When I held my two little bundles of joy in my arms as I was wheeled back from the operating room, I had no idea the future struggles that one of my sweet twins would have. Sure, struggles are a part of life.   But Asher’s struggles would prove to be almost overwhelming.

When Asher was an infant, he was a happy, content, and robust baby boy. He had some odd behaviors that were easily written off or were just laughed at.   He would hold out his hand in front of his face and stare at it. For a LONG time. He was fascinated with that hand! Later, he was enamored with his jumper. I’d put him in the stationary jumper and he’d jump, and jump, and jump…. Sometimes falling asleep and jumping in his sleep!

As he got older, it became more and more evident that something was “off” with Asher. I remember one night becoming so frustrated with my attempts to connect with him that I just snuck off to my bedroom and dissolved into tears. It was like there was this invisible wall that separated him from the rest of us.

In our family of 9, several children are on the autism spectrum, so it was definitely something we knew to look out for, and at about 15 months we were starting to seriously question if Asher might have autism. We finally got around to actually doing something about it, called around, and finally at 20 months had him tested at Birth to Three. I thought perhaps he was slightly delayed, but in fact, he was fairly significantly delayed. He started therapies shortly after -- speech, OT, and he had a teacher that came to our home as well. He started out completely nonverbal and made steady progress at Birth to Three. When he reached his third birthday, he was just starting to say a few words and just starting the process of joint communication.

When he “aged out” of Birth to Three, we saw a dramatic regression. He lost almost all of his words and stopped playing well. He’d built up to about 10 minutes of steady play, but as his therapies ended, so did his progress. The regression came as a surprise. We were definitely not prepared for that.

The following September he was slated to start preschool. He began preschool at just barely 3, and did fairly well, though he was having various conflicts. The bus driver would not allow him to bring one of his beloved cars/trucks/trains along on the bus, and every day saw a giant meltdown. Eventually he started hiding when it was time for school. He’d run to his room and bury himself under the covers. He’d scream and cry when we took him to the bus.

Eventually we pulled him out of school. He continued to have difficulty communicating and playing. By the following year, we’d still opted to keep him at home, but by November had reached the point where we really needed him to be in school. One-on-one care, the kind Asher required, was becoming very difficult to provide, even with his older siblings chipping in. There were serious aggression issues and we were all becoming drained, physically and emