advil, Motrin, etc.). Seek prompt medical attention for continued vomiting, inability to take almost any calories for over 24 hours, and especially for lethargy (excessive tiredness) or an otherwise altered behavior (including excessive fussiness, confusion, etc.). Occasionally, IV fluid with D10 (10% sugar) may need to be given.
Any mito kid with a severe immunization reaction in the past should probably avoid immunizations altogether.

Answered by: Richard G. Boles, MD

To read the questions for the answers, please go here.


I'm going to just let it all go now, after I say these next few things. And, hopefully this will be the last time I post on this. This has got me so angered because of what mito is versus what autism is. Mito kills many children each year. A friend of mine lost her daughter at the age of 2. That is not autism. Trust me, anti-vax parents, you do not want mito. And, should it come out your child does indeed have mito, you'll wish you had gotten those vaccines.

I do feel Kirby perhaps brought to the attention of many one important thing: that in some cases, autistic symptoms can be attributed to a genetic, metabolic, or mitochondrial disorder. So, if you have an autistic child, it is worthwhile to do some screening for that. With regard to mitochondrial disease, I would only recommend testing IF a child had autism accompanied with feeding difficulties, hypotonia, movement disorders, organ defects, lactic acidosis, elevated liver enzymes, multiple hospitalizations, etc. If my child had autism that began with a true regression, I would more than likely look into mito as well. More advice, seek out the top doctors in the field. We had to hop on an airplane for our daughter's testing. It was all very expensive also, even with insurance coverage. Also, keep in mind that testing for mito includes having your child be sedated while getting a skin & muscle biopsy, a spinal tap, catheter for urine sample, as well as blood drawn. There is also substantial pre-op workup as well. This is not something to be taken lightly.

Lastly, I might add, with hesitation, something about these parents who are now jumping at the bits about mitochondrial disease. Hope beyond hope that your child does NOT have it. If your child has never been hospitalized, has never had surgery, is able to walk, doesn't need a tube in order to receive nutrition, be grateful. The injury you feel your child received--autism--from a vaccine, and I don't mean to be rude, pales in comparison to what most families who battle mitochondrial disease have to contend with.

I am so glad my child's results for mito came back negative. The period of testing & waiting was a nightmare, I was so scared. I wouldn't wish mito on my worst enemy. I pray that a real treament for mito is found SOON. My child has autism, and she also has a long list of other diagnoses and medical issues. She was born with heart and kidney (requiring surgery) defects, shd has a feeding tube with which she gets most of her liquid intake through, she has had various GI problems, many neurological issues, as well as breathing problems, the list goes on. The first 1-2 years of her life was filled with doctors visits, tests, and procedures. We have boxes, BOXES for her medical records. She's been hospitalized for rotavirus, RSV, and surgeries. She ended up in the PICU following one surgery. She has had 2 PICC lines. She's had MRSA four times.

I have incredible discontent for people who do not vaccinate their children. I read a mom's comment one time about when her children had one of those diseases (she doesn't vaccinate her kids), and how it was no big deal. Okay, maybe for your kid--but not for mine. My child, along with thousands of other special-needs kids would most likely be hospitalized, and be at far greater risk than her child. Kids like mine typically catch more germs when they are in a hospital. During an illness, things can literally be touch & go. My daughter has already contracted chicken pox (thankfully, she had receive the vaccine, so it was fairly mild, although she did have seizures during the illness), I cringe knowing the number of kids she is in contact with who are not vaccinated grows each day.

Each time my daughter gets sick, even with the "common cold," our reality is waking up every 2-3 hours to give her medicine and push fluids through her feeding tube, as well as monitor her for seizure activity, all of this to keep her out of the hospital. Often, her colds require breathing treatments as well. For her protection, and again with an end-goal of keeping her out of hospitals, our doctor prefers we call to receive medical advice (& even prescriptions) or in the event we have to come in, they immediately put us in a room. Her specialists whose offices are inside of a children's hospital ensure her follow-up appointments are not during the winter (flu season) months. We've been lucky that with each year, her overall health improves. I'm so thankful for her doctors who have been proactive and helped her overcome such odds.

To see her, you may not even realize how hard she's had to fight. But I remember, I will never forget the truly heart-wrenching times. I've said it before, the "worst" day with autism is the brightest most wonderful day compared to 5 seconds in the PICU with your child.

I truly hope that all these parents who are now chatting on and on (and in a sick way, getting excited) about mito realize how lucky they are. If they've not been touched personally by a disease like mito, or if their child has never been in the intensive care unit, or if other than autism, their child is pretty healthy, they have no idea. For the majority of them, they have no clue what it's truly like to see their child suffer.

Thank you, Mike McCarron

I wasn't going to write about this. But, the more I have thought about it, I really wanted to share. Every once in a while, I second guess myself. This is in all areas of my life, my relationships, my children. This is not exclusive to autism, or the paths we've chosen regarding autism. At any rate, I found myself wondering if I was doing any good. I contemplated quitting blogging and just moving on.

