Never Underestimate Anyone, However Much They Struggle

2020 has been a year most want to forget but even more so for my family. Even before any virus was in the news my family faced difficulties. Back in January my elderly mum fell and broke her femur.

After an operation and a stay in hospital I went from full time caring for two disabled children and carer for my husband to also being full time carer for my mum.

At 75 her recovery has been long and painful and my children have had to adapt to granny not being able to do many of the things she did before, which hasn’t been easy for them as their own struggles and autism make adapting to change hard.

For my 11 year old son it’s been especially hard. He is non verbal with significantly high care needs himself. Unable to read or write, severely autistic with learning disabilities, epileptic and with a large mass on his brain, coupled with vision impairment and a progressive genetic condition, he very much lives in the moment and, so everyone thought, is pretty much unable to imagine the difficulties of another person.

But one day he showed us all why we should never underestimate anyone, regardless how much they appear to struggle.

I had my mum with me as I was taking Isaac to the park. He ran ahead, as always, giggling and flapping with excitement. He didn’t look back once as he headed for the gate, pulled it open and headed for the familiar frames and slides. Seeing him ahead and knowing he was safe I supported my elderly mum so she could see her grandson playing.

Isaac did his familiar (and very rigid) routine, climbing up the smaller easier equipment and sliding down the slide built for children half his age. He then moved to another area, circling the equipment as he always does and flapping. Eager to enjoy her grandson at play my mum ventured down to where Isaac was.

But then Isaac decided his rituals were complete and he began to make his way back up and towards the gate as I watched from nearby. I was torn now between helping my elderly mum with mobility difficulties or chasing my vulnerable non verbal son who has no sense of danger.

But just then my mum called to her grandson:

‘Isaac wait for gran! I need help. Gran has a sore leg.’

As I waited to stop my son escaping so I could help my mum I watched in astonishment as my son stopped, turned and paused. What happened next blew me away and has taught me a lesson I will never forget.

My son, the most unlikely helper, a child still fully dependent on help himself, unable to verbally communicate, not able to read or write at 11, processed the pain and need for help of another person and responded perfectly. He turned and headed right back to his own elderly gran, reached out and took her hand, and guided her safely back through the park.

As I ran down planning to step in and help I found I wasn’t needed so I just took my phone out and snapped this beautiful picture to always remind myself to never ever limit my child again.

Yes my 11 year old is autistic. Yes he’s non verbal. He absolutely has significant and high care needs and always will. He’ll always need 24/7 care.

But that’s not all he is. He’s also a compassionate, loving, wonderful boy who can show the world that we should never limit anyone, regardless what difficulties or struggles they face in life.

Everyone has potential, even the ones who appear to struggle the most.

Why I no longer grieve for my autistic son

Four and a half years ago I wrote a blog titled ‘grieving for a child I haven’t lost’. It has been read over 100 thousand times since I wrote it and appeared in a number of books and on some popular websites. It’s been one of the most commented pieces I have written and evoked very strong feelings from people, both good and bad.

Time has passed and feelings change. Some advised me to delete that blog. But why would I be ashamed of how I truly felt at the time? You can’t eradicate history and it’s not healthy to pretend something wasn’t real when it was. I stand by every word I wrote back then and I know by being so brutally honest it has helped thousands of others feel less alone and more understood. Four and a half years ago my son was non verbal, smearing, screaming for hours, unable to read or write and needed 24 hour care. He was still in nappies at 6 and a half, having seizures, his behaviour was ‘challenging’ and every single day felt never ending.

He’s now 11. He’s still not toilet trained, still smears, now officially diagnosed epileptic, still has challenging behaviour and still non verbal. He still screams, he still can’t read or write or dress himself but something fundamental HAS changed: I no longer grieve for him.

I refuse to debate wether ‘grief’ is the right word to use for what I went through. I am the one that went through it and I know the intensity and depth of my feelings and the struggles both my son experienced, and in turn I felt as his mum and full time carer. The day I sat on that park bench and poured my heart onto paper was a day of truly understanding the reality of the pain, heartbreak and despair I felt. No-one has any right to undermine that unless they were living my life. My feelings and thoughts are not up for debate and never will be.

But things have changed now. A few days ago I took my son a trip to his favourite place. He now has a means of communication and I have learnt to listen. While he still can’t communicate verbally, after a lot of frustration and heartbreak, he found his own way of sharing his world through unconventional means. For him this is a unique combination of you tube, google street map, photos and using items of reference. He shows ingenuity and creativity daily as he tries to convey what he wants to wear, eat, and do. I have had, in turn, to be wiling to put my prejudices aside, be patient, and be willing to listen with more than just my ears.

Many misunderstood my grief as not loving my son. The opposite was in fact true. It was my intense love for him that made me grieve what I was missing as a parent and also the reality of what he will miss throughout his life.

