special needs

Recently, I was recounting the story of getting my daughter's autism diagnosis to a newly made friend, and how I had that moment of validation, of "see, I'm not crazy. I knew something wasn't right." What was most interesting to me, though, was that even after all this time, it still hurts to the core to tell the story of everything we went through. I thought I was past that and had dealt with it, but it still brings back emotions so raw, I feel as if I'm sent back to experience the moment again.

"Something Was Different About Her"

When E was an infant, I couldn't tell any major differences between her and other babies. She was my first child and I didn't have a lot of experience. I thought it was normal to have difficulty with nursing, and normal that babies slept through the night by 10 weeks. I did notice that she screamed as though in pain when in her car seat, but I thought maybe something wasn't installed right, or maybe she got motion sickness. Still, I avoided going on trips with her very much because of the stress on both of us. Then, at her three month check-up, the pediatrician asked if we were doing tummy time. I said no, and she said we should start.

That was when I first started to wonder if something was different about her. We began tummy time that very day, and she began to scream. This wasn't a cry, it was a scream, like someone just stabbed me and it hurt scream. I thought, "Okay, the doctor said she might cry and that I should try for a few seconds and work up to a few minutes." I tried, but the longest I could leave her there was a heart wrenching 20 seconds. After three weeks of trying and no progress, I put an end to tummy time. We spent our time walking in the stroller on trails instead because she was really engrossed with nature and perusing books about animals.

When "Don't Worry" Makes It Worse

At about six months, we joined in a small playgroup, and I noticed small differences. I noticed that other babies smiled a lot, drooled a lot and put things in their mouths. E did none of that. Sometimes she would smile, but she never put anything in her mouth or drooled. I brought it up at her next check and was told not to worry about it. This began a trend for the next two or three years.

At her nine-month check, the doctor was impressed with E's verbal skills. She was pronouncing very clearly, and could say three or four word sentences. I mentioned that she seemed very obsessed with the same TV show (Barney) and that she would sit and 'read' the same book for three or four hours sometimes. I was told not to worry about it, that I was in fact lucky to have a child with such focus. Yes, but she isn't interested in anything or anyone else. I was again told not to worry about it.

At her 12-month check, I mentioned that she wasn't crawling and not inclined to at all. She had begun to cruise a bit, so I was told that some babies skip crawling and not to worry about it. This was the only time I felt reassured since sure enough two weeks later she started to walk.

At her 15-month check, I was really worried because she wasn't interested in food, both generally, and in trying anything beyond super pureed fruit, yogurt or those soft Gerber star shaped 'crackers.' I was told to keep trying and not worry. This was the first time I felt like physically shaking someone and saying "Don't tell me that! Something isn't right." It was also the first time I began to feel like maybe I was a neurotic and 'crazy' mother.  At her 18-month and two-year checks, I said nothing when asked if I had concerns. I told the doctor everything was fine, but it wasn't.

A Mom's Need to Find Answers

Then three things happened simultaneously that gave me a little push toward wanting to know what was making her different enough that she was behind in physical and social development, but not enough to be glaringly concerning to people besides me. First, I went back to work and had less time to spend trying to get her engaged in social activity, in trying to persuade her to eat food (she often took two hours to eat a meal). Because I was back at work, she started at preschool in a two-year-old class, and her teacher noticed how great she was at reading and talking, but also noticed the small differences from other kids. The most pronounced thing was that E played parallel to but not with other kids. Third, I found out I was pregnant with my second daughter.

Suddenly, I needed to have something in place for E before the baby was born. Her teacher and I suspected it might be some form of autism. I took her teacher's observations to her three-year check-up and the pediatrician finally referred us to Early Intervention. That was a frustration onto itself, because they wouldn't categorize her as autistic, but said she has a speech development delay and had her see a speech therapist. After three months, the speech therapist said, "She doesn't have a speech problem," and we were released from the program. At that point, I took a hiatus because of having the baby and helping E through the transition of having a sibling (she withdrew into her own world for about a month).