I'm a free spirit at heart, and truly hate to see parents on different "sides" of the autism debate fighting. So much time, energy, and emotion is wasted, and our focus is lost. Isn't this about our wonderful, amazing children? Can't we find some common ground? I so often just want to scream "can't we all just get along??" I do not hate anyone, I may have distaste for others' views, yes. However, I do not hate them just for their opinions, despite how misled and inaccurate I may feel those are. I do not wish these other parents any harm or misery. I also don't necessarily feel that one is a bad parent or terrible person for venting about their life or about autism (when it is done in a respectful and non-degrading, mature way).

I don't instantly think someone is horrible if they are trying biomedical "treatments" for their child. It does make me sad, I have concern for both the child and their family. It's heartbreaking to me hearing many of these parents speak toward autism, and worst, their own child. I always look to see the other side, their perspective. I haven't walked a mile in their shoes, perhaps I have no clue. So, I am sympathetic (to a point), and often try to keep my mind and heart open. I believe I am not in the position to truly judge anyone. At the core of it all, I seem many similarities between myself and say, Jenny McCarthy. We are, after all, simply two moms with autistic children, doing what we feel is right for our kids.

With all that said, I also have my eyes wide open, and see very clearly what is going on around me. I see how autistic adults are mistreated, disrespected, discriminated, and misrepresented in society. I see the abuses that autistic children and teens have endured. Sadly, I know of far too many autistic people, of all ages, who have been murdered. This is reality. This is what is happening now, today. This is why I write. This is why I will continue to fight.

Dozens of purported autism charities and groups collect millions upon millions of dollars. Year after year, where does this money go? Have we seen a sharp increase in the last few years of services for autistic adults? Are families with young children being helped or supported any more than they were five years ago? Are schools that much better equipped to handle the needs of students along the autism spectrum? Is the public truly more "aware," prepared, or better accepting of autistics? Where I live, and from others I speak to all over the U.S., the answer is a sad and resounding NO.

Until I can say that yes, true change is happening and I am hopeful for my child's future and the future of all autistics, I will keep advocating. I am hopeful for my child's own future, it is her future in society that I am concerned about. I worry about her education, her vocational prospects, living arrangements, and overall quality of life as she reaches into adulthood. What kind of world will be there for her? It's certainly not the world that is out there right now. I'll be damned if I don't make real, positive change, so that she is able to continue flourishing and making the most of her strengths in her teen and adult years. My legacy for her will be that she is accepted, and truly appreciated, by the public. I will work tirelessly for this.

Speaking of tirelessly...sometimes this (fighting for change) feels like a heavy burden. I hit one of those points late last week. I wondered if I really was changing things for my child. Was there much point to all I was doing? I stumbled onto some very negative writings, and honestly felt hopeless about so much. How can I really convince people, so full of contempt and vile, that they're wasting all their energy and time on the wrong things? Fight for our children, not against them. Rally for their rights, battle for acceptance so that our children will have a real place in society. I was contemplating a lot. One of which was to just quit typing, and let it all go. Sometimes, the arguments that go on between us parents all are so very tiring to me.

I took the long way to get to my point, but here it finally comes. Each time I reach a moment like this, I am reminded in some way of why I write, and why my voice is important. I want to thank Katie McCarron's grandfather, Mike. He wrote an open letter to the Autism Hub, of which I am proudly and graciously a member of. His letter came at just the time I needed to hear those words. I, like all the other hub members, were moved beyond words by his message. He has inspired me, and really put any doubts I may have had to rest. I have printed out Mr. McCarron's letter, and it hangs by my desk. It will be there, everyday, along with my daughter's picture, reminding me not only why I do it, but why it is vital I continue.

Thank you, again, Mr. McCarron, for your inspiring and encouraging words.

My Little Fighter

When I first viewed the video I posted in the previous entry, it brought back so many memories of my daughter's infancy. I thought of how she never made eye-contact, something that actually troubled me when I would nurse her. She startled at every little thing, yet appeared deaf at other times. Dancing, making silly faces or noises, even clapping in front of her, and she would still have a blank stare. She held her body in odd postures. I had to remind myself not to take any of it personally. It sounds silly to say that, but no matter how level-minded one is, when your own baby doesn't respond to you, it can be heartbreaking. Most days, my daughter would prefer to sit in a swing, car seat, anywhere but in someone's arms. But, we continued to hold her and try out new ways that she felt more ease. We realized what she liked--swaddling. We swaddled her until 9-10 months old. I also discovered she preferred being held in a sling, instead of someone's arms. She also liked motion, I'd rock her, hold her while gently bouncing on an exercise ball, etc.

By around 8 months of age, I donated my "What To Expect The First Year" book as by then I could relate to very little of it. We watched our child, month after month, struggling to meet any of the usual milestones. So often, she seemed to be in her own world. All of those experiences, have made every gain that much more amazing. I remember how difficult it was for our daughter to roll over. She has what is now thought to be considered a typical "autism" roll. Every movement took so much out of her, so much effort. I remember her trying to crawl. For months on end, she would squirm a little while on her stomach and then just lay there. And then, one day, the squirming transformed into an army crawl meets fish flopping style movement. And with each day, she would move further and further. It took so much out of her, but day after day, she'd try again and again. She's been a fighter like this in every area of her life.