But back to our trip and why I no longer grieve for my autistic son.:

He woke up on Saturday and made his way downstairs to ‘his’ chair. He pressed his iPads on (yes he has two!) and scrolled through his history of videos in YouTube until he found the one he wanted. He then used the other to go on google street map which is set to begin at his own home. Within minutes he had taken himself to the local train station on one iPad whilst watching local trains on the other.

I know my son and I know where he likes to go. Together we have a deep understanding now that has helped us both feel happier. He learnt that communication was worthwhile and I learnt the importance of allowing him to decide and control more about his life.

So I took him on a train to his favourite shopping centre to see lifts. On the train I watched as he flapped happily and looked out the window, holding his favourite teddy up so he could see too. He held my hand to get off the train and he took me to all his favourite lifts. We had lunch together in the food court and he dragged me by the hand and pointed to what he wanted. Then when he’d had enough we came home.

I’ve accepted that this is what makes him happy. He’s accepted that I actually have a use and by communicating other ways instead of screaming (which was his communication) he can achieve more.

I struggled but he struggled more.

Love helped us through. We both needed time.

In the four and a half years of us both needing time and changing I noticed something very important: attitudes to autistics are changing. We are much more accepting of difference now and the need to accommodate. Unfortunately though that acceptance still doesn’t seem to apply to parents as they journey through all the emotions involved in caring for, and living with their autistic children.

I am no longer grieving for my autistic son because I have come to accept and acknowledge that his life will always be different, as will mine, and that is OK. But it’s important that that is seen not as a ‘changing sides’ or ‘finally being positive’ but more about a natural journey of learning, patience and love. I haven’t suddenly become ‘accepting’ it was a process of coming to terms with the fact that my entire life will mean caring for my child and his entire life will involve others caring for him.

My son didn’t scream once on Saturday nor did he self harm or even show challenging behaviour. He was happy and so was I.

It’s still difficult at times, for both of us. But instead of sitting on that bench crying we now walk hand in hand past it as he flaps and laughs and drags me back to the car. He’d rather have fun at a lift or be eating lunch than walk around a park with his mum. That’s not something I grieve about now. It’s something I smile about instead.

The Shock Of Finding Out My Autistic Son Has A Brain Tumour

Two months ago I took my non verbal ten year old for a routine MRI under general anaesthetic. It was his fourth one in two years and we all knew the routine. Isaac is autistic with learning difficulties but his love of toy food and his enjoyment of his iPad meant we had found ways to support him through what was always and long and difficult day.

Very few autistic children ever need an MRI. Unfortunately Isaac also has a genetic condition called Neurofibromatosis Type 1 (NF1 for short) which means his body grows tumours on his nerves, and so two years ago an MRI was requested due to his inability to communicate pain or changes that were viral in monitoring his condition. Isaac’s neurologist wasn’t expecting to find anything suspicious so it came as a shock when three weeks after his first MRI I received a call from her to come up and see her the following day with the added request to ‘bring someone with you if possible.’ That gave me some idea that it wasn’t great news.

Two years ago we found out that Isaac has a developmental eye condition in his right eye which meant he very likely had little to no vision in that eye. They also discovered that his left eye had a tumour on the optic nerve which had been discussed with an oncology team and would be monitored. No-one wants their child discussed by an oncologist but I left feeling positive that at least there was no imminent treatment required.

Isaac’s next MRI six months later found more abnormalities but I was assured these were ‘consistent with NF1 and will continue to be monitored.’ Meanwhile Isaac continued to grow and develop and seemed well.

His next MRI was late due to his neurologist being on long term sick leave. By this point Isaac had rather suddenly started having seizures, first for a minute or so then very quickly turning into 4 and almost 5 minutes long with full shaking, vomiting, thrashing and foaming at the mouth. They were terrifying for everyone. It didn’t bode well for the results of his scan which showed an ‘emerging tumour’ in his right frontal lobe which was almost certainly causing his seizures. It took months but finally we found a medication which seemed to help, though it made Isaac very weak and caused other side effects that I was reassured would settle.

That was a year ago this month. Isaac’s neurologist went on to retire and there was a long wait to be seen by a new neurologist. He referred for another scan as this hadn’t happened and thus it was 9 months before Isaac finally had his next scan. This takes us to two months ago. By this point I was slightly concerned as Isaac had never really picked up since last summer and in fact he was more tired, his walking was worse, he was vomiting randomly and seemed very lethargic.

So here I was in the same day ward for the fourth time as my son yet again had general anaesthetic for a procedure that enabled us to gain more knowledge of what was going on in his body. What happened next turned our whole world upside down.

Three weeks after the MRI I had a call one Thursday evening while my children were eating dinner. It was Isaac’s neurologist apologising for the delay in me getting his results and saying that this was due to medical meetings to discuss his scans and that unfortunately they had found something concerning. My son had a growing brain tumour. A medical team including an oncologist and a neurosurgeon had been discussing my child without me ever knowing.