A Moment of Truth

When H was about a year old, we moved to Texas, and that is when the you-know-what hit the fan. Big time explosion. New preschool, new town, new routine, new job etc. Everything in E's world was changed all at once and she did another major withdrawal. Her diet became Cheerios and yogurt only. Looking back on it, it's eerily similar to that scene in Temple Grandin where she tells her aunt that she only eats yogurt and jello. Then she started to run away from preschool and I would have to leave work and pick her up. Things got progressively worse and they were going to kick her out of preschool if it didn't stop. The director said she was just a terribly behaved child. I said I thought she had autism. After looking at me like she thought I was nuts, she said she'd hold off on expulsion until after I saw the local psychologist about E. I took her in, and he said he didn't think she had autism, but perhaps was high strung. I looked at him and I looked at my daughter who was sitting quietly reading her animal board book and who would sort of answer his questions but did not directly have eye contact with him in the four sessions we had with him. I thanked him for his time, told him I thought he was wrong, and left.

I called my husband, who was still in Oregon trying to sell our old house, and told him to take it off the market. I said that we were moving back, and I was quitting my job until we could get our child the help she needed. She was far more important to us at that point than our dream of trying to move somewhere warmer, and I felt like we were seriously losing the battle. So we moved back, and I did my research this time on psychiatrists who had experience in testing for autism, and we chose one. It took another month, but about the time she was four and a half, we finally got a diagnosis of high-functioning autism. The psychiatrist told me that she could understand why everyone might look at her and think she was just a quirky or eccentric kid, but she clearly had the lack of eye contact, and the 'obsessive focus' on one or two subjects that was symptomatic of classic autism.   

She also looked at me and said, "See, you're not crazy. You knew."

Image Source: Taken by J. White

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, POPSUGAR.

With so many of our moms raising special needs kids, we try to share happy and inspiring stories whenever we can. So we're thrilled by this video of an autistic 11-year-old named Jodi DiPiazza performing Katy Perry's song Firework in front of a concert hall full of people — with Katy Perry herself!

The Long Island tween was diagnosed as autistic at the age of two. At the time, her parents feared she would never talk. But they steeped her in an amazing brew of specialized teaching, patience, and love that has led them over time to discard "that idea that there's some limit on her," as her dad says.

To see why he says this, watch Jodi's stirring performance below. We promise it will brighten your day!

Image Source: Comedy Central via YouTube

Thanks to standardized tests, it’s somewhat easy to tell whether a grade-schooler has above average aptitude. But curious parents of preschoolers may have a more difficult time determining whether their children are "gifted," having fewer benchmarks against which to measure them. "Although I suspect my daughter is gifted, I am still waiting [until] she can be tested to call it officially," says mom Maggie J.

Nisreen V. also says her 3-year-old son shows signs of being a gifted child — he has an adult vocabulary and asks lots of questions — but she can’t really compare him to othe children his age because he's not yet in school. Once she does start sending him to school, she wonders, will the school help her figure it out?

Some Circle of Moms members with children who've been deemed gifted by their schools say parents of preschoolers indeed might need to wait until their children start grade school before they are labeled "gifted" (which often occurs in first or third grade). Yet, they nevertheless suggest moms keep an eye out for the following three signs that a young child is gifted — and offer advice on how every child's talents can be nurtured.

1. Your Child Learns Language Quickly

"My son, not quite three, recognizes all the letters, has most of the sounds, knows his colors, knows his numbers, counts objects, is starting to read words like ‘rattlesnake,’ has a huge vocabulary … and has incredible logic and reasoning skills," says Circle of Moms member Laura P. "I'm wondering if he is a gifted child, and if so, do I encourage this or let him be a little kid?"

Many Circle of Moms members of gifted children say Laura’s suspicion that her son is gifted is not off track. One of the first indications of their children’s above average abilities was the speed at which they learned letters and vocabulary. Mom Deborah C. says her daughter was the poster child for highly gifted kids and had advanced language skills. "Her first word was 'elephant,' right before she turned three months old. She spoke in sentences by six months, and by 18 months, her language skills were that of a four or five-year-old," she says. Additionally, her daughter knew all her colors, shapes, ABC's, numbers, opposites, and her left from her right before she was two.