It honestly breaks my heart a little when I think about it. No child, no baby should have to work so hard and struggle so much for even the littlest of gains. I will never take any of my child's milestones for granted. When I think of how far she has come, and how from the moment she was brought into this world, she's had to fight, I know that forcing her into a certain mold (to be like everyone else), is simply not right. It would not be fair to put those expectations on her. That, over time, has come to me. I have accepted this completely. I no longer look to the charts as to what she should be doing or make comparisons. Sure, when I see NT children her age, the differences are evident, and my heart may pang for a second or so. That is natural, and I've learned to just feel that emotion and move on. That's simply the way it is.

Others will not be so fair or understanding toward my child. I do not know what she will be like at 15 or 25 or any age down the road. No one can say for sure what her abilities will be, what challenges or issues she will face, how independent she will be, etc. We will help her every step of the way, and feel strongly that if we advocate for her, she will be able to make a wonderful life for herself. But, I do realize there will be opposition. Other people will not be so accepting of her differences. We will work every day to hopefully change society's distorted view of autistics.

Bending A Little...Gaining A Lot

I've learned a lot in this life. The most important lessons I've learned come from my children. I've come to realize that being a parent is, by far, the hardest job in the world. I've learned that hearing your child cry in pain can literally break your heart. I know now that much of what you read in parenting books and magazines won't always mesh with your life or your child. It's not the end of the world if your child is not potty-trained by a certain age. The supposed "experts" do not have all the answers. The biggest thing I've learned, is that sometimes, you have to bend a little.

We've had to alter our preconceived notions, the ideas we had about much of life. We've realized that hearing the words "Mommy" or "I love you" are not the most important thing in life. Seeing your child sign those words, or point to a picture card to express those sentiments, is simply beautiful. I've literally had to remind myself early on that my child is not rejecting me or disconnected from me because she doesn't want to hold her mother's hand, or give a hug, or play pat-a-cake. As an infant, my daughter would just stare off toward the windows, or just off into an abyss. To be honest, there were times it did hurt me. I felt I must be doing something wrong. How could my baby not laugh at me doing a silly dance? Why won't she react to me playing peek-a-boo? What does it mean when your baby never stares longingly in her mother's eyes?

We had wonderful doctors, and so our education and understanding into developmental disabilities began at our daughter's 6 month well-baby visit. We knew very early that our daughter had delays. I knew instinctively that my child was different, before any professional told us. I would read notes from doctor's appointments, see test results, and go over her diagnoses. I understood them. But, when you are a mom, and especially when you've had those early bonding experiences with another child, the day to day things affect you. All those 'missed' moments can bring you down.

For some time, I had to constantly tell myself that this was not a personal insult. I was not a bad mom. My child was not a bad egg. I just had to try more, try better, try differently. My daughter liked fans, I bought a small toy fan. My daughter liked lights, I bought toys that lit up and spun. She then liked what I had. Little by little, I learned what steps to take to get involved with my child. I never expected her to just "snap out of it" and be like her sister. I knew I had to approach this entire experience, raising our youngest, in a whole new light.

Those early lessons and realizations have continued. They change, and as my daughter gets older, I know they will continue to do so. But it's still about meeting my daughter somewhere in the middle. Not trying to alter her or force her into something that would make her uncomfortable. No, it's about finding what works for her, and trying new things. I still feel at times, that my parenting "bag of tricks" that I had for my older daughter just doesn't work with her sister.

When you learn to throw out the ideas you may have previously had, your life will get better. When you start to bend a little, the gains just may be huge. My daughter usually does not enjoy being kissed. Sometimes, she may give you a real kiss. But, often, she'd prefer neither. So, we've come up with alternatives. Of course, high-fives and thumbs-up are big ways for us to "kiss" in our own way. Lately, she'll enjoy our lips brushing her cheeks. A new "kiss" is simply pressing (unpuckered) your lips against her head. This works. It's great. It's a kiss. It's a unique kiss, and it's wonderful.

We have never made our child look us in the eyes. When she talks, we try to have her toward us, simply so we can hear. We do this by asking her "can you turn to me?" just as I would her sister. We often crunch down to her level, so we can hear her. I will never forcefully pull her chin up or demand she look me in the eyes. I do not think she would ever speak, if we treated her in this manner. We don't force her to wear very fancy clothes, lace and frills drive her crazy. Most outfits are soft cotton, nice & comfy.