That night I was told my son needed an operation for a brain tumour biopsy and that the neurosurgeon or oncologist would call with a date to speak to me further and tell me more. Due to Easter weekend and difficulties scheduling a time when both the oncologist and surgeon were available it was two weeks later before I found myself in a cancer ward of my local children’s hospital being shown this scan of my son’s brain tumour and being told that he required a repeat scan urgently followed by an operation to remove some of the tumour for biopsy before possibly needing chemotherapy or radiotherapy. All the time my son was at school as if it was all just my imagination.

We then waited for a call and life seemed to be in limbo. The hospital struggled to find a date so at one point they wanted Isaac admitted indefinitely so that he could take advantage of any cancellation right away. Being autistic, and having an autistic sister and dad this would have made life impossible so it was a huge answer to prayer when I had a return phone call to say someone had cancelled and a day could now be set for Isaac’s repeat MRI.

He had that just 9 days ago. It showed his tumour had grown again so at 3pm that day I had a call to say Isaac was to be admitted to hospital the next day. While I amused and settled my complex needs child the surgeon explained that due to the position of the tumour and the possibility of needing a repeat operation he would need to carry out a much larger operation called a craniotomy and Isaac would be in surgery for some hours. He could not say wether he would recover, wether he would walk or play again or if he would even survive surgery. Signing permission was terrifying.

Isaac had a six hour operational to cut his skull open and remove some of his tumour for biopsy just a week ago. When he finally returned to the ward he would not regain consciousness and it was touch and go throughout that night if he would make it. It was Saturday morning before he woke, a much different child to the one who had went to theatre the morning before.

Isaac got discharged two days after his operation. Having him in hospital and juggling care for two complex autistic children was very very difficult and my whole family went through extreme trauma. It took until two days ago before Isaac could walk and stand unaided. His appearance changed drastically due to extensive bruising. He needed fed for several days as he could not even feed himself.

A week after surgery and he is recovering well. He can stand, walk, use his iPad and say two of the three words he had previously. He can self feed, see from one eye and is aware of much more than everyone expected.

In five days time we are due to get the results of his biopsies. He could face a repeat operation to remove the tumour or chemotherapy or radiotherapy. Or there may be nothing more they can do.

Life has changed significantly. It’s been a huge shock for everyone to find out Isaac had a brain tumour and then watching as he went through extensive and serious brain surgery.

The one blessing of it all though is that Isaac lives in the moment. He wakes everyday and takes on whatever comes his way with a determination, a tenacity and a resilience that assures me that regardless of his extensive communication and learning difficulties his love of life (and love of lifts) will see him through whatever the future has.

Until Wednesday I don’t know any more.

Tonight I am eternally grateful to kiss my son goodnight and hold him in my arms.

Can You Be Severely Autistic And Still Have Empathy?

I admit I have had to get professional support to help me as a parent of a child with severe autism.

I didn’t expect to have a child who could not talk, or who would have severe learning difficulties or scream for hours. I was unprepared for the lack of sleeping, the rigidity of routine, the huge struggles to communicate and the life long high level of care he needs.

I also didn’t expect the professional misunderstandings either.

Please don’t judge me but in my endeavour to help my son I assumed that what these highly trained professionals were telling me was correct. Things like:

‘That behaviour needs stopped because it’s controlling.’

‘It’s extreme sensory seeking and you can’t let him do that!’

‘He needs to be taught strict boundaries.’

‘His behaviour is having a negative and destructive impact on his sister so you need to do somethings out that.’

‘It’s because he has severe anxiety and needs to be in control.’

‘You need to learn to accept he has severe autism and this is just how it is.’

Now I am not saying these are all wrong, or don’t apply to my son, but recently I have been thinking about my son differently though I had no idea how controversial my idea would be.

Could my severely autistic son’s behaviours actually be due to him being very empathetic?

My son has no functional speech. While he can say ‘mummy’ if asked to repeat it or asked a simple question he understands like ‘whose car do you want to go in?’, and he can say ‘no’ when asked simple direct questions using vocabulary he is familiar with, he can’t tell me why he does certain things or why he gets so distressed about other things.

For years people have been trying to ‘guess’ based on their knowledge of autism, or learning difficulties or sensory issues. I was told my son was locked in his own world, consumed with his own thoughts, controlled by anxiety and aware only of his own needs.

When I suggested recently I thought he was actually the loveliest, most empathetic, most caring little boy ever I was looked at as if I had lost the plot.

I shared with a mental health nurse who specialises in challenging behaviour, severe anxiety and learning difficulties the story last week of how my son woke up very early and was making a huge amount of noise and mess in the bathroom removing his myriad of bath toys he has to have in the bath, spilling water everywhere and waking everyone up. Of course I could predict that she suggested he had huge unmet sensory needs and I should try and incorporate more water play to his schedule. It was also suggested he had some type of clock in his room to master when he could get up so as not to disturb everyone else, and other ways to curb and mould his behaviour.

Then I suggested something radical:

I think my son was actually showing concern for others, wanting to help and showing love!