Alicia T. says her son stood out as gifted because at three and a half years old: "He pretty much taught himself how to read phonetically. He also learned the alphabets of at least four other languages and how to count in several of them as well."

2. Your Child Has a Love for Learning

Gifted children sometimes experience frustration when they’re not learning, Alicia T. adds. For example, she says while the rest of her family may happily "zone out" watching a TV show, her gifted son prefers to watch YouTube videos on how to write letters in Hebrew or how to count in Japanese. Because of her experience, she suspects "a gifted child isn't happy unless he or she is learning something."

A gifted child’s inquisitive nature to learn new things often requires constant conversation and attention. Denise M. says it’s hard keeping up with her four-year-old son’s interests. 

Mom Michelle D. calls her son a sponge for knowledge. She says he loves to learn anything, and as a result, believes gifted children learn in a different style and thus need more enriched activities.

3. Your Child Exhibits Other Talents

Even if your preschooler doesn’t exhibit academic gifts, she could still be gifted, say Circle of Moms members Jami L. and Tegan D. Jami shares that her son didn’t learn to read until he entered kindergarten, but then he excelled by leaps and bounds. In nine months he was able to read at a first grade level.

Tegan D. says her three-year-old daughter can’t read yet, but she is emotionally gifted, sensing when her baby brother is nervous or frustrated, and exhibiting empathy toward animals. "Gifts come in all different shapes and sizes," Tegan says, "but the key difference is it's the ability to think beyond and differently to other children of that age."

Whether your preschooler is gifted or not, Hayley M. says you don’t need to raise your children any differently. "If he is gifted, then you don't have to encourage it; it's who he is!" she says.

Moms Megan W. and Debora C. agree, saying moms should encourage their children’s love for learning, but not push preschoolers to excel academically. "It is easy to think they need to get out into school ASAP,” Megan says, "but three- and four-year-olds need, comfort, stability at home, and opportunities to improve their play and socialization skills during the day."

Megan sends her son to preschool part-time to socialize. "I'm aware that he won't learn anything new there," she says, "but being around a group of kids his age and getting used to the ‘class’ structure is a good idea before formal school," she adds.

Praise your child for how hard he works, rather than for being smart, clever or good, Cathy M. advises. "That will help your preschooler to be more hard working, rather than give up as soon as things start getting tough," whether your child is gifted or not, she says.

And above all, as a Circle of Moms member who goes by "Flower Girl" says, a parent should respect the qualities that her child has. "Just because some children do not have a higher IQ doesn't really mean much. We should love our children for who they are."

Image Source: Courosa via Flickr/Creative Commons

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, POPSUGAR.

Even with a background in Early Intervention (EI), I wonder and worry about my toddler’s skills. He talks a lot, but is he understandable? He’s fearful of other children, but does that mean he’s going to need extra support with social skills? Are his gross motor skills up to par?

While deep down I know my son doesn’t need EI services, if I didn’t know what they were for, I would be among the many parents who wonder whether EI services are right for their child. To help answer that and other common questions about Early Intervention that pop up on Circle of Moms, here's a primer on what they're for, who's eligible, how they're structured, and why they're so important.

1. What are Early Intervention Services?

Early Intervention Services are a system of services for children from birth to age three who have disabilities or developmental delays. The services are provided for and funded under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, though every state has the freedom to choose how the services are administered.

Under a provision of the law known as Child Find, states are required to locate and identify as many young children with disabilities as they can. As Circle of Moms member Lindsey T. explains, “They will do an evaluation and let you know how much of a delay [your child] has, and if they think she needs their help.”

2. What makes a child eligible?

In some cases, a child is eligible for services because she was born with a disability that qualifies her for services; in others she was born prematurely enough that she is “shortlisted” for evaluation. For instance, Circle of Moms member Kristi C.’s son "qualified for services based on the fact that he was born under three pounds.”

