To the Editor:

I am raising a child with autism and am writing because April is Autism Awareness month, I submit the below article.

When I first noticed something clearly wasn't right with my son’s development, I had him evaluated. He was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder. I was told that he would probably never learn to talk.

Of course, when I first heard this, I was devastated; there wasn't really a lot of "autism awareness" back then. I didn't know quite how to handle all of this; I just knew I was going to do whatever I had to do to help him.

I enrolled him in an early intervention program. Going into this program, he was unable to communicate at all; he just didn't talk.

When he first started his program, they began teaching him sign language to communicate — so I went out and bought a book on sign language so I could communicate with my son. They then started using picture cards, so I started using picture cards.

Whatever they did at school, I did at home — I wanted to keep it consistent. It was so difficult doing this all by myself — I had no help; I never got a break.

I'd take him to the store to get groceries and he would drop to the floor and have a meltdown. People would stare at me like I was the worst parent in the world — like I didn't know how to control my son. I was frustrated that they just made that assumption without even knowing him, or me.

Prior to his entering kindergarten, he was re-evaluated by a specialist and was diagnosed with severe to moderate autism. This scared me to death; I didn't know how I was going to handle all of this on my own.

Shortly after that, I was in a bookstore and I saw a book by Montel Williams called "Climbing Higher" — something told me to buy it. If you've ever read this book, you know it's basically about his battle with multiple sclerosis. I don't know what kept nudging at me to buy this book, just this feeling deep inside my gut saying, "Buy it,” so I did.

I am by no means an avid reader, but I will say that, once I started reading this book, I couldn't put it down. I read it in three days. This book changed my entire outlook on life and how to handle being the single mom of a child with autism.

Even though this book was about Montel's battle with MS, it was like I could take everything he was saying in that book and relate it to my own situation. It's like this feeling came over me, saying, "You know what, you can either take being the single mother of a child with autism and let it define you, or you let it strengthen you.”

That is exactly what I did. I remember one specific part of Montel's book that really touched me. After he was diagnosed with MS and had to finally tell his family, he had to explain MS to his 5-year-old son.

He took a lamp cord and cut it and showed it to his son and said, "Inside everyone's body are nerves. Along with your blood and muscles, your nerves are what make you move, like this wire makes the lamp work. And every nerve has this stuff around it, a plastic coating that protects the nerve. If you scrape off a piece of this coating, in two or three days the wire is going to start to rust, and the light may not work when you turn it on. MS is hurting the stuff around my nerves, which is making them kind of rusty and stopping them from working right.”

I read that and thought, "Wow, what an absolutely brilliant way to explain MS to a child — in terms he could understand.” I realized this is what I had to do with my life — I had to learn to see things from my son’s perspective.

I also "toughened up" when it came to my son's public meltdowns and the "glares" I got. I think I remember saying a few times, "He has autism; what's your excuse?"

I knew what an amazing little boy I had, and, if others couldn't see that, it was their problem and not mine.

I cannot tell you how much he has changed my life. He taught me to take a different approach to parenting, he taught me the meaning of true unconditional love, and he taught me to view the world through his eyes — it's such an amazing and beautiful view.

He is one of the most kindhearted, selfless, loving, amazing people I know. I realized that what had transpired is a mother-son bond that no one could break — and he realized that, no matter what, he could always count on me, that I will always be here for him.

I accept him for who he is, not for who I want him to be, or what I dreamed he would be (prior to his being born). I realized that he is truly a gift from God and I began to see him the way God saw him — an amazing little boy (now turned "young adult") with a heart of gold.

Someone once asked me if I ever wished things were different — if I ever wished that he didn't have autism. Honestly, no, I don't.

Autism is a part of who he is, and I can't imagine him without it. I consider myself lucky to have the great honor of being his mother, he is truly an angel who walked into my life and made it better, just by being himself.

I am so proud of how far he has come. He went from being a 4-year-old that could only communicate through sign language to a 14-year-old young man at the top of his class, who just got moved up to an advanced math class. It took a lot of hard work to get there, but he did it.

When I hear teachers say what a remarkable young man he is, how they wish they could "clone him,” I know I've done my job. I've always believed in him, and I always will.

I taught him to dream big. I taught him to never let anyone tell him he can't do something just because he has autism — if he can dream it, he can be it. Autism isn't contagious — ignorance is.

I can only hope that this story will help someone going through something similar, or that it will make people stop and think and not be so quick to judge. And if they want to judge — well that's OK too, because it is clearly their loss and not mine.

I'm the lucky one who gets to raise this gift from God, this truly amazing young man that will be a part of my life forever. I used to pray for some "miracle cure" for autism, but then I realized I already had a miracle — my son.

Stephanie Carter

Altamont