We don't scold her for stimming, rolling around, jumping, or screeching. We have found ways for her to ease her sensory system and ways to work out some extra energy. We encourage her to use a sit & spin, her spinning chair, slide, trampoline, bouncy ball, etc. We have sensory toys, beanbag chairs, a tent, all sorts of things around the house. To us, there is no other way. I can't imagine anything other than accepting my child, and giving her a loving, caring, & fun environment that suits her needs. I'm not being a super-mom, I'm not a saint, I'm not doing anything above and beyond the call of duty (in this case, being a parent). I'm being a mom, I'm loving my child. It's simple.

I wish, above all, that other parents will see that this is Autism everyday. And it is a beautiful...

Random Thoughts on Acceptance, Parenting, and Love

My husband and I have approached every chapter in our children's lives with "what do we need to do?" And, then we tackle the problem or situation head on. Behind that question, is always the idea that the end goal is for our children to be happy, to feel comfortable, to flourish--in their own, unique way. This holds just as true for my autistic daughter as it does for her sister.

Perhaps my husband and I are just built much different than most (and to be honest, that wouldn't surprise me!). It just seems we are of a minority group--parents who don't have preset expectations and goals for their children. I personally do not want to live vicariously through my child. I want to watch in amazement & joy as I see this being, who once resided inside of me, grow and blossom. I watch with astonishment as little by little my children come into their own (in each, again, their own unique way). I cannot wait to see all the world has in store for them. I will respect & support whatever life goals they have. I will enjoy seeing them get to know themselves, embracing their true self.

Yes, I said "them." I have the same mindset for both of my children. I don't feel like my autistic child will not have goals or dreams, I know she will. They might be different than what I'm accustomed to. It may take some time and creativity to figure them out correctly. But whether it's something she takes interest in next week, next year, or 10 years from now...I will support her in any way I can. Autism has not stolen anything, especially dreams and future plans, from my child.

I don't get what is so hard about realizing that your child is their own individual human being. You do not own them. They are not possessions. You teach them, guide them, hug them, support them. But, you must let go. They are not you. They are most certainly not the you you always wanted to be. They have nothing to prove to you.

It rattles me hearing so many parents of autistic children pity themselves and all that their child will never do or won't be. It's pathetic. If, at the end of the day, my daughter is content and feels safe, I've done my job. What more could I want for her?

My Life, My Child

Life with autism is not a bowl full of cherries (neither for the parent or the child). It is stressful. Days are long. Nights are often longer. There is screaming. There is crying. There are IEP's and school issues to contend with. There may be therapy and doctor appointments. Yes, life with autism can be difficult. But autistic children do have souls and they have not been kidnapped. They will not die from autism, and no one should ever announce repeatedly in public that they have considered ending their autistic child's life. Autistic individuals deserve the same respect and rights afforded to every other human being.

The most important thing I feel I've done on this leg of my journey (autism that is) was to reach out to adult autistics. Today, with online communities, autism blogs, and published books, reaching out to autistic adults is rather easy. These adults have given me valuable insight into my daughter. They tell me their own personal stories, what they have gone through, what helped them growing up. Mostly, they gave me a whole new view of autism. Their stories and advice are priceless, and have changed our family and our outlook so much. I would suggest to any other parent to connect with the adult autism community. You will feel empowered and hopeful, for sure.

As a parent, especially when your child is first diagnosed, you pick up nearly every book on the the subject and then (of course!) you Google autism. Without fail, Autism Speaks is one of the first you will come across. I remember visiting it early on and reading their material. I watched a movie they had produced, Autism Everyday. I saw lives out of control. I saw children out of control. I saw horrible tantrums, parents who were desperate. I saw so much of my life in that film. I cried as I watched it. I could relate to a lot of it. For most parents, the next step is trying to find a cause, and therefore a blame.

For me, our daughter has had health issues since birth. She never had a regression. So, for me, it's apparent our daughter's autism is genetic. I feel she was autistic in the womb. Now, whether all cases of autism are genetic, I do not know for sure. I do think it's possible some children have an immune response to vaccines (I don't think it's mercury) and I don't think it would hurt to look at how we vaccinate our children (perhaps less shots at once, maybe). I believe the children who make almost overnight progress by dietary changes, probably did not have the same type of autism that my daughter has. It is possible that these children experienced behavioral and psychological changes due to allergies and intolerances. I never needed to find something that I could point to and say "YOU did this to my child!" For me, I just don't think that would be helpful.

Trust me, I have felt sadness. I have felt bitterness. I have felt desperate. I have felt heartbroken. I have those moments. I cry. I allow myself pity parties from time to time. I will cry, I sit and talk to my husband, I speak to other parents, I journal, I blog, I listen to music. I let myself feel those emotions, I identify them, and I deal with them. And then, and most importantly, I move on. I have chosen to focus on the positive. I truly don't think those experiences and the emotions I feel are unique to me, my situation, or to autism.

Life with autism has joy. There is hope. There is laughter and smiles. There is music and dancing. I made a choice to accept my daughter--all of her. I can't even say it was a choice, it was natural, she is my child, my flesh and blood. No matter what, I would love her and always will. Autism, or any other label or diagnosis, would never, could never change that! Making peace with autism sets you free to enjoy your life and your child. I do not feel like I've been cheated, not at all. My daughter has changed me, I find such beauty in the details. The little things, in life with autism, they are so significant and endearing. My children are both unique gifts and truly the greatest of all blessings. I would not change my life for anything.

