Forever Labeled

Last June, a few short days after his 2nd birthday, C, my baby boy was diagnosed with autism. Even now, 8 months after receiving his diagnosis, I still choke up when I say it. It's not that C changed the day we received the news, actually he remained the exact same kid he always was and still is. It was the way I viewed him that changed. As much I tried to not label my son, for the longest time every time I would look at him the doctor's words echoed in my mind. I could hear her apologize and attempt to reassured me that she was here to help. I thought, ‘if you are here for me, why do I feel so alone?’ She asked me if I had any questions, but the questions I had have no answers.

When the door closed as the doctor left the room, the silence was overwhelming as if it mirrored the silence I would hear after asking C a question and receive no answer. I took a deep breath and walked out, remaining composed until I feel apart in the car on the way to my Mom's to pick up the boys. I was 38 weeks pregnant and already emotional but I somehow held it together as I repeated the word the doctor had labeled C with. ‘AUTISTIC’.

Life seemed to switch to slow motion and fast forward all at the same time, since that day last June. Speech therapy, behaviour therapy, nursery school, various consultants, phone calls, appointments, doctor's appointments, blood tests...each day blurred together. Waiting list after waiting list. A special diet. Vitamin B 12 shots. A newborn baby.

Most days I feel like I'm in a sail boat, in the middle of a storm at sea, all alone with no where to go. Some days are lonelier than others, and most days I also feel spent, exhausted, scared - surrounded by darkness in unknown waters. I watch other kids who are younger than C, speaking, saying so many new words each day. My heart hurts for C, broken that life will never be easy as he faces so many challenges. C can't tell me how he feels, so I'm left to guess as I sort through my own feelings, wondering what the future has in store for us.

I look at my baby boy, occasionally he looks back at me and our eyes will lock. C says a new word, makes progress, reaches a new milestone. His face lights up with pure joy, a joy most never experience over such seemingly small feats. I look at my boy and see his label, this word 'AUTISTIC'. This word begins to fade and is replaced with a new word. I know that no matter what happens today, tomorrow or in the distant future, the label C will forever wear is ‘LOVE.’