The previous evening I had went over the next days routine. It had started with his sister having a bath, something I knew my son struggled with. My non verbal severely autistic son wasn’t trying to sensory seek, or deliberately wake us all up or control everything: he was taking his toys out the bath to HELP because he CARES about his sister and thought about her the moment he woke.

I started to think about some other behaviours. Could those actually be because he cares deeply for others?

He screams if his sister has socks on when wearing pyjamas. Could it be he himself finds socks uncomfortable and doesn’t want his sister to experience that?

He becomes very agitated if I don’t remove mugs of tea or coffee or glasses of juice immediately after meals. Could it be he knows these could spill and he’s trying to protect us all from wet clothes and wet floors?

He has to be first in the house and first out the house every time or he self harms and screams. Could it be he cares about us all so much he is wanting to make sure everything is ok before the rest of us venture in or out?

He spent years becoming so agitated and distressed at open doors, mostly outside house doors that he felt should be closed? Could it be he wanted to protect others from intruders, the weather or noise? All things he himself struggles with so would naturally want others to be protected from.

He has to have a bath at 6pm regardless what else is going on around him. Could it be he is trying to help us all feel reassured and comforted with familiarity against a world of chaos? Could he be bringing predictability back to help us all feel calmer and more secure?

Of course I can’t say for definite if my interpretation of my son’s behaviours is true because he can’t tell me. However looking at things from the viewpoint that he cares and loves us all and wants to help us has been life changing for him and everyone else.

We used to joke in my house that life revolved around my son. His needs had to come first and we all had to learn to be empathetic and adapt to him. But maybe, just maybe we are doing children like my son a huge injustice.

Can you be severely autistic and still have empathy?

Can you be Scottish and still love English tea?

Why of course you can and the sooner we all realise that severe autism does not mean they only think about themselves then the better things will be for everyone.

Assume people care. Assume they are trying to help.

Always try and see the positive even if others tell you not to.

Five Myths About Having A Non-Verbal Child

I am a parent of a non verbal child. He has always been that way and possibly always will. It’s our ‘normal’, so much so that I often forget when others look at my son or ask him a question that they have no idea he can’t speak. Sometimes I want to tell the world everything about him, because he can’t do so for himself. Other days I want to keep everything about him private and locked into my heart because…well mostly because people, sadly, can be very ignorant.

I know people don’t mean to hurt and they are mostly just curious and well meaning about life with my beautiful son but there really does seem to be so many myths about what it is like living with a non verbal child (or adult). Here are five of the most common ones I have had said to me:

1. “Your house must be so much quieter than mine!”

This one doesn’t offend me but it does make me laugh. Just because a person can not speak does not mean they can’t make noise! My son can scream so loud he frightens the birds away for miles. He makes a lot of noises both with his mouth and with his body. He cries, he laughs and he shouts…it’s just words he can’t make, not noise! He is at least ten times louder than his very verbal sister!

2. ‘You must have no idea what he wants then if he can’t speak?’

This one makes me realise just how much emphasis we seem to put on spoken language when, in fact, it is actually only a small minority of what we as humans use to communicate. I carried my son for nine months, when he was a newborn baby I interpreted his cries when he was hungry, tired or wanted comfort. Nine years later and I still know how to interpret his actions and needs. I can follow his eyes, see his face light up in laughter or he can lead me by the hand to what he wants. He is an incredibly gifted communicator, actually more gifted than many of us who have become complacent in our use of spoken language. He uses google street map to take me to the doctors when ill (you can read more about that here), he uses photographs of places we have been to to request to go again and he uses objects like the TV remote to say he wants to watch TV. He may not have speech but he can still get his message across. It is us who need to learn to listen not him who needs to learn to communicate.

3. ‘Give him time. One day he will come out with full sentences!’

I know people want to be positive and offer hope. I get that. I understand that people don’t understand severe autism, global delay and learning difficulties fully and base their experience mostly on what they have read or heard from the media or friends. People don’t mean to hurt me when they say this, but it does hurt. While my heart would love my son to speak to me suddenly in sentences, with the exception of a miracle, that isn’t going to happen. There are only three recognisable vowel sounds in his ‘vocabulary’ at almost ten. He has ‘o’ (sounded out like awww) and ‘mmmmm’ and ‘ahhhhh’ when eating but these are considered so infantile his expressive language has been assessed at approximately 6 months old. It has remained at this age for three years with no signs of any improvement.

As hard as it is for society to accept; there are people who never develop speech and remain non verbal all their lives. There is offering hope to people and then there is false hope. The latter can destroy and damage so much. My son MAY say some words one day but the reality is he is more likely to remain non verbal. I can accept that and I hope one day others will too.

4 ‘I bet he must be so angry and frustrated all the time.’

I can understand why people would think this. Of course, like any other person, my son has times of frustration and anger. Mostly these, like any other 9 year old, are actually because he can not have his own way rather than directly due to his communication struggles. He IS understood and he IS happy. My son has never known any different. It isn’t like he had speech, became reliant on it like us, then lost it. He has always been non verbal and he has found his own way to communicate on his terms. If people take the time to get to know him they can tune into his needs and wants fairly quickly. Out of everyone in my family he laughs more than any of us so his inability to speak certainly isn’t making him angry or frustrated all the time, anything but!

