Do I Have Autism?

It takes me 6 minutes to drive Ian to school, 9 if I happen to hit the red light at the intersection. It's usually a ride filled with a lot of laughter, a lot of talking about the sky, and there is the occasional argument between Ian and his little sister, snappy conversations between Ian and me, or what I like to call 'loud discussions' between the three of us.

Wednesday morning was no different... Until we pulled out onto the main road, that is. Ian was behind me, flipping through some papers, and I heard him muttering something.

"What's that, hon?" I called back to him as I pulled onto the road bordered by orange groves and pointed out the pink in the sky. "I couldn't hear you."

"Do I have ah... ah... um, au...? You know, that word I hear you say sometimes?"

I literally felt the world stop turning for a heartbeat as my stomach dropped. I knew exactly what word he was referring to. "Autism?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Do I have autism?"

I looked in the rear view mirror to see his deep brown eyes looking back at me, and I smiled at him. "Yes, you do. We've talked about it before. Do you remember?"

He looked down at the papers he was holding, and I saw it was a special brochure I had picked up at his therapy appointment. It was full of listings for agencies that specialize in working with special needs clients, and I hadn't even gotten a chance to look through it. In fact, I had forgotten it was there.

"Why do you need this? You said that I was just wired differently from other people, but this is a whole book about people that 'help' people with autism. Why do I need help? Is there something wrong with me?"

I had four minutes left until pulling up to the school, and I contemplated just driving past and coming back home so I could talk to him. We have never kept anything a secret, and we are as open and honest as we can be without overwhelming him with information he cannot possibly process. He asks questions and we answer him, but in that moment I wondered if we hadn't done enough to assure him that he is perfect just the way he is.

So, I jumped in with both feet because I didn't have any other choice. "'Help' doesn't mean anything bad. 'Helping' can mean something as simple as showing a friend how to sound out a word they don't know, right? Well, helping someone with autism just means that we have to do things a little differently sometimes. We need to teach you things that every person needs to learn, but you have a different way of learning those things than a lot of other people. You are so amazing, so unique, that people have to take special classes just to learn how to teach you correctly. Isn't that something?"

He was quiet, and I wondered if he could possibly understand what I was trying to say. I have always told him that his 'wiring' is just altered from other peoples' and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I have explained to him that some things might be more difficult for him, but that doesn't make him 'strange' or 'wrong,' and I have constantly reminded him that he is never a burden even when we get frustrated with something that's happening (yes, he does sometimes ask us if he's ruined our day, and he frequently apologizes for 'being a jerk' or 'hard to deal with'). I have used the word autism before, but in that moment I wondered if perhaps he didn't really grasp the term and hadn't been able to absorb what we have been telling him all this time.

"So, I have it then? I have Autism."

"Yes, you do, buddy. Do you have any more questions?"

He smiled at me, and shook his head. "Nah. It's okay. I guess I'm pretty special, huh?"

He couldn't possibly know how right he is!!!!