Early Intervention & Alex

     Alex's early intervention story is one of my favorite stories to tell.  As a parent, it is your job to guide, teach, love, and care for  your child. The hard part is finding the balance between pushing them to far and loving them death. I have been guilty of both. I can't stress the importance of early intervention enough. It is where I found my balance.... It wasn't easy, but it was worth it.
     After Alex's diagnosis, his therapist and I decided that Early Intervention Preschool would be best for Alex. At the very least, we hoped it would help with his social skills. In theory,  preschool seemed like a great plan. He would go to the early class ( 8am), I was hopeful that would help with his disturbed sleeping patterns. He would eat breakfast there, play with his friends, receive therapy, have a snack, and come home.  It would be easy, right?!....
    Alex and I both cried everyday for the first week. I worried about everything. I hated leaving him because Alex didn't use any words to communicate his needs.   What if he needed something?  I worried about his eating... What if he didn't like the breakfast the school was serving? Would he be hungry? Alex was three and he still wore diapers.... All the kids at this preschool were delayed, but none of them seemed as delayed as Alex.  What if they noticed and made fun of him?  I could write a book  on the things I worried about.  I constantly told myself if we made it threw the first week, it would be easier.
      After Alex became familiar with his routine, he seemed to settle in. The teacher seemed accomidating to him. She would let him sit on an excercize ball during story time, because Alex needed to be moving ALL the time. On days when he was extra tired,  she would let him take a nap.  Even though it was against the rules, she would let me bring his favorite snacks as long as I brought enough for everyone.  I can remember thinking that everything was going to be ok. We were going to servive.
    After Alex was settled into the routine of school we set goals for him. Alex like most autistic kids would talk, but he never said anything meaningful. He would jabber about his favorite tv showers or quote his favorite books. He would never ask for something to drink or even for his favorite toys. When he wanted something, he would cry and I would have to figure out what it was. So our first goal was to find a way for Alex to communicate his needs/wants. We started using PECS. It is a form of non verbal communication that uses pictures and items. If Alex wanted crackers, he would bring me a picture of crackers and I would immediately give him crackers. Since Alex could read, he carried a laminated strip around with him that said, "I want ______ please". Hypothetically he would meet the goal by placing the picture (of crackers or whatever he wanted) the blank. Eventually, the pictures would be replaced with words.... And finally he would just say what he wanted without the prompt at all.  It seemed like a good idea to me. It would be tiresome carting around a huge book of pictures, but I was sure the end result was worth it.  After two weeks of  starting on the goal, Alex could careless. He showed no interest in the pictures. He wouldn't even look at the pictures much less hand them to me. I was so frustrated, and I felt defeated. One day after school, a parent stopped me. She told me that Alex's teacher had refused to give Alex snack because he wouldn't use the picture strip. I was so MAD! How dare her deny him food. He was already a picky eater, and he was probably starving by snack time. I went straight home and scheduled a meeting for the next morning. I didnt sleep at all that night and by the time I got to meet with her the next morning I was 50 different kinds of  pissed off. Needless to say our meeting did not go well. She told me she had not given him snack and she would not give him a snack unless he worked for it. She also told me that she wouldn't let him go to the reading center (his favorite) unless he used his picture stip to ask, and she refused to let him paint unless he wore the smock. Alex hated the smock, so he wasn't getting to paint.  I let her have it.... Looking back I must have seemed like a preschooler myself, standing there telling her how unfair she was being to my sweet boy. He couldn't help it, and she was being mean to him.  When I stopped fussing at her to take a breath, she politely told me that I was the one with an autistic, unpotty trained, nonverbal, three year old....  She wanted to help Alex but I was getting in the way of his progress. I was babying him to much and he had far to much potential to be coddled to death.  I stood up, picked Alex up, and walked out. I cried all the way home. When I got home I called and complained to everyone that would listen including the preschool director.  I was so  mad, and astounded that she would have the nerve to say that to me.... I called my mom, and after I told her the whole story and how I planned to never take him back she said, "Jodi, you don't want to look back on this and wish you would have done things differently. What if she can help him?".  Her words haunted me all night, but I had no intentions of taking him to school. Then next morning, when I woke up Alex was standing there with his backpack on. He ate breakfast with his backpack on. He watched cartoons with his backpack on. He stood by the door and screamed at me with his backpack on....... Maybe he did like school.  It was only three hours, so he probably wouldn't starve to death. Being around other kids was good for him, and I didn't want anyone to say that I wasn't doing all I could to help him.... There was only a month left of school anyway, how bad could it be? So Alex won, and we went to school.
     The next few weeks went by... His teacher would put information about potty training  or new pictures they were using in his back pack, but we weren't really talking.  I would half heartedly use the PECS system at home,  but Alex didn't seem interested.  He had been in school two months and he still refused to use the pictures.  I felt like school had helped him become more social but that was about it. He would greet his friends with an "hi", but that was the only meaningful word he used. The day before school got out for the summer, I went to pick Alex up and he ran to me with his arms wide open and he said, "hi mom". He had never said "mom" before. I sat on the ground and cried. From that second on... I believed in preschool. Even though school was out, I started using the picture strip at home, and he started using it. I dug out all that paperwork on ABA potty training, and he did it. By the time school started back in August, Alex was potty trained, and would ask for his needs without using the picture stip. He even used a handful of other words appropriately.  He was still reading like a mad man, knew all his numbers, letters, and he could count to 10 in Spanish.
     Early intervention was hard or both me and Alex, but it gave him the foundation he needed to learn. It didn't just make Alex smarter, it changed our home life too. Since Alex could communicate his needs, he no longer cried ALL the time. I felt like a better mom because I knew what he wanted.  Alex is in the fifth grade now, and I could never imagine going back to the way things were.... Early intervention preschool was such a blessing to us. I urge everyone  with a special needs child to get involved early, listen, and work hard. It truly makes all the difference.
     ..... In case you are wondering about the teacher I disliked so much.... When school started again in August, she wasn't there. Her family had moved over the summer. She missed all the great changes Alex had made. I have searched for her on all the social media sites I am on, but I can't find her. If I could find her, I would tell her how sorry I was for being so ugly, and most importantly I would say thank you for kicking me in my tail and helping me change Alex's life :)