5 ‘That’s so sad. You must be so heartbroken all the time.’

While it may be annoying having your child whining or nagging for something when you are busy, or asking a million questions all the time, how would you feel if you never heard your child say ‘mum’? Of course I get sad sometimes, I would not be human if I didn’t. There are moments it catches me off guard, like when I see my daughter singing Christmas carols or when someone asks me what my son wants for Christmas and he can’t tell me. On the other hand I have become much more grateful for the times my son climbs on my knee at 9 to show me something on YouTube he likes, or the times he squeezes me hard and still wants me to lift him up even though he is almost my height. When he takes my hand as he climbs out the car or rests his head on mine, he doesn’t need words to say how much he loves me.

Yes a part of my heart feels the pain of never hearing his voice but I am anything but heartbroken all the time. I have a bond with my son which is like nothing else. Silence says everything when we are just sitting together and those moments refresh me whenever I need it.

There are so many more misunderstandings about children like my son. Sometimes I deliberately don’t tell people he can’t talk because they immediately seem to stop talking to him just because he can’t speak to them. That upsets me, but more importantly it upsets my son.

I have had other parents tell their children to avoid my son out of fear that perhaps his non verbal status is somehow contagious. People generally equate non verbal with ‘not with it’ which could not be further from the truth with my son. In fact if he ignores you it says far more about you than him!

Being non verbal is not holding my son back, society is.

It is ok to not know about something you don’t have personal experience of but please be willing to learn.

I am a parent of a non verbal child. I don’t need to be his voice because he is perfectly capable of making his own needs and wants known in his own way: He just doesn’t use speech to do so.

My friend and fellow blogger Chris Bonnello hit the nail on the head with this (to see more of his fantastic memes and blogs see http://www.autisticnotweird.com)

A Mother’s Cry: Can my Disabled Child Ever Become a Christian?

It’s Easter Sunday, the very centre of my beliefs as a Christian, that my Lord and Saviour not only died for me on a cross to carry my sin, but he rose again on the third day to beat death once and for all to enable me (and everyone else who believes) to have eternal life.

I sat in church today and heard the gospel message preached with my beautiful children beside me, just the same as my parents did the generation before. I never tire of hearing the message of Jesus crucified and at 15 it impacted me personally on such a level my life has been rooted and grounded in my faith ever since.

Yet here I am faced with a massive question that has caused me to question my faith in a way I never ever expected: if he wanted to, could my disabled son ever become a Christian?

Why would I ask this? Well every tract I have ever read (there have been hundreds), every gospel message I have heard preached (there have been many) and every evangelist I have listened to have all taught a way to salvation that is fundamentally impossible for my child to ever achieve.

This is Isaac. He is, like everyone of us, made in the image of God. He is the most beautiful and incredible gift ever given to me. He is a true miracle having been prayed for and believed for against all odds. I was given medically less than 1% chance of ever having children yet after ten years of infertility God blessed me with not one, but two, babies. Isaac was the first born of twins. He has soft dark brown hair, hazel eyes that shine light and sparkle with life even if one of them doesn’t work and the other hides a tumour on its optic nerve. He makes noises, though at 9 and a half none of these noises form words that you and I can distinguish. He has severe autism. He has severe learning difficulties. He is epileptic. He has a brain tumour that means he will forever function as a very young child, most likely no more than aged 2 to 3 years.

So when I hear today’s gospel message once again I am crying, not only because the story of my Saviour always touches the very core of my being but because I know how the service will end and I can’t help wondering…

Can my disabled child ever be saved?

You see the way of salvation in the Bible is clear. It is based on such well known and readily quoted verses of so many believers: Romans chapter 10 and verse 9; “That if you confess with your mouth that ‘Jesus is Lord’, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

I believe that.

But what if someone has such significant learning difficulties they will never understand and they can not speak their own name let alone say ‘Jesus is Lord’. What happens then?

Then there’s the famous one in John chapter 3 and verse 16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

I believe that too.

But what about those who are cognitively unable to believe?

I could go on and talk about sin, baptism, the work of the cross, bridging the gap between God and man and all sorts of things that preachers and tracts talk about. Not one of these things will ever be understood by my son.

If he can’t understand the story can he ever believe in God?

He is never going to raise his hand at an alter call. He will never go forward for prayer to turn his life around, he will never hold a microphone and testify to how he was once an addict and now he is a Christian.

The fact of life is, for my son, and so many others, we need to see salvation in a different way.

Maybe I am tearing up the theology books here, maybe I am shaking traditions, but I believe my baby boy will always be saved. He will never be the lost sheep that the Shepherd longed to find. He will never be the prodigal son. He will never sin. The acts of the sinful nature (according to Galatians chapter 5 verses 19-20) are sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery, idolatry and witchcraft, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, orgies and the like…one thing I can category say is that my son will never do these.

