Narrative Essay On Autism

Caleb was two when I noticed changes in him. He feared nothing and no one. Always roughhousing with his older brother, Jackson. Jump on his sister every time she walked into the room. If I didn’t keep a close eye on him, somehow he would end up climbing a tree or over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. I would tell myself, “he’s just a boy.” However, he wouldn’t talk to people, avoided eye contact, and absolutely hated it when people touched him without permission. In daycare the other kids didn't want to play with him but he didn’t seem to mind. He liked to keep to himself and was content with playing with his toys in the corner. My family and friends would tell me something isn’t right with Caleb, I just saw him as my shy little boy. When
I typed in “delayed speech” and it lead me to multiple pages on autism. I searched “socially unaccepted” and I was met with the same results. I tried “hand flapping” and again it showed up as a symptom of autism. I shut my laptop out of frustration. “Not my Caleb”, I thought. The next day I decided to take Caleb to a specialist like they suggested. Not because I agree but because I wanted to prove everyone wrong. When we arrived, in the waiting room sat boys and girls rocking back and forth, wearing bibs because of their drool, babbling, etc. Caleb were not like them. The doctor was going to tell me I’m overreacting and he’s just a typical boy. After multiple examinations, the doctor sat my husband and I down in his office while Caleb lined up wooden blocks, the doctor had. I wish I could’ve mentally prepared myself for that next moment because when the words, “Your son has autism” were said my heart dropped. First the guilt came. I felt as if this was my fault. Was it something I did during the pregnancy? I must have. I couldn’t even look at Caleb knowing I’m the reason he is the way he is. Then the grief came. I was grieving the child that he could have been if he didn’t have this disability. Our lives will never be the