Aiden (continued)

Let me share with you the basic details of a typical day with Aiden.

We wake up, he is such an early bird, 6:00 is pretty typical. He is always cheerful when he gets up, and wants a snack and some cartoons.

It never takes too long before the tranquility wears off. For example: the first issue of the day today was that he wanted to eat his oatmeal while sitting wrapped in a big fuzzy blanket at the table. I simply asked him to leave the blanket in the living room so it wouldn't get oatmeal on it. The reaction was loud, and tearful. He threw himself on the floor screaming. He "needed" the blanket. I took the blanket and walked away, leaving him to finish the tantrum on his own. And because it is still early in the day, the incident didn't last long. He sat down and ate his breakfast cheerfully, saving his energy for the next round.

About an hour after breakfast the kids are playing in the playroom. Jack is sitting in a chair playing quietly. Aiden decides he wants to sit in the chair too, even if this means brother has to move. So, as if Jack were completely invisible, Aiden plops into the chair. I remind him about personal space, and that he may sit when Jack is finished. But Aiden already has is blinders on. He doesn't like my voice, and all he knows is that he wants the chair now. I remove him in time so that he doesn't knock Jack over. Aiden goes limp noodle on the floor. I can't explain the noises he makes. I ask him if he wants to walk to his room or if I should carry him. No answer, just noises.

This is how it will be all through our day. Loud noises at inappropriate times. Running away in public (he doesn't walk along with us). Interrupting during every conversation. And at least one or two tantrums that involve kicking just because he doesn't like to hear the sound of my voice. I will probably find at least one new large bloody scab that he has made sometime during the night or when I wasn't looking, or notice that he has once again chewed away part of his lip for no reason. All he is going to talk about today is Zelda, because that is all he has thought about for almost 2 weeks ("Aiden, I don't know if Link has a Grandpa, or if he lives at the Forsaken Fortress!") He is going to cry more, throw more tantrums, and need more attention than his one year old brother.

I keep thinking "Oh Lord! This child is going to Kindergarten in s few weeks!" I don't know what is going to happen.

We went to the doctor yesterday. I really knew what she was going to say before we went:

Asperger syndrome (pronounced /ˈasˌpərgɘr ˌsɪndrəʊm/ in the U.S., /ˈasˌpəːgɘ/ in Britain; also called Asperger's syndrome, Asperger's disorder, Asperger's or AS) is one of several autism spectrum disorders (ASD) characterized by difficulties in social interaction and by restricted, stereotyped patterns of behavior, interests and activities. AS is distinguished from the other ASDs in having no general delay in language or cognitive development. Although not mentioned in standard diagnostic criteria, motor clumsiness and atypical use of language are frequently reported.[1][2]
Asperger syndrome is named after Austrian pediatrician Hans Asperger who, in 1944, described children in his practice who lacked nonverbal communication skills, failed to demonstrate empathy with their peers, and were physically clumsy. Fifty years later, AS was standardized as a diagnosis, but questions about many aspects of AS remain.[3] For example, there is lingering doubt about the distinction between AS and high-functioning autism (HFA);[4] partly due to this, the prevalence of AS is not firmly established. The exact cause of AS is unknown, although research supports the likelihood of a genetic basis; brain imaging techniques have not identified a clear common pathology.[1]
There is no single treatment for Asperger syndrome, and the effectiveness of particular interventions is supported by only limited data. Intervention is aimed at improving symptoms and function. The mainstay of management is behavioral therapy, focusing on specific deficits to address poor communication skills, obsessive or repetitive routines, and clumsiness. Most individuals with AS can learn to cope with their differences, but may continue to need moral support and encouragement to maintain an independent life.[5] Researchers and people with AS have advocated a shift in attitudes away from the notion that AS is a deviation from the norm that must be treated or cured, and towards the view that AS is a difference rather than a disability. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asperger_syndrome

We are really in for it now. It took all the nurses and Bryan to hold him down for a blood draw. We are being sent for a formal diagnosis. I have lots of clinics and specialists to call today. We'll be on a waiting list I'm sure. More doctor bills. More trying to convince him to get in the truck to go to the appointments. DNA testing, neurological testing, and all kids of strange activities to test the motor skills.

I'm so tired. There are days when there is nothing left of me. He has taken it all. My love for him is so deep, and so painful. A struggle.

Now all of my children are a statistic. (Jack has a split xyphoid process, in case you were wondering, but it's really just creepy and not dangerous). What is this baby going to be like? A geneticsist probably would have told us never to have children (jerks!).

So, the formal diagnosis isn't in yet, but... either way... this is my kids I am talking about. Not somebody else's. He is so smart. He is very loving, he just wants attention all the time. He is... Aiden. He is my husband's heart. He is our hopes and dreams. He is our first love. He is the what made us a family for the first time. He was the superglue God put on my heart when Nolan died. He is the realization of my childhood dreams. He is there when I wake up everyday. He rides in the backseat of my truck everyday. I know him. He is not that child with aspergers, he's still just Aiden.