Newsflash! Autism Is NOT Cancer!

I hear from time to time, some parents compare autism to cancer. They are somehow able make many parallels between autism and cancer. This, honestly, embarrasses me. I have friends and family members who are fighting cancer, I know parents who have lost their children to cancer. Cancer kills. Cancer is an evil disease. We need to find a cure for cancer.

I can't imagine going up to one of my friends & complaining to them about my child's autism, and how it's so much like their son or daughter's fatal tumor. I'm sick to think of a conversation comparing the chemotherapy and medications their child had to take (to save their life), and of all the treatments and therapies I might have tried to "cure" my child. I wonder what my friends would think if I were to bitch about my sleepless nights, how my child just wouldn't quit stimming, and how hopeless life with autism was...when my friend is up all hours pacing the hospital room, or their child was so sick from cancer that his body could no longer handle even the smallest of movements, or how their family remained positive and never gave up until the moment their child died.

No, any such conversations would sicken me. I can't believe anyone truly buys that garbage. It blows me away that someone would ever make such a comparison. For me, I see absolutely no connection to cancer or any other life-threatening disease. There are some minor commonalities one could draw between autism (any other disorder or condition that can be stressful on parents or a family) and any disease that also causes stress. But, beyond that, the parents of an autistic child, who has typical autism (i.e. classic, really anywhere on the spectrum), cannot and could not relate in anyway to having a child with cancer or any other fatal (or potentially fatal) disease.

The way I see it, parents who make this argument don't know the difference between an inconvenience and a utterly life-altering, horrible, tragic circumstance. To them, autism has wrecked their lives. Their plans of little league and a walk down the aisle have been destroyed. They are irritated and aggravated. Their life has changed, and to them, this is a nuisance. Autism is an inconvenience for these parents. Cancer is a tragedy. Cancer causes physical pain and symptoms, cancer is heartbreaking. Children who have cancer must undergo surgeries, infusions, injections, pills, and more in hopes of saving their life. Families are devastated. Cancer treatments and hospitalizations create major financial debt for these families. They do not have a choice as to whether or not to try a treatment. The alternative is certain death.

No parent of an autistic child (who only has autism) has ever had to live through that. They've never gotten on their knees and begged God to save their child, and by save I mean keep their child here on Earth. They've never cried so much they were certain they had no more tears, because of how heartbreaking it was to see their child lying in a hospital bed, connected to dozens of wires and tubes. They've never felt sure they were about to vomit up their insides because of the unbearable stress, fear, and hell they felt when the doctor tells them the treatment was unsuccessful. They have no clue what that pain feels like. They have no concept of being a parent to a child who has cancer, or any other life-threatening disease.

I feel safe to say that any of my friends who visit a cemetery on their child's birthday would gladly switch places with me--on any given day. They would move heaven and earth to get their child back, and trust me, if part of the deal with God was that their child would stay alive but be autistic, they would not need even a second to shout YES absolutely!

This phantom connection that some parents try to make between their autistic child and a child battling cancer will never make sense to me. Cancer is not a nuisance, not an inconvenience, not a different way of being. Cancer is heartbreaking, it is torture.

Cancer kills.

Autism doesn't.

End of story.

Autism Acceptance: What It Means To Me

Autism acceptance, to me, does not mean that a child cannot have speech therapy or help with sensory integration. It doesn't mean that a parent shouldn't seek out support groups. I'm not saying you can never cry or have the occasional pity party. What it means is that first & foremost, I love my child. I see past any disability or difference, and see that she is my daughter. She has talents & gifts, she has likes and dislikes, and she is a joy. At times, it may be harder to discover those things, but they are there. She may require more patience, more time. Living with my daughter, and raising her, I've had to learn new parenting skills. I've had to think differently, react calmer, and be more creative. To me, all of those things have made me a better parent and a better person.

Autism acceptance to me, doesn't mean I deny that autism can be and is often disabling. It doesn't mean I look at autism with rose-colored glasses. I believe that autism is a neurological (with many psychological symptoms and/or disorders occurring as well) condition, one that most likely is genetic (and perhaps metabolic in some form as well). I also believe that a lot of what we (NT) see as autistic symptoms are sometimes simply a different way of thinking, reacting, or being. Not every aspect of autism is a symptom or needs to be "worked on." Also, so many believe that autistic children won't develop or change, that with time, they will not gain skills. Many feel like they have limited time to 'fix' their child, that they are in a race to save the child they once had. This is simply not true. Every autistic person I know of, specifically those who have not been giving supplements or other supposed cures, they gain skills & develop with time.

