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What it means to have siblings on the spectrum

August 27, 2012

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I took Chubs to the pedi today for his 6 month visit. He weighed 18.3lbs and was 27 inches long.  In the 75% for both.  Rett has never been past the 25% for height and hardly on the charts. I think the highest he got was 17% so pretty different for me. Evie has always been 50% for height and around 20-30% for weight.   He is definitely our Chubster.

 

Doc looked him over and only concern I had was his lack of babbling. Both my other kids said their first words during the 6th month. Of course we’ve only been 6 months old for a week now so maybe its  too soon to worry. I’m not sure I have any worry left at this point honestly. I practice our ba-ba-ba, da-da-da, pa-pa-pa and ma-ma-ma’s daily.. without much difference.  Doc thought he was all well and fine and about to send us off.

 

And then I told him about Evie’s diagnosis. And I saw his look.  Because as soon as he said it, he glanced at Thad. And I knew he was thinking of what chances I had to not get a similar report from this baby.  This cute little smiley, giggly, roly poly boy of just 6 months old.  Flip a coin, autism is heads.  What is your guess? Because I sit staring down a 50% chance of diagnosis.  The numbers are stunning just in themselves but add in our current family dynamic and I would be surprised if he wasn’t autistic.

 

And what is better? To be the only child to not understand why the other two get so much attention and money lavished on them from therapy after therapy and chance after chance to be more ‘normal’ ?  Or to be diagnosed and understand them exactly. I’m not sure what I wish. 

 

Autism can be a wonderful thing. I see it in my children’s amazing memories.  Evie’s abilities to learn and pick up things just astounds me.  Rett can recite segments of movies that sometimes I can’t even figure out what movie that was from let alone remember five minutes of it.  They are both so happy and enthusiastic about everything.  But there is the uncertainty that Thad will be like that.  Will he be verbal? Will he be able to maintain a job and have a family?  Will he be able to accomplish everything he hopes to accomplish?  The diagnosis doesn’t scare me, its what that means for his future that scares me.

 

So for now, we wait.  I’ve found you do that a lot when you get thrown into this world. Waiting for speech to be over, for play group to be over, for OT to start. Waiting for lessons to soak in. Waiting for ABA to return him to you. Waiting to see if all you’ve done has made an impact.  I hate waiting.

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