Münchausen, anyone?

Yesterday morning I was told something most any parent would dread hearing ("most" being a scientific number that could be determined through accepted polling measures, although I can't imagine who would conduct such a poll).

Your daughter exhibits signs of mild to moderate autism spectrum disorder.

I wanted to cry out, "Hallelujah!"  Seriously.  I had to stop myself from fist pumping the air and cheering.  Finally!  An important person with a title, several acronyms after his name, multiple degrees from prestigious universities on his office walls, and a 20+ page report of testing results in his hand, gave me the confirmation and validation I had been seeking for over two years.  

Two years, people! I felt like I could finally sleep peacefully.  What?  Is 9:40 am not an acceptable and appropriate nap time?  Maybe about as appropriate and acceptable as responding with, "Hell yes!" when told your child most likely has Asperger's?

Why on earth would any non-insane, non-Münchausen by proxy mother WANT her child to be diagnosed anywhere on the autism spectrum?  I'm so glad you asked.  

My crow is in first grade.  Shortly after starting pre-K, she began changing.  Regressing.  She began flapping her arms, having difficulty forming and completing sentences, having difficulty socializing with peers, just to name a few symptoms.  She also clearly had ADHD.  Once her learning began to regress, I finally found the courage to have her tested.  Unsurprisingly, she was given a provisional diagnosis of ADHD (provisional because she was four years old).  With not nearly as much trepidation as I would have preferred to have, we began a medication regimen.  

A year and several horrible trials later, we found a medication that helped her ADHD enough for her to function at school.  And by function, I mean, when she was unmedicated, my darling crow would act like a dog or a cat at school, depending on her whim.  As in barking or meowing, crawling, wagging her tail, licking people, and picking her pencil up in her mouth. God bless her pediatrician.  She has been wonderful, even after experiencing Kitty Crow in her exam room. She has gone so far as to give me her personal cell phone number after making a med change on a Friday afternoon, so that I could call her if there were any serious issues.  While she was going to be in Utah skiing with her family.  Love her!

Moving along...the medication helped the ADHD, but not the OCD, the nervous tics, the inability to make eye contact, the continually regressing social skills, the anxiety and depression, and all the other things that are Just. Not. Normal.

Kindergarten was torture, for both of us.  At the start of this summer, I took my crow to an autism screening.  The team did an at-risk assessment with her.  I gave her her ADHD medication prior to the screening because, well, she needs it immediately when she wakes up in the morning.  She scored 13 out of 15 points, so they ruled her as not at risk.  Oh sure.  Do they live with her? 

Finally, I did what I knew needed to be done and begged to have another full psychological evaluation performed.  I called her lovely kindergarten teacher, during her summer break, and asked her to pretty please complete three really long and tedious evaluation forms on her own time to give to the psychologist.  I aired all the dirty laundry I could think of during the pre-assessment appointment, making sure to paint as bleak (and yet, completely truthful) a picture as possible.  All, I assure you, in the name of finally getting some answers.

And now I have the answer I've known all along.  Little crow is somewhere on the autism spectrum.  No duh.  

Now what?