He embodies innocence. As Psalm 139 says he is fearfully and wonderfully made. Like us all he was made in the image of God. But unlike us, he can not choose to sin, neither can he choose to believe.

He can flap as we sing praises, he can make a joyful noise, he can rest in the presence of God. He can feel peace, experience joy and love deeply. I believe he can know God in his Spirit even if his mind and body don’t function as well as we would all like.

I believe he is in the palm of Gods hand.

I believe in grace that a loving God has searched my son and knows his heart, that he is familiar with all his ways. He alone created his inmost being.

God has this covered.

Can my son ever get saved when he can’t believe and confess like every preacher and tract says he has to?

I can’t quote you scripture but my mother’s heart cries out to a God who hears my prayers and is carrying my son both now and forever.

That’s my mother’s cry.

How My Severely Autistic Son Used YouTube To Speak To Me

Isaac loves his iPad. It is with him from the moment he wakes until the second he goes to sleep. He has a few games he likes and he really enjoys looking through the photos but his all time love is YouTube.

He is pretty typical of many 8 year old boys in that sense. However there is something very different about Isaac: he has no spoken language at all. Isaac has severe autism as well as other complex medical issues and he has poor eye sight. He can not read or write and certainly can not type into a you tube search bar. He fumbles his way through you tube by clicking on random videos and spends most of his day flapping in delight at lift doors opening and closing over and over again.

When Isaac does listen to songs they tend to be very random or theme tunes of favourite programmes aimed at very young children like ”Peppa Pig’ or ‘Wooly and Tig’. He rarely allows anyone else to touch his iPad so he has to go on ‘rabbit trails’ through lift videos or episodes of Wooly and Tig to find anything different. Due to the nature of the video playing app he tends to be faced with a fairly limited repertoire but this has suited him immensely due to his need and love for repetition.

I am not afraid to admit I often struggle to parent my son. He gets frustrated (I absolutely understand that) and that can lead to hours of screaming or throwing himself down the stairs or hitting and pinching people. He has severe phobias of things I can not control like open doors or other children (including his sister) eating and drinking. His life has to be the same all the time which makes living with him quite restrictive. He is not toilet trained nor can he care for any of his own needs. Some days I get very low and I question ‘why us?’ My faith has been taken to levels of testing I never knew existed before.

Then one night last week I stopped what I was doing and just sat beside my son. I longed to hold him but I knew he would attack me. My love for him was overwhelming yet I was unsure if he even knew who I was. I sat beside him on his bed and I could feel the tears building at the back of my eyes. I have not been able to take him to church for weeks now because of his outbursts and his inability to cope with the slightest change. Had God forgotten about my child? Did my son have any idea of the world around him or how much he was loved? I was weeping for my child. My heart was broken both for myself and my son.
In that moment I heard words that seemed to come from God himself. A male voice I had never heard before. The words caught my heart before my brain even fully processed them..

 
“Don’t weep for me…”

What? My son was looking right at me smiling. He knew who I was and not only did he love me but he had something to share with me. He moved closer to me as his finger pulled the scroller on the you tube bar back to the start of where he wanted it to be…

Somehow, I believe from God himself, my non verbal severely autistic son with limited eyesight and no ability to read or write, had found a song on you tube that was saying everything HE wanted me to know…

“Don’t weep for me, God made me this way. He’s chosen not to let me speak, but I hear every word you say…

Because the pieces of many colours symbolises what I am, it represents the hope of a cure that lies in God’s own hands” 

He pulled that bar back to the exact spot again and again as those words washed right over us both.
I was weeping for a child I thought I had lost but here that same child was showing me more than his own words ever could in a way so powerful, so emotional and so spiritual it was like God himself was in that room. 

I can not explain how he found that video. I can not explain how he understood those words and related them to himself. I have no logical explanation to the timing of me arriving in his room and him finding it or the fact he would scroll right back to the start of that chorus time and time again.
We sat there together for what felt like hours. The words of that song healing places in my heart I had not even realised were broken.

 
It was an experience I will never forget. My non verbal severely autistic son with complex medical and developmental needs brought me to tears by using you tube to communicate something I will never forget. 

Isaac can not speak to me but God can use any means he wants to give him a voice. That day he used you tube and this song.
Have a listen to what my son wants everyone to know:

 

Why I cried when my child had a meltdown on a busy train

Isaac was so excited. He had watched so many trains come and go from the busy platform while he flapped, clapped and laughed at the doors opening and closing and the whistle blow as each train pulled away. He loves trains and even more so when he gets to ride on them.

Our train was due next so I held his hand and gathered up our bags. I knelt down beside him and told him we needed coach B and we would sit at a table. I was unsure if he understood as at 8 he has complex autism, learning difficulties and a brain tumour. I had already prepared him though and just the day before we had been on the same train for the journey down. He had loved that journey and I was sure he would love this one too.

But as I helped him over the large gap and headed for our booked seats on the busy train I had no idea of the huge meltdown I was about to face.

