The first time I heard the heartbeat on the monitor, I cried. I wept because I had a feeling that something was wrong from the moment I found out that I was pregnant. I found out later that many women acknowledge pregnancy worry, and I dismissed my feelings as common. Looking back, I can say that my intuition was correct; something was wrong from the start. From what I know so far, researchers do not know what percentage of the spectrum population comes from mothers who experienced a feeling that something was wrong in utero and in infancy. In the womb, I did not feel my baby move around or kick very much. It left me unsettled after hearing other expectant mothers blush as they tell stories of their acrobatic belly dwellers. Everyone dismissed my feelings including my husband and my mother. I knew something was off during pregnancy, and I knew at birth. While I understand this is rare, I am a testament to the fact that it does happen.
In the first three months, I felt like my son was not bonding with me. The rejection left me at the mercy of post-partum depression. He wasn’t breast feeding correctly. At two weeks, the doctors said that if he did not start eating more, then they would have to admit him to the hospital for “failure to thrive.” I cried tears of guilt, which led to feedings every hour to every hour and a half. The old school notion that autism is caused by “cold” mothers is preposterous. Quite oppositely, my intuitions made me dote on my child even more than normal. I insisted on breast feeding, because I wanted to have a skin-on-skin bonding experince. I had heard somewhere that if he did have autism, maybe that will help. He did gain enough weight to stay out of the hospital, but the eating issues continue five years later. I worried every time we went to the doctors; I worried that someone would notice that my child was not acting like “normal” babies. In fact, not even my family could see what I could see as his mother.
Others could say his name, and he would look but only for a second before looking away. I call this eye gazing. After three months, I found myself crying at the OB’s office during my follow up visit. At the time, I couldn’t admit to anyone what was happening. The doctor said if my depression couldn’t be controlled soon, then we would have to consider medication. I told her that would not be necessary, and in my mind I was determined to make a connection with my child and make him happy. It didn’t happen overnight. It didn’t even happen in a year. I still work to keep the tantrums to a minimum, but back then I did not know how. I bought a book about baby yoga and tried relaxing techniques including aromatherapy at bathtime. He liked to be pat on the bottom harder than a typical child. I continued to look for ways that would stop the crying. We bought one of every single pacifier type known to man, and not one of them worked.
He cried nonstop for the first six months. If he wasn’t eating or sleeping, he was crying. Intense motion and extreme cold air could calm him for a moment or two, and the Jumperoo quickly became a great investment. My family and friends call that colic. My grandmother said things like, “If you don’t do something to get that baby used to lights and sounds he is going to have a hard time with life.” Even now, I chuckle thinking about that. How was I to do that? My solution was to let him wear sunglasses in Wal-Mart, keep the lights down low at home, and the television at a minimum. After all, why can’t he be comfortable in his own home too? Also, I soon learned that I would have to give up my vacuum cleaner forever in exchange for hardwood floors. The noise of the vacuum still freaks him out.
Those first six months were hard to deal with. It was full of internal struggle, denial, sadness, and guilt. However, I learned that intuition is a powerful thing. I would like others to know that if they experience red flags about a child’s behavior, then it is best to pay attention. It is possible to notice autism during infancy. We are living proof of that concept.