If your child doesn’t have an identified delay, but isn’t meeting typical milestones, it’s time to talk to your pediatrician about setting up an evaluation.

Another member, Barbara M., reminds parents to think about more than just physical milestones. She recommends early intervention to moms with "any concerns in regard to their child's development — gross [motor], fine motor, weight concerns, social interactions, speech [or] behavioral concerns.”

3. What's an Individualized Family Service Plan?

Early Intervention services are unique in that they work with the whole family to create a program that helps improve a child’s skills in five basic areas:

• Intellectual development
• Physical development
• Communication
• Social and emotional development
• Adaptive development

Not all children need assistance in all areas, which is why an Individualized Family Service Plan will be developed to outline your child and family’s specific needs.

Early Intervention Services provide families with the skills to work with their own children. In fact, mom Michelle B. says, “the most important effect of EI is actually what you learn.”

Working with a therapist once or a few times a week only goes so far. As another mom, Sofia L., points out, learning activities to work on at home with your child is the real benefit of EI Services.

4. Why is Early Intervention so important?

Intervening early is important for a number of reasons. Chris M.'s child has developmental delays and is working with a Special Education teacher. She points out that “[EI] is a wonderful way to address issues early, and possibly take care of them before school expectations pile up."

Not only does intervening during the toddler and preschool years provide professional assistance before school starts, but also during a time when the potential to learn skills and adaptations is high.

As many moms attest, it also helps families find the skills and resources to adapt to a child’s disability. Having that assistance early on can reduce the stress on both parents and siblings of children with disabilities.

Image Source: quinn.anya via Flickr

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, POPSUGAR.

From the mini-trampoline in the living room to the gym mats and exercise balls in the attic, our house has always literally been filled with sensory play. As an Early Intervention specialist and mom to a child with Asperger’s syndrome, I’ve learned that helping kids regulate their bodies helps them regulate their emotions, too.

Sensory play is important for all kids. It helps them to find news ways to explore, discover and otherwise make sense of the world around them. From homemade playdough recipes to fidgets, here are seven great sensory play ideas to try.

1. Homemade Playdough

I have a love-hate relationship with store-bought playdough. It’s a great sensory tool for strengthening fine motor skills and reducing frustration, but it smells bad and my two-year-old, like mom Dana S.’s, “think[s] all types of Play-Doh [are] cool to eat.”

Many Circle of Moms members have bypassed these issues by making edible playdough. As mom Andrea L. explains, you can play with the ingredients to “get the best consistency” for your child and it’s safe for kids whose sensory satisfaction comes from putting things in their mouths.

2. The “Kid Sandwich”

Kids who are "sensory seekers,” like Kim H.’s son, sometimes wind up “really banging or crashing into you or things” to get the stimulation their bodies crave. Circle of Moms member Ashley K. suggests the “kid sandwich” as a fun, safe, and amusing way to meet that need for more sensory input to calm their bodies. 

She says to use two couch cushions to sandwich your child, then “gently push on the top cushion [to] give that weighted feeling” your child needs. Other moms recommend weighted blankets, but point out that they are expensive.

3. At-Home Ball Pit

Mom Armanda M. created a home version of a ball pit by using a kiddie pool and ball pit balls (which she says can be bought at most toy stores). Your child can bury himself, throw the balls, and — as Armanda suggests for an additional sensory experience — dig for a "small toy in the bottom of the pit” that you've hidden.

4. Fidgets 

For kids like my son, who constantly have something in their hands to fiddle with, "fidgets" are a great solution. We’ve made them by filling small balloons with rice, flour, beans, and sand. Circle of Moms member Leslie T. makes similar fidgets, called “weighted lap snakes” using tube socks instead of balloons. Other mom-shared fidget ideas include Silly Putty, stress balls, and even origami.