Autism acceptance means that I choose to focus on the good. The difficult things, are not the focus or the center; they are not all that my daughter is. The challenging parts are instead looked at as speed bumps or hiccups. And, trust me, some days are a LOT bumpier than others!!! I am a realist. We have moments that make my head spin. I feel helpless at times. I pray for answers and strength. I don't pretend to think that our life is a piece of cake, nor that it will be easy as the years go on. I listen to the doctors & professionals, I read books, I'm well aware of the possible challenges our daughter may face. I know that she may always live with us, or require assistance in her day to day activities. I'm not sure what her physical or neurological health will look like in 5, 10, or 20 years. I do know that wasting time & energy on worry helps no one. Especially not my daughter.

Autism acceptance means I have actively chosen to focus on the good. And, there is plenty there. Sometimes, you just need a new persepective to see it. I have had plenty of that persperctive. And, that perspective came from things in our life other than autism. In fact, they were way larger & scarier than autism could ever be. I hope to tell others that it's okay to accept autism & fully embrace their child. You are not hurting or harming them. If you give love to your child & allow their self-esteem to blossom, and show them acceptance, you have done nothing wrong. Your child has not lost their soul, your life is not hopeless, autism in nothing like cancer.

It's okay to want your child to be able to communicate--it may just not be the form you are accustomed to. It may be through sign language, picture cards, or a computer. It's okay if your child needs therapy to help with motor skills or sensory processing or speech, just be sure it's therapy that is respectful to your child, advocate for your child, ensure that he is being treated kindly by the professionals in his life. It's okay to want your child to be able to deal with sensory input easier. But, realize, your child may always rock, bob, or sway, they may always flap a bit or grunt at times. That's okay too. There is plenty of room in society for people to bend and alter how they perceive and judge others. We can all lend a hand in that, and really make a difference.

The minute you stop seeing all the negative, stop focusing all your time, energy, and money on fixing or curing your child, and instead embracing them, finding the joy, and accepting your life, the better for all. I think we all owe it to your children--regardless of skill, ability, or diagnosis.

What Autism Acceptance is to me....


Some parents I meet are downright offended when they hear "Autism Acceptance," and anything related to it. They have many false notions about this movement, and those of us involved in it. For one, they presume we all dance around all day like a bunch of nutjobs, thanking the heavens that our children are autistic, never having a moment of sadness or stress. They assume that because we have accepted autism & find joy in our life, then we don't encourage our children to communicate or groom themselves or develop in any way. That is just the beginning of their insane views on those of us who are part of the Autism Acceptance 'movement.' They have no clue that we tend to treat our autistic children very much like our NT children. They simply can't graspe the concept of looking past the "big bad Autism" & seeing just our child. They don't understand why we're willing to "accommodate" our child by offering alternative forms of communicating, quiet time, avoiding certain places, etc.

I have never said that life with autism is a complete round-the-clock blast. Life raising any child has it's fair share of ups & downs. People assume because I am able to find joy in my child & in our life, & thus, in autism, that my child is "less affected." This is a common argument they will throw at me & others. Where they get the term & how the interpret "less affected" is something I've yet to figure out. If you truly are autistic--whether it is classic autism or aspergers--indeed every aspect of your life is affected by autism. And, I don't know how one would ever get a clinical diagnosis if they were "less affected."

That aside, myself & others like me are often "accused" of having a child who is "less affected." That, we are in a separate realm of the spectrum than their (these other parents) miserable existence. That I just couldn't possibly relate to their life, their stresses. My child must be "high functioning" or "aspergers," they say (and, again, those two are apparently cake-walks). Because, there's simply no way, that if my child had the "real bad, shitty autism" (their words, not mine) that their children have, I could ever feel any joy in my life.

I've stayed away from specifics with regard to my child, as much as I can. I will say that her diagnosis is autism, and she's not considered 'high functioning' or as having aspergers. Again, I have come to know people and children with these various diagnoses of autism, and I've yet to come to the conclusion that any one diagnosis is easier or defines someone's future or their abilities. So, my daughter has autism, just like most of their children, and this tends to upset them.

It amazes me, each time I hear these parents speak, how quick they are to debate other parents. Time and time again, the parent who chooses to be bitter and see no joy in their child or their life, they will attack and belittle any parent who believes in the idea of acceptance or who has a child they feel is "higher functioning." They especially get infuriated with us who are finding happiness in our lives, autism and all. I have seen and felt this firsthand. My child is now verbal, but has the very typical communication issues of people with autism. But to them, the fact that my child can speak (& they want no part of alternative communication for their children often), this makes them bitter. I can't understand their pain, because I hear my child speak. They all promote that lie of someone who cannot speak, obviously has nothing to say. It makes them--these parents--feel better.

My child has sensory issues, she stims, she lines up objects, she hits, kicks, & bites, she has meltdowns, tics, a tremor, seizures, major feeding difficulties, developmental delays, self-regulation issues, etc. Need I go on? I could devote my life to only those details. I could look at my precious child & only see those things, only see what was wrong or different. I could, as these parents do, see only what was missing, what was broken, or what was lost.

