“I don’t think his final diagnosis will be Autism.”

In 2002, I met a girl online while searching for other fans of a Spanish pop singer. We quickly became friends and, when my best friend died of lupus a year later, she was a huge support for me. Fifteen years later, we remain close friends and confidants. During those fifteen years, she went on to become a Pediatrician. Dr. Friend now works at the clinic of a prominent hospital in her city.

She lives far away from us, so she hasn’t seen Big Bear since he was a baby and this was her first time meeting Little Bear. She knows that Little Bear has an ASD diagnosis and I had told her about my husband’s freakout on Monday.

Little Bear has done phenomenally at home with me this past week. On Monday, he was throwing tantrums and wouldn’t sign “want” at all. Today he didn’t throw a tantrum until 3 hours into our day when he was legitimately tired and done. When we did our puzzle together, he not only signed “want” every time, but he coupled it with “Yo” (“I” in Spanish) and the name of the animal that the piece was related to. This was after only four days of working with him at home. He is like a different child.

So it was this Little Bear that Dr. Friend met. She gave him a board book of Brown Bear Brown Bear What Do You See and, after reading it twice, read Dr. Seuss’s ABC with him. She was surprised to see that he knew huge portions of the book by heart and was able to turn the pages with minimal help.

Later, we took our cat to the vet since she had been suffering from a UTI for a week. Little Bear fell asleep in the car on the way. I asked Dr. Friend to stay in the car with him while I took the cat and Big Bear inside for our appointment. At some point during the appointment, he woke up and she brought him inside and showed him the cats and the fish. During the entire time, he was well behaved, held her hand, and smiled at her while he laughed at the animals.

Later that evening, Papi Bear and I took her to a Brazilian restaurant for live music and too many caipirinhas. After two or or three, I asked her for her opinion on Little Bear.

“I only just met him, but I don’t think his final diagnosis will be autism. He doesn’t exhibit a lot of the signs of children on the spectrum. He is delayed linguistically and socially, but he was completely fine spending time with me and he’s very interactive with people he knows. He’s very affectionate, he follows directions or he at least understands them and chooses not to follow them.”

She advised us to continue with his therapies, get as many as possible, have him in the special needs school for at least a year, but she thinks he will eventually mainstream.

I think this is what my husband needed to hear and I do think her comments are more along the lines of what the neurologist feels, even though his therapists and pediatrician continue to say he is autistic. Ultimately it’s the symptoms that matter rather than the actual diagnosis, but to hear from a trusted friend that he is social and cognitively where he should be definitely relieved some of my anxiety.

First Sentence!

Little Bear was sitting in his seat the table eating his favorite food ever: smokey mozzarella salad from Fresh Market.
“Ques be shek.”

Papi Bear and I looked at each other. Little Bear pointed at the TV.

“Did he just say…”

“I think I heard it, too.”

We put Baby Shark on the TV. Little Bear got a huge sm
ile and started singing along.

April 11, 2017. The day Little Bear made his first non-memorized, not-requested sentence: “Quieres Baby Shark?”Screen Shot 2017-04-12 at 12.49.15 AM

Papi!!!

Little Bear has been going through a Papi Bear phase lately, but it has always hurt Papi Bear that he doesn’t say “Papi” (or Mama, for that matter). He’ll say it when he’s not around, he’ll say it when he’s gone, but he never says it to him, and that’s what really matters to us.

Today we decided Little Bear would come home from school at 11:30, because it seems that most of his trouble happens in the afternoon. Papi Bear dropped him off at 11:45. I opened the door and Little Bear smiled at me and said, “Hi!” I said, “Papi! He said hi!” Little repeated, “Hi, mama!” and giggled as I took him out of his car seat. I held him up to the window and he pointed at Papi Bear and said, “Papi!”

Me: “Dijo Papi! Lo escuchaste?!”

Papi Bear: “Parece que si, no?”

LB: Papi! Papi!

Papi Bear almost cried. I could see the tears as he said, “Por fin, hijo. POR FIN!”

And then LB proceded to have a complete meltdown because Papi Bear had to go back to work. Five minutes screaming at the door, “PAPI! DADA! NOOOOO!” I opened the door and he ran to the end of the driveway and looked for his Papi, screaming because he wasn’t there. I dragged him back inside and called Papi Bear through FaceTime. I handed Little Bear the phone. Little Bear calmed down. They “conversed” for five minutes and LB kept his own face visible the entire time. When Papi Bear said he had to go, Little Bear said, “Muah, Muah, Muah! Bye Bye!” and blew kisses to his Papi. He didn’t cry at all when he gave it back. He took his milk, went to bed and is now napping happily.

And Mama Bear and Papi Bear are both so happy with their little boy’s new milestone.