Asher was a very social infant. He looked at people, connected with them, loved attention, flirted and cooed. He smiled constantly, he giggled a lot. He loved to be held, hugged, cuddled, he was easy to soothe. He only cried when he was sick or in pain. He was interested in things going on around him. He didn't adhere to a rigid schedule. Life didn't revolve around a routine that couldn't be altered without disaster. He was happy. Very happy. In fact we got constant comments, "I've never seen that baby cry!" "He always smiles" "It is weird how happy he is" Whenever we took him out to eat, he would play peekaboo with other customers, flirt with the waitresses....in fact all we ever heard was how social he was, how happy he was, how easy going he was.
I still find find myself looking through the thousands of pictures of my happy baby, looking for signs, things that would have clued us in. According to the neurologist at LADDERS, there had to be some signs. But honestly, just his allergies. Thats it. Yet last night, I found myself once again watching all 30 videos I have from when he was 18 months and younger. I watched them all from start to finish. And I sat there with this huge stupid grin on my face, because my baby...my baby was gorgeous, cute, funny, perfect. And he is still most of those things, but certainly not perfect. I think we all lose that as we get older.
Still I find it sad to watch the videos and look at the pictures. Because through that gorgeous, happy little chubby face, shines all my hope for his future. It is like playing "where's Waldo" except where playing "Where's the Autism?" Somewhere in a wide sea of smiles and giggles is the one picture/video, the one clue that we missed. The one piece of the puzzle that would have shown us what was coming.
Most days I don't think about it at all. I'm glad for Asher's happy infancy. I think having happy early days has programmed him to take a lot of the hard stuff he now has to face in stride. But then a day will come along where you can't help but stare it right in the face. And all you hear in your head is that jingle "one of these things just doesn't belong" and of course its always Asher Ben.
Kylee and Ethan had a birthday party a couple weeks ago. Birthday parties are always fun with Asher. They go one of two ways. The first way is the one we hope for, that Asher is able to stay calm and collected despite sensory issues. The second way, the one that happens more often, is that we have to leave with our kicking screaming child folded neatly under Phill's arms.
This party was different. There were maybe 8 children there. And all were in bright spirits and full of energy. He wanted to play with them, wanted to be part of the group and keep up. He was really trying, even though you could tell his sensory issues had him crawling out of his skin. At one point all the kids were dancing to the Brave Sound track. And there he was, eyes closed, hair disheveled, dancing with the kids and screaming and laughing right along with them. He fit right in, looked just like them apart from the silly cheese expression on his face. I watched from the doorway, loving each moment of it, soaking up the feeling of not worrying for a moment. And then I blinked and he was gone. Like literally gone from the room. I found him in the hallway, his fists bunched by his side, red face, not crying, but unable to speak. He tried to speak, but he couldn't get the words out. This is Asher over stimulated. So I brought him up to Kylee and Ethan's room and asked him if he wanted alone time. He was able to shake his head yes. So I left him in there for a little while by himself.
About 20 minutes later all the kids were screetching and laughing in the other room and I thought to myself "Damn Asher is missing a good time" and then my brother in law taps me on the shoulder and says "You should go see this" So I poke my head into the living room. I don't see him at first. At first I see the couch packed with all the kids sitting with their legs sticking out, they are watching Brave and are all kicking their legs and waving their arms...having a blast. And my eyes scan to the end of the couch and there is my little guy. Looking like everyone else, apart from the fact that he had no clothes on except his diaper. "one of these things just doesn't belong" So I turn to my husband and joke "I wonder which one of those kids has Autism" and we smile to ourselves and have a private giggle. Because as sad as it is to always have the odd one out, we both know that we have a smart child. He wanted to play with the kids, he wanted to dance and sing, and screetch and laugh. But something had to give for his sensory to allow him to participate, for Asher, it was his clothes. So we let him finish out the party in his diaper. It was nice to be able to do that, since we were at my sister's house. We know that it won't always be okay and that at other parties, we'd have to leave. But on this day, he figured out what he needed to do so he could belong. What a smart boy.
