Twenty-four years ago my oldest son Geordi , (Geo), was born with big blue eyes, dark curly hair and chubby little cheeks that made you want to smother them in kisses. He was also born “fussy” – not wanting to sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time and not feeding well. As time went on, he was also late to sit, crawl, walk and talk. By the age of two, he was diagnosed as, “developmentally delayed” – cause unknown.
As a first time Mom, I took my 18-month-old son into the doctor’s office and said; “why isn’t he starting to say words like the other kids in his play group?” The doctor replied; “Oh I wouldn’t worried about it he will talk when he is good & ready.”
My son Geordi, (Geo), was born with an intellectual disability as well as a speech disorder.
Like many of you, I have spent hours upon hours in waiting rooms at doctor’s offices and therapy clinics. In a frantic effort to “fix” my son, I dragged him to every therapy I could find (and AFFORD!).
I spoke to a customer on the phone yesterday for about 20 minutes or so. It began as usual with questions about FATWHEELS & bikes and parts and prices. Nothing special until I asked – “what is your daughter’s name?” This is when the interaction turned personal. This is when Mom told me that her “baby” has autism.