The seats we booked were not where they should have been and instead of a table of four we were instead booked to sit on a row of two with the other two seats behind. No amount of explaining would work and Isaac sat down in the aisle of the busy train and screamed.

He screamed and he screamed. He banged his head and bit himself. He shook and kicked his legs. He could not cope with such a simple change as a different seat. It was awful.

He was scared. I was scared. He was crying, his sister was crying and I was crying inside. It was like a scene from a horror movie with all eyes on the train on me and my son and I had no idea what to do. My son was a danger to himself and others and was causing an obstruction on a busy train that was unable to stop.

I sat on the floor beside my traumatised son and tried to calm him as a member of the train crew approached us. Through the noise and distress of my son and his sisters crying I somehow managed to explain to the assistant what the problem was.

Immediately she did everything she could to help. She checked every carriage on that train for a feee table but there was none available. I tried to see if Isaac would sit on some fold out seats near a window or perhaps even stand at the door. I had told him we would be sitting at a table together and that was all his brain could process. One little change had disturbed him so much his body was in crisis.

And then a stranger offered to help. With tears in her own eyes she came down to where I was and said she could see the distress of my son and would he like her table seat. She was not angry or frustrated, or even annoyed; she showed compassion and gave up her own seat to see my child happy.
I thanked her and we sat at her table and immediately Isaac began to calm down. Everyone was looking at me and I was waiting for a stare or rude comment or cheeky remark. We got none of that. All I saw were people moved by what this lady did and by seeing a child with special needs so upset.

I was so touched but more was to come.

As the train employee returned she handed me a bag. She apologised for the booking mistake, gifted us a whole bag of food from the buffet trolley and called ahead to our destination and booked assistance for us. She then asked what Isaac enjoyed doing and when I said he loves pressing buttons she lead him through the entire train and let him press buttons at doors, toilets and even on her ticket machine.

She turned Isaac’s distress to utter delight. As I walked through the carriage and past the passenger who had give up her seat I looked at her and cried. She too has eyes filled with emotion as she watched my son laugh as the toilet door opened when he pressed the button.

Yesterday I witness kindness on a scale that changed me. I saw not only autism awareness but autism acceptance and compassion. Instead of stares I saw smiles. Instead of rudeness I saw understanding.

My child is not badly behaved or spoiled. He was highly distressed over a simple change that I had no control over. He was told something would happen and that didn’t go to plan. He could not voice what was upsetting him and he was scared we were on the wrong train since we had no table.

I cried when my son had a meltdown on a busy train yesterday because I hate seeing him so anxious and scared, but I also cried at the actions of complete strangers and simple acts of kindness that I will never ever forget.

I found this bag this morning as I was sorting though our luggage. It reminded me again of yesterday and why I cried when my son had a meltdown on a busy train.

How Google Street Map Has Given One Non Verbal Autistic Boy a voice

If there is one thing my son Isaac has taught me in the last 8 years it is this:

 
Communication is much more than words.

 

Isaac has severe autism. He has no spoken language. He has global delay, significant learning difficulties and NF1. He struggles with lots of things in life ,but yet there is one thing he excels at and has done for a few years now: he has taught himself to communicate via google street map!

It is a different way of communicating, but for him it works much better than speech or any traditional communication app.

Wherever I take Isaac, wether it is somewhere he is familiar with, or hundreds of miles away to a place he has never been before, he has a special talent of retracing the exact route once home using just google street map and his incredible memory.
In the summer of 2014 when he was just six year old we went on holiday to a cottage 120 miles from home yet a week later he retraced the exact route we travelled including stopping at the very same service station we took a comfort break at!

I was amazed that a child who has no understanding of numbers or letters and barely turned when his name was called could hold such an incredible talent. I was sure it was a one off.

He attends a school for children with complex needs and is transported there in transport alone for his own safety due to challenging behaviour and seizures. His school is 14 miles from home yet he takes himself there by memory via google street map every afternoon once home and sitting in ‘his’ chair. I put this ability down to the fact he does the same journey daily. I wondered if he had the location stored.

One day I watched him.

What I witnessed gave me an insight into part of his world I can never be a part of and which he could never tell me about. Watching him use google street map gave me peace of mind as he showed me step by step the route his taxi goes and even where the car parks to get him out…in fact he even took me to the door of the building he goes into! All without speaking a single word

He uses google street map for his every communication need now.

If he is hungry he goes onto the street map and travels from his home address to a restaurant nearby and brings his iPad to me to show me.
If he wants to go out he uses google street map to show me where he wants to go, from the church he goes to every week, to the train station, and the local park. He takes himself to his grans house and to shopping centres to tell me he wants to go and watch lifts.
He has discovered he can enter a local hotel using google street map and this has opened up new unique ways for him to communicate too.
He tells me when he requires his continence products changed by taking himself to the hotel, going inside and finding the toilets!
He goes into rooms in the hotels and finds an ensuite to communicate he wants a bath at night. When ready for bed he moves around the rooms until he finds a bed and points to it.
He finds my car in the driveway to ask to go in the car.
He finds a clothes shop in the high street to ask me to get him dressed.
When he was highly distressed one day and I could not stop him screaming I put on google street map and he moved around until he found a house with a door open to show me that there was a door open somewhere he could see and this was what was causing his distress! I was in awe of his ability to find such an ingenious way to communicate.