   This is Alex 's preschool picture :)
   

Our road to Alex's diagnosis

     Most of you already know this, but April is Austism awareness month. It is also the birth month of my sweet son Alex. This year I vowed to post about autism in order to encourage others to learn, but life has gotten in the way and I haven't posted a single thing.  There are so many things about Autism people should know, but most importantly, people should know Alex's story......
     My pregnancy with Alex was simple. I ate regular, healthy meals.  I was never sick. I went to every doctors appointment. Alex had all the normal prenatal testing and monitoring done, and there was never a cause for concern.  Alex came into this world on April 1, 2001. He weighed 7lbs 15 oz and was perfectly healthy.
     As Alex began to grow, he simulated the milestones of his older brother. He sat up, crawled, and even walked right on time. He would babble to himself ,  wave bye-bye, and play with toys. Alex loved to play peek-a-boo, eat green beans, play with toy horses, and read books. We had no reason to believe that Alex was any different from our oldest child. Alex attended regular well baby visits with his pediatrician and his development was never an issue.
     Looking back, I can't precisely remember when the change happened. If it was all at once, or gradually. Alex stopped sleeping at night, and he had a series of ear infections that kept us at the doctors office. During this time, he stopped responding to his name, and quit following simple instructions (like go get your shoes).  Of course I was  concerned, so we went to the doctor and she agreed that we might need to have his hearing tested. He failed the hearing test, but the ENT felt like a set of tubes would correct the problem. I can remember feeling relieved at the thought of our life getting back to normal but "normal" never came for us.
     The tubes corrected Alex's hearing, but now he was doing all these other  strage things.... He was lining up similar objects in the floor (mainly tv remotes), hand flapping,  and spinning himself in circles. He never slept, and if anyone messed with his system of organization it would cause a meltdown.  He started missing his milestones at the doctor. First, it was because he didn't use enough words. Then his social skills were delayed because Alex preferred to be alone. Even his motor skills became delayed because Alex refused climb any stairs. He would just sit and cry.  Alex's obsessions began to run our life. I was barely sleeping at night. Alex had suddenly became a picky eater. My boy who had loved green beans wouldn't eat them now.  I would spend hours trying to fix him something that he would eat.  He would only watch certain tv shows, read certain books, and play with certain toys. When I say certain toys, (I mean specific toys like trains) and they had to be in Alex's preferred order. If one of his trains was missing it would cause a full meltdown, sometimes lasting hours.  Anytime we left the house he would cry inconsolably. He hated going to the commentary, the bx, or even out to eat.
     After several weeks of no sleep, I felt defeated. I remember thinking something isn't right, but today someone is going to help me, help him. I loaded up all three kids and went to the pediatrician. They were only seeing "sick babies" that day, but I refused to leave. I am pretty sure I cried, and with in an hour I was standing in front of  a doctor.  A different doctor, who signed us up for therapy. We seen a physical therapist and a speech therapist twice a week for 45 minutes. We set goals for Alex some of them were like: "greet Nancy verbally or non-verbally when she enters the room".  The goals seemed simple enough, the people were nice, but Alex could care less.  Some weeks he cooperated and some weeks he didn't. After a year of therapy, We (his therapist and I) were frustrated with the pace of Alex's progress, so we decided to push for a real diagnosis.
     As a side note, if you have ever been threw this process, you know it isn't quick or easy. When I looked at Alex, I seen a bright, sweet, handsome boy but  it seemed like everyone was always talking about what Alex couldn't do.... What milestones he hadn't met..... Or  how far behind he was.  I am his mother for goodness sake. I had three  children. I didn't need anyone to tell me he was behind. I need them to find the problem so we could fix it. Finally after three more months of paperwork, questions, and test, I was told to come back for an appointment.  I won't say that this day was the worst day of my life, but I can say it is in the top three.  In my mind, whatever was wrong with Alex had to be fixable, so to sit across from a doctor and hear that my  son was autistic was heart breaking.    I didn't even know what Autism was and I certainly didn't know of any other kids that had it.  I cried for the next week. It was almost like we mourned the life we had planned for Alex. Once I stopped feeling sorry for us (Alex and me),  I buried myself in research, books, blogs, websites, etc....  The more I learned, the more it all made sense.  After I educated myself I felt like I was prepared to help Alex's therapist build a plan for him..........