5. Tabletop Sandboxes

Playing in sand, rice, beans, or water can all be fun and soothing sensory activities. Tabletop boxes are a smart solution for space and storage issues. Armanda M. suggests pouring your ingredient of choice into a “large pan,” while mom Sabrina H. uses coffee cans. Whatever you use, give your child spoons, plastic cups, and little toys to add to the container. Scooping, pouring, and burying is all part of the fun.

6. Painting

There are a number of different ways to paint that are sensory-friendly. Among them are finger painting and water painting. Finger painting is an oldie, but goodie. If you can’t abide the mess or your child can’t stand the feel of the paint, mom Anna K. suggests giving kids water and a paint brush to paint your porch or the side of the house. They’ll be delighted to see the wood darken as the “paint” works.

7. Mini Trampoline

Ten years ago, I would have thought you were crazy if you'd told me the most important piece of furniture in my living room would be a mini-trampoline. But, like moms Michelle M. and Elizabeth B., I’ve discovered it helps my son to calm his body and mind as well as to have fun. I only wish I’d figured that out two couches ago!

Image Source: Mike Baird via Flickr/Creative Commons

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, POPSUGAR.

There's nothing better than seeing your kids look out for one another, and in this inspiring video from ESPN, two brothers set an example that has us all dabbing our eyes in the office.

8-year-old Conner and his 6-year-old brother Cayden are intensely loyal to one another: Cayden has cerebral palsy, but that doesn't stop the two from competing in triathlons together.

On June 5th the boys competed in the first of several triathlons they've finished together, with Conner pulling Cayden in a raft for the 4 lap swim, attaching a wheeled trailer to his bike for the 3 mile ride, and pushing his brother in a stroller for the 1/2 mile run. When asked what he thinks about when he's competing with Cayden, Conner said, "Finishing. Not first, second or third, just being proud that we finished." 

Watch the video below (and get out your handkerchiefs) to see these amazing kids in action.

Image Source: The Bert Show

Parents of a 12-year-old autistic boy in Lancaster County, Nebraska, are furious after discovering that school officials left their son alone in a room for 20 minutes without taking appropriate precuations. During that time, the boy took off his clothes and urinated on them. He has been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.

The parents, whose names haven't been disclosed, filed a law suit against Pyrtle Elementary School asking to be compensated for their son's medical expenses, which total $1,470 so far.

Read the whole story (Journal Star).

Is your child's school adequately equipped to deal with special needs kids?

Image Source: Journal Star

When you have a child with special needs, you become the kind of mother you never thought you could be. Yes, you cry "more tears than [you’ve] ever thought humanly possible,” but you also rise to the occasion, throwing yourself into the job of helping others see "the amazing kid behind the special needs," as Circle of Moms member Katherine C. describes it. But it's not necessarily that straightforward for your special needs child's siblings. As many moms who have both a special needs child and one or more typically developing kids discover, the siblings of kids with special needs have some special needs all their own.

Dealing with Jealousy

Yvonne W. has a 15-year-old daughter with mild intellectual disabilities and behavioral challenges. In Circle of Moms' community for Mothers of Special Needs Children, she confides that it’s her younger daughter she’s worried about. The 12-year-old “really resents her [older sister] and gets annoyed with her about everything," Yvonne says of the typically-developing sibling. She wants to know why she can’t have "a normal" sister. Similarly, Amanda C.’s youngest daughter has PDD, NOS, and her older daughter says she's jealous and feels left out.

According to Donald Meyer, director of the non-profit Sibling Support Project, these aren’t uncommon feelings for siblings of kids with special needs to have. His agency runs "Sibshops" — workshops for siblings of children with special needs — at Seattle Children’s Hospital. He says brothers and sisters need to know their parents care about them as individuals, and suggests the following ways to make that happen:

1. Make time to share in your other child’s interests.

Over a decade ago, when her typically developing daughter was a preschooler, Circle of Moms member Jane S. started taking one day a month to shop with her. She says this tradition has cemented their bond.

While it’s not always easy to set aside this kind of one-on-one time with each child, other moms who make use of this strategy point out that it doesn’t have to be a big event to have a big impact. You can watch a TV show together, listen to music or, like Zoe H. suggests, have a “cuddle and a story.”

