The beginning

Having a diagnosis of autism in my child at the age of 2 is probably the worst thing I've ever gone through in my life. Although I had suspected it, well I pretty much knew he had autism, it never prepared me for that moment when we were told. 

It was like  "yes its clear now that these behaviours aren't going away and all the evidence from assessments shows, he fulfils so many of the criteria from blah blah blah thingumy yada yada b*llocks classification". I have no idea what that blah blah b*llocks stuff meant, I wasn't really focussing on that but it was something to do with mental disorders. Basically we were told that William was showing enough of the behaviours and developmental delays to classify him as having autism. 

We were sent on your way with a little gift pack containing names and numbers of support agencies, a brochure of autism disorders and a "see you in 6 months, such a person will be contacting you at home". Well that's how it felt but perhaps not so brutal, the paediatrician was amazing and its thanks to her that we got an early diagnosis. I've heard stories of children waiting years just to be initally assessed. 

It was kinda like when you bring your new baby home from hospital and you've no idea what to do with it.  Well if there's no frigging manual for a new baby then there certainly ain't one for a child with autism, Jesus Christ. Hello Dr.Google!  

Back to feelings :...

Well walking back to the car I remember talking to Si and saying how gutted I was. He said that we knew he had autism anyway so it was no different, but having someone physically tell you that means that all the slight chances of him being Ok were well and truly stuffed.

Relief?
Once i'd got over the feeling of being hit by the 582 bus there was a sense of relief. Now there would be no more waiting for someone to make a decision on what was wrong. We would have support and very early intervention so now was the time to get some professional help and make life all better again. Relief soon turned to....


Grief
My little dude was never going to be what I had wanted him to be. What if he never ever spoke? What if he could never say "Mum"? You see all these terrible stories about people in care. Was he ever going to live independently? Would he ever get a job? What would happen when I die?
The worst - my God was - he's never going to fall in love, get married/have a partner and have children.  Maybe he'd never know what love was. 

Bearing in mind the poor little bugger was only 2, this was a lot for me to worry about, but I really felt like I'd lost my William and he was gone forever, and it broke my heart.