Part 2: The Prognosis : By Kristin Selby Gonzalez Director of Autism Education for Enzymedica Mother of Jaxson, diagnosed with autism
I sat in the administrator’s office at the school district, nervously clasping my hands. Okay, so I knew my son had autism, but at least now I would learn how we would begin to “fix” this. I loved my son more than I felt my heart could contain. When I looked at Jaxson, his sweet round face immersed in a world all his own. I knew with crystal clarity that I would do anything-absolutely-anything to help him. The grayed hair administrator sat across from me, ready to tell me, so I thought, what I needed to do to bring my little boy back to me.
“The first thing you need to know is that he’ll probably never talk,” she said.
My brain was reeling, desperately trying to compute this sledge hammer blow.
“I…I ‘m sorry. What? What do you mean he’ll never talk? He’s only two-and-a-half years old? How can you know that?”
“Mrs. Gonzalez, please. The only way this is going to work is for you to be realistic. I have been doing this for a long time. Autism is something you can’t fix. This is a lifelong condition. Now we have services-free-services that we can set you up with for your son. What we are trying to do is to make your son’s autism more tolerable to live with. The best we can hope for is that he eats with a spoon and fork and is potty trained by the time he eight years old. Usually at that point the children get put into group homes.”
Her voice was like listening to nails on a chalk board.
“Mrs. Gonzalez, you are naïve to believe anything more will be possible for your son. You need to grieve for the child you thought you had. I hate to put it so bluntly, but, once a duck, always a duck.”
While she continued to bury my son, her assistant repeatedly interrupted asking what she wanted for lunch. I was happy to know that she could still maintain an appetite during my son’s funeral. I marveled at the fact that this woman who felt that she needed to devote several distracting minutes to consider what she would eat for lunch, could so casually, with such confidence, decide the outcome of my son’s life.
I left in a daze, my eyes wet, and my spirits low.
I sunk in a black depression, unable to get out of bed. It was a couple of weeks later when I finally asked myself the obvious, but crucial, question: “If I give up on my son, who will he have?”
I made a decision then, one I would never take back.
I did not know what the future held for Jaxson. I wasn’t sure how I would find all of the answers for him. But, by God, I would never give up on him.
For more information, visit the Autism Grass Roots Tour website at www.agrt.org.
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Tags: autism, Enzymedica, hope