2. Acknowledge the strong (and sometimes unpleasant) emotions.

As parents, it’s sometimes hard to hear our kids express the feelings of resentment and embarrassment that they have about their siblings, but listening can really help. Christine G. says she thinks her teenage son’s relationship with his sister with special needs is as strong as it is because she and her husband are “empathetic to his situation” and have allowed him to openly discuss his feelings with them.

3. Allow kids to be kids.

Asking your child to help out with his special needs brother or sister once in awhile is okay, but, as Circle of Moms member Jane M. points out, expecting him to become another caregiver isn’t a good idea. It’s not a child's responsibility to take care of his sibling, and he needs to feel secure that he, too is a child with grownups looking out for him.

4. Be honest with your child about his sibling’s condition.

Circle of Moms member Anne Marie D. provides great advice on how to talk to a young child about his sibling's special condition. She says to, ”1. Speak frankly. This is a fact of life and should not be sugar-coated. 2. After stating it on the ... child's level, explain the "specialness" in layman's terms, not child terms. This will challenge your smaller one to learn more vocabulary and expand the horizons of understanding."

5. Find a sibling support group.

A number of moms say that sibling support groups and workshops, such as those developed by the non-profit Sibling Support Project, are helpful for offsetting some of the feelings of resentment and jealousy.

If you’re worried you can’t handle the needs of all your kids, keep in mind one more thing that Katherine says of moms of kids with special needs. They “will do anything in [their] power to make the world a safer, saner, kinder, happier, more accepting place for [their] kids" — and that means for all of them, not just the ones with special needs.

Image Source: Photo: © Amanda Morin

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, POPSUGAR.

When I first found out that my daughter Ellie was born with Down syndrome, I was shattered.  I was certain that the plans my dear friend Jess and I made for our two little girls would never come to fruition. I was certain, that our own friendship would be greatly affected. I could not have been more wrong.

Jessica and I were pregnant together.

Actually, we met in the 3rd grade in a Catholic school in St.Louis.  We even followed each other to highschool and although we went our separate ways come college, we remainded friends and united again in The Lone Star State.  I actually married the best man in their wedding.  We both ended up in Texas (her by way of Tucson and me by way of Philadelphia) thanks to the wonderful men in our lives.

In the scorching summer heat of 2009, Jess and I were both extremely pregnant.  Jess with her second child and me with my first.  When we found out that we were both having girls, we started making elaborate plans for our daughters.  Of course they would be best friends.  Of course they would grow up together and discuss boys on the telephone.  Obviously they would be in each other weddings.  We imagined our two girls like peas in a pod.  Friends, just like me and Jess.

When Ellie was born, Jess' little Grace was only 6 weeks old. With my daughter's postnatal diagnosis of Down syndrome, I thought I watched those dreams shrivel up and disintegrate.  To be perfectly honest, I felt a surge of jealousy.  Why my daughter?  Why did Jess get two "perfect" kids?

This was all a part of the grief process-those stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and then acceptance. No, it is not that I didn't love my beautiful, strong, PERFECT Ellie, 47 chromosomes and all.  It was fear. Fear of the unknown and mourning for that “dream” child I imagined I was going to have.  The child that never existed.  Ellie is everything and she was all these things the minute she was conceived inside of me. Yet, the grief process was in full swing.  

It was Jessica I called soon after I received Ellie's diagnosis.  I was sobbing into the phone and saying that I needed her.  She did what any good friend would do--left her post-natal OB appointment with her 6 week-old baby in tow, brought good tissues infused with aloe, and cupcakes.  I admitted my anger and jealousy towards her and I felt horrible.  I am sorry I ever felt that let alone said that. Witness Jess sitting in that chair in my hospital room, I realized that she too understood that our dreams for our girls might indeed have a different reality. Not bad, just different.  

Oh yes, our girls will grow up together.  They will play together and be a part of each other lives.  Perhaps, even one day, they will be in each others’ weddings.  Who knows?

