The Day I Finally Came to Terms with My Son’s Autism

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I had a revelation today. This might sound trivial, but on most days, I feel like the only thing I really learn is that mental fatigue can’t actually take me down. But today, my mind finally accepted a reality: My son has Asperger’s Syndrome. We received that diagnosis nearly two years ago, but as you can see, I’ve been a slow learner.

When my son was first diagnosed, I brushed it aside. I’ve worked in behavior therapy for kids on the Autism Spectrum for a decade, so when I noticed early signs in Jake, I convinced myself it was just my heightened awareness.

Then, his preschool teachers invited me in for what I thought was a friendly chat, only to present me with a “Does your child have Autism?” checklist. They claimed that Jake displayed most of the symptoms, and I was furious. How could they presume to educate me about Autism? If my son had it, I would know, right?

Looking back, I see that they were inexperienced in delivering such news and opted for a generic list instead of specific examples of Jake’s behavior. It made it easy for me to dismiss their concerns. After all, I knew Jake didn’t “flap,” so I could conveniently disregard all their other claims, labeling them as just preschool teachers who couldn’t diagnose Autism if it hit them in the face.

I cried and reached out to a trusted friend and colleague, Mia, who agreed to observe Jake in his classroom. Over coffee, she reassured me that the teachers were missing the mark and that Jake would flourish with one-on-one support. We talked about getting him evaluated, and in Pennsylvania, it seemed even a brick could get an Autism diagnosis, so Jake would definitely qualify for services.

In January 2013, Jake was evaluated by a doctor I had worked with before. I thought he would simply follow my lead. After I described Jake’s behavior, his response was, “So what do you want?” I realized this was less about Jake needing help and more about me wanting to secure an edge for him. I asked for an Asperger’s diagnosis and TSS services, and that’s exactly what I got.

Jake’s occupational therapist was a gem. He instantly connected with her, learning how to climb, balance, write, and cut. Suddenly, he could play on the playground and even write his name! She worked wonders with his food aversions too, which felt miraculous. His TSS was fun and engaging, helping Jake break out of his shell and play with other kids, which I absolutely loved, even if the teachers didn’t. The mobile therapist was incredibly prepared and effective, making me feel a bit inadequate in my own job. Despite my denial, these people became a true blessing in our lives, and I can’t express my gratitude enough.

And guess what? It paid off! There were fewer tantrums, more social interactions, greater interest in other children, and even an expanding palate. Things weren’t perfect, but they were definitely better. So well, in fact, that Jake was discharged from OT, feeding therapy, and TSS within a year. During his second evaluation, the doctor mentioned that if progress continued, Jake could potentially lose the diagnosis soon.

When it came time for Kindergarten, I wrestled with whether to disclose his diagnosis to the school. The doctor said he might not even have it by January, so after much deliberation, I decided to keep it under wraps. I didn’t want him labeled unnecessarily, especially since I was convinced he’d manage just fine.

But it took just two weeks for the teacher to reach out. Her email was kind, yet her observations echoed the same “Autism for Dummies” sentiments as the preschool teachers. In that moment, reality hit hard. This wasn’t just me being clever or gaming the system. Jake is a boy with Asperger’s who genuinely needs support to navigate challenges that come naturally to other kids.

I quickly responded, realizing I’d misjudged Jake’s ability to thrive in a mainstream setting without help. I had convinced myself that he could navigate Kindergarten all on his own. After all, this kid is a freakin’ genius! Now, we’re set to meet with the school psychologist to discuss the possibility of Special Education services to assist him in staying focused, following directions, and behaving appropriately. I can already anticipate having to apologize for withholding crucial information because I was in denial or fearful of the label’s impact. What a mess.

Ultimately, the person I owe an apology to the most is Jake. By denying the truth over the past two years, I made something that should be embraced feel shameful. But let me tell you, he is the most incredible human being I’ve ever known. He’s my heart outside of my body, and when I look into his eyes, I recognize him as the best parts of myself, mixed with so many other wonderful qualities. This diagnosis doesn’t define him, yet it’s a significant aspect of who he is.

He read by age two, tackled books by three, has an impressive memory, won a space trivia contest at four, and is particular about food, clothes, and routines. He has daily meltdowns over the smallest things and is not athletic but shows immense empathy. Reflecting on all this, it’s clear I was foolish not to see sooner. We often do strange things while trying to shield our kids (and ourselves).

So, today I learned something that should have been obvious all along. It took three teachers, a psychologist, several therapists, and a flood of tears for me to understand that my son isn’t perfect, but he is perfectly himself.

The Takeaway

This journey is daunting, real, and not going away. Denial won’t help. The love of our family and the certainty that this little boy is extraordinary and destined for greatness—despite my occasional missteps—will guide us forward. From now on, I’ll embrace the Aspie label without letting it define him, because he is wonderfully unique, and I’m grateful to be his mom.

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Summary: A mom reflects on her journey of accepting her son’s Asperger’s diagnosis, realizing the importance of acknowledging the challenges and seeking support. Despite initial denial, she learns that her son is wonderfully unique and deserving of help to thrive.