Equally, I could look at my other child. I could say she talks way too much, has problems focusing, is overly-sensitive, is clumsy, and has sleep disturbances. She was slow to potty train, she is a very picky eater, and she still has trouble tying her shoelaces. Would people think it odd, if this was all I spoke about with regard to my child? If all I did was complain or stress over her inadequacies, her challenges, wouldn't those around me take issue with that? So, why the double standard? Why is it we have free license to bitch and moan over our autistic children? Why is it okay for us to not see any good and only focus on the negatives?

I choose to see the amazing things. I embrace the little things. How her laugh is the greatest music in the world. The kick I get out of her organizing the products on the grocery shelves (no, she doesn't work there!). The way she bounces up and down when she is happy. Yes, when she is happy. I do get stressed out, I have sleepless nights, I cry. But, to think about and only focus on the challenges, I would miss the big picture. The big picture is that my daughter is an individual, a person, and I never want to disrespect her. She is a gift.

My Rant: Message Boards & Parental Pity Parties

I cringe each time I read an entry in a blog or message board, in which a parent bemoans their autistic child. They pity themselves, about the raw deal they got & how their son will never play Little League. They make statements like "well by the time he's 15, I'm sure he'll be in a residential center" and "God, she drives me absolutely nuts, I can't stand it & honestly don't know how much of this I can handle." It goes on & on.

If I thought that all of these parents were simply venting & making an anonymous statement so that they could better handle their daily life, that would be one thing. Unfortunately, in every case, these such ideas and statements are not just rants or exhalations. Sadly, autistic children are murdered each year. Society accepts these homicides, because the over-riding thought in the public eye is that raising an autistic child is so damn unbearable. That naturally, a parent would sink so low, and be capable of killing their own child--who wouldn't, with autism being so horrible? So, I can't simply read such things & brush them off. They hurt, and they spread this idea that autistic children & people deserve less. That we can bash them & disregard their civil rights because they are autistic.

Communication: More Than Just Spoken Words!

"Not being able to speak is not the same thing as having nothing to say."

I really wish everyone would read this quote & really take the time to understand and accept it. I'm saddened by the amount of parents I come in contact with who are desperately hopeless because their child is nonverbal. They presume therefore all sorts of terrible things. One is that their child is not capable of much, including ideas or opinions. The other is that their child will ultimately be institutionalized. Another is that their child is unaware of what's going on around them, what is said about them, and also what is written about them.

So many people honestly think that if someone cannot speak, then there is nothing go on inside. They also assume that if someone walks around grunting or stimming or twitching, that they can't possibly be thinking of much. So many of these parents are tragically ignorant, and most aren't willing to open their eyes to this. They would prefer, I think, there not be a possibility that their child or the autistic adult is capable of higher thinking.

I hear time & time again, parents saying "if only I could hear him say 'mama'" or "it breaks my heart that she won't say 'I love you.'" I feel for them, I do. Before my daughter had words, I remember falling into that belief, that if she couldn't speak or say "mommy" that we just wouldn't be able to connect. Our neurologist is amazing & early on, he recommended sign language. We used sign language & picture cards. I yearned to hear my daughter say "ma." I thought that would be the most amazing thing. I was wrong. The day my daughter signed "daddy" was one of the most wonderful things ever. A few weeks later, she would sign "mommy" and then further down the road, it was "I love you." Seeing those signs, that was so beautiful. Those personal experiences, really made a permanent impression in my mind on this whole nonverbal issue. Being nonverbal, does not mean a child or adult doesn't have thoughts, feelings, or desires.

Parents are so close-minded to what communication really means. Often, they seem to take personal offense if their child cannot verbally communicate. They feel a 'normal' parent-child bond or connection can never be achieved because of this. Verbal speech is not the end all be all for communication--far from it. In this day in age, with technology, the options are seemingly endless. PECS cards, ASL, laptops, writing boards, etc. While our daughter is now verbal, she still uses PECS & signs, and I imagine when she gets a bit older, she'll use typing quite often too, as a form of communication. I'm excited for that. Speaking is very difficult for her, she tires easily, and is often very hard to understand. So, I'm excited for when she will have yet another option for communication, and I can't wait to 'hear' all she has to 'say.'

NeuroTypical Entitlement

Since when did we, as parents, become owed a certain spec of a child? Are we obligated to get a 'normal' kid, maybe even a blue eyed, blonde haired darling who will undoubtedly either be hero quarterback or bubbly cheerleader? That seems to me what so many of these parents feel. Those who are so steadfastly 'fighting' to cure their child. I can't even fathom the amount of money, time, & energy these parents spend on trying to normalize their children. Their assumption is that they lost their child. In their mind, children 'with autism' have had their souls stolen from them.

The basic undertone I hear time & time again from these parents is that this kid is not what they signed up for. They dreamed of a child who they could easily take out to restaurants, have fun in playgroups, have a big group of friends, and certainly never have to 'explain' certain behaviors while in public. They whine about how their kid can't ride a bike or how they always wanted a son who would play Little League. As if any of that is the end of the world. It seems as if they thought they were guaranteed some sort of "NeuroTypical Entitlement" & are pissed as hell the deal was not followed through on. How dare they not have a 'normal' child? What will their family, friends, neighbors say? How ever will they explain this 'situation' to others? I see so much resentment toward their children.