I know that the journey Ellie and I are traveling on is full of triumphs and obstacles, BUT I also know that everyone’s journey, including Jess’ ,has those windy twists and turns.

It brings such joy to watch Grant, Grace, and Ellie all play together, be together, and of course, steal each other toys.  Jess has taught me that a good friendship can withstand anything while Ellie has taught me about love and patience, as well as motivation, determination, and hard work.

Thank you Jess, for everything.  

Image Source: via Anna Theurer

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, POPSUGAR.

By the time my firstborn son George was two years old, I knew that something was wrong. George had a functional vocabulary of less than ten words and he was hardly doing any of the things listed in all of those developmental checklists. When I spoke to my family doctor about it, he gave me the standard line: "All children develop at different rates, and boys reach milestones later than girls."

After listening to this for a year, I had had enough. I parked myself in the doctor's office and told him I wasn't leaving until I had a referral for a developmental assessment. The doctor must have realized that I would have been quite prepared to sit in that chair gathering dust, because he gave me the referral with only a minimum of fuss.

Six weeks later, I sat in another doctor's office receiving the results of the assessment.

Autism.

I had suspected this for a while, but hearing it actually said was a dreadful experience. Especially when the doctor followed it up with his prognosis for the future.

By all indications, George was going to have severe cognitive impairment for his whole life. His capacity for learning was very limited. He would probably never learn how to read or write, his behavioral issues might escalate to the point of endangering his little brother, and he was not likely to ever have a career or live independently.

The doctor pointed out that because George was not even pointing - a skill that most kids learned in infancy - he was not likely to develop more sophisticated ways of communicating, like speech and meaningful gestures.

For a couple of hours, I was numb with shock. And then, after a good solid crying bout, I found some resolve. I was not going to let the doctor tell me what kind of life my child was going to have. I was not going to let anybody tell me not to expect anything of my child. I was absolutely not going to give up on my child without even trying.

So what if George couldn't point? I would teach him.

The following day, I went to the bookstore and bought a book featuring the only thing George had ever shown any interest in: Bob the Builder. When I got home from work, I curled up with George on my bed, opened the book, and started reading. As George looked at the pictures, I gently said to him, "Point to Bob the Builder."

George didn't move, so I took his hand in mine, and guided his index finger to the picture of Bob the Builder.

"Show me Dizzy," I said. Same result from George, same reinforcement from me.

We went through all of the characters like this, with me naming them, George failing to point, and me manipulating his hand into the right shape and making him point.

The next night, we did it all over again.

And the night after that.

And the night after that, and after that, and after that.

There were nights when I didn't want to bother, when it felt as if I was wasting my time and accomplishing nothing. But I didn't give up. I kept telling myself that the only way George was guaranteed to not succeed would be if I stopped trying.

One night, eleven months after that first night with George and Bob the Builder, I sat down on my bed with child and book as usual. I was feeling drained and overwhelmed. I stifled a sigh and opened the book. Wearily, I said to George, "Show me Bob the Builder."

Automatically I started lifting my hand to help George point, but to my amazement, he started moving his hand himself. I hardly dared to breathe as George raised his hand. For a moment he just held it aloft and looked at it as if wondering what to do. Then, with agonizing slowness, he curled his little fingers into a fist, extended his index finger, and tentatively touched the picture of Bob the Builder.

To say that I cried a little would be like saying Noah and his ark got caught in a bit of rain. I sobbed as I hugged my child, who was probably wondering what all the fuss was about.

I jumped off the bed and ran to my husband, who looked a bit frightened by the sight of my mascara-streaked face.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked.

"George puh-puh-pointed!" I said, and ran back to the hero of the day.

That triumph turned out to be the first of many. Since that day, George has defied the doctor's predictions almost every day. Yes, he has autism, and yes, there are certain challenges he will live with all his life. But he is jam-packed with potential, and I am excited to see where his life will take him.

Image Source: Courtesy of Kirsten Doyle

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