Two weeks ago though he shocked me once again. He was more lethargic than usual and quiet (he may not speak but he makes a lot of noise!). He came and sat beside me and used his skill on google street map to take himself to the doctors surgery! For the first time ever he was able to communicate that he was feeling unwell! This was incredible. I cried. It was nothing serious thankfully but to be able to say he communicated he was not feeling good to a doctor was amazing.

Isaac is not a genius. He can not write his own name, dress himself, read or write or use cutlery. He requires round the clock care. He can not speak one word. He is severely autistic yet he has found a way to connect with others that is as unique and special as he is.

Google street map has helped millions find their way in life but none more so than one non verbal autistic little boy named Isaac.

How my sons inability to speak is tearing our relationship apart.

This is something I have never written about before or admitted to anyone, but I have always struggled with my relationship with my son compared to his sister. I don’t love him any less nor do I favour one above the other but there is something that prevents me being as close to him as I am to his sister: his inability to speak.
The older he gets the more it is literally tearing us apart and that breaks my heart.

We are both trying, we are determined to try and overcome this but no matter what we do it is always there lurking like a dark shadow.

We play together, we ‘read’ together (well I read to him!), we share games and we eat together but it is incredibly hard to reach into him when he is non verbal. That breaks my heart. Having no spoken language at all really affects my son so much.

Having no language at all at almost 8 years old has forced him to be more independent.
He can’t ask for help or even ask for something to eat. So he uses his physical skills to open the fridge and help himself or open the front door and take himself out. The other night he took himself to bed because he was unwell. He has in the past brought me a cup or a bottle of juice and I have found him sitting at the table with an empty plate in front of him too. I would love to be able to hear him simply say ‘mummy, I have a sore head.’ Or ‘can I have something to drink please.’. He won’t always have access to the bottle of juice or cup to let others know what he wants.

Having no language is making him frustrated and angry.
I know if, like his sister, he could talk about his day at school and let us know what has upset him we could help him calm down and share his day with us. When he looks at a box of toys and points it is incredibly upsetting for him when we continually have to guess what it is he wants and we frequently get it wrong. He gets upset at certain programmes on the television but has no way of telling me why so he gets angry instead. He finds open doors highly distressing but has no means to tell me why so instead he becomes frustrated and violent. Speech would help us resolve all these issues. Some will be quick to suggest sign language or picture communication but these are so limited and his inability to make the right sign or find a relevant picture just make him even more angry and frustrated.

Having no language means he is at the mercy of others to communicate on his behalf.
Could you imagine having a wonderful holiday, printing out all your photographs and yet someone who wasn’t even there with you decides to tell everyone about YOUR holiday without allowing you to say a word? I am certain you would find that irritating and annoying and you would become very cross. This is what is happening every single day when I send my non verbal son to school. Adults dictate what information I receive on my sons behalf and tell me (if I am lucky enough!) about the experiences he has had. It’s not what I want. It’s not what my son wants either! He wants to be able to tell me about his day, his way! When I pick my daughter up from school she tells me about her favourite pencil breaking, the games she played at playtime and the funny shaped banana a child had in their packed lunch box! This is life from her perspective and something I can never ever get from her brother. A huge chunk of his day is a mystery to me and he has no language to enable that gap to be bridged. Have you any idea how difficult and heartbreaking that is for us both? It rips our relationship apart.

Having no language is life limiting for him.
He will never be able to read to me, or to anyone else. He won’t ever be able to use his voice to tell a joke or share a story. He won’t be able to sing or even give me cheek. As he gets older he will not be able to use his voice to ask a girl out or even say ‘I do’ on his wedding day. Asking the price of an item in a shop, asking directions, even telling the bus driver where he wants to go are all going to be difficult if not impossible. He is likely to need someone with him to support him throughout his life. Using a telephone is never going to be easy and connecting with other people will always be much more complicated.

We have tried alternative methods of communication. We spent years trying makaton but he can’t manage the signs himself and is struggling with picture communication too.

I know if he could speak so many things would be different. I know if he could speak we would be so much closer. How do I know this? Because he has a twin sister and my bond with her is strengthened every single day through language. She tells me about her day at school, her worries, her achievements. We play together and I join in her games because language enables us to play together. She reads to me and with me. She can tell me what she wants and I can listen. She shares her emotions, her ideas; her life with me through talking.

The more she talks to me the more we bond. The less my son is able to say the communicate the more our relationship is strained.

I am working on my relationship with my son every day. We have a very special bond and a deep love but there remains an invisible problem between us that is tearing us apart: the fact he is non verbal.

If I could change anything it would be that he would one day be able to speak to me. If only love could make him talk…