All of that hatred toward life & how unfair it can be spirals into blame & anger. They find causes to point their fingers at--vaccines, drinking water, french fries, the list goes on & on... They band together to form armies to alert others of the terror that lies from these so-called causes. Websites, support groups, organizations form to warn & scare other parents. Don't vaccine your kid or they'll end up like mine! All of this, I suppose, let's them sleep better at night. If there's outside blame to lay, something to point to & get angry at, well, there's some peace to that. It's comforting to not have to look at yourself or to simply accept something that you cannot understand at first glance.

I imagine that had I spent the last few years angry & bitter, devoting much of my time to assigning blame & focusing on a 'cure,' my child would not be thriving as she is. Instead of looking at her & seeing someone who was lost, and feeling as if I'd been jipped, I got on with it. I saw through the things my child wasn't doing, and saw what she WAS doing. Yes...even the kids who are sitting alone, staring out a window rocking, they are doing something. A lot of these parents don't see it. Look past the walls we as parents often feel locked out of.

Let go of whatever guilt, shame, fear, embarrassment, and anger you have. When we become pregnant or adopt a child, we are in no way entitled to a 'normal' just-like-everyone-else-kid. There is a slippery slope of wanting a 'normal' kid & not a disabled one. Naturally, no one wishes or hopes for a disabled child, I doubt anyone dreamt of having an autistic child either. It's not exactly what goes through your mind when you're picking out a nursery theme. But, what defines someone as being disabled? And, what would that spectrum of disability look like? Who decides? Who decided Down's Syndrome was too tough on parents? As more & more people look to "cure autism," it is a fine line they walk. Hitler wanted a nation where everyone was 'perfect.' I can't help but see the connection when it comes to the autism debate. We as parents have to make sure that our children are accepted & not ostracized in the years to come. None of us are 'owed' a certain child, love your child--however it is that they are.

Beautiful (But Not Fantastic) Son

I was reading mom26children's What Are They Thinking? blog (please check it out!!) & she mentioned the link for a new documentary, Beautiful Son. From what she wrote, I knew it was most likely not what I hoped it might be--you know, something positive about Autism. Being very curious though, I visited the site. It is, by the way, a wonderful name for a website & documentary about one's child. However, after visiting the site a bit longer, I realized that was one of the few wonderful things about all this.

I looked at their links, which included (surprise, surprise) DAN!, Cure Autism Now, Moms Against Mercury, & many more. Ah-huh...I pretty much got the idea of where this whole project was going. But, still being curious, I watched the trailer.

It was not entirely what I expected, in that they did not show any propagandistic tantrums, violence, chaos, etc. They showed an adorable boy & seemingly well-meaning family. Then came the interview with the father. He spoke of how bright his son seemed, how great his personality was, how he was" just going to grow up into a fantastic boy...and everything changed."

The trailer continues, showing the parents attending their first DAN! conference. The first person they met there was a mom who 'recovered' her daughter. My head was dizzy just watching this father walking down an aisle of vendors--infrared saunas, HBOT, supplements, therapy, books, and more. Cue the depressing music...

Later, the father is reading a report on thimerosal. We see these parents arguing over what meds were given & when, as well as them giving their son an injection. I was rather disturbed by that, I think part of it was that I'm not sure what they were injecting & of course, for the life of me, can't understand why. Well, I know why, but I cannot relate to injecting my kid with something other than say insulin if medically necessary (& proven!). But, that's just me.

Then comes the end of the trailer. It shows this boy, their beautiful son, swinging and he seems to be enjoying himself. They do some camera magic, some slow motion with trailing--rather eery & oh so tragic. You then hear the father say "they're like lost souls..."

The basic theme of the website is 'recovery.' I am betting the entire documentary is riddled with that word as well. I can only imagine how many quack 'cures' they offer & advise during the movie.

What's so sad, is again, these parents are so busy investing time and money into these cures & treatments, and are so devastated by the label "Autistic," that they are missing out on what is good. There is a scene where they are swimming in the ocean, it is beautiful. From the size of the boy, it appears it was filmed post-Autism diagnosis. That moment, that memory, seems entirely wonderful to me.

Yet, what I heard from the father was that his son was not & would never be (unless 'recovered') fantastic. Without curing Autism, his son would remain without a soul. My heart breaks for this child. I feel he is being used for propaganda. My belief is that you cannot 'cure' Autism, nor do I feel it is something that needs to be cured. What happens to this boy, this beautiful son, when a few years go by & he is not recovered? Or what happens if he appears to others to be 'recovered,' mostly because he is acting how they expect & what they deem as socially acceptable, what will become of him in his twenties & beyond?

Autistic children do have souls, they are fantastic, they are bright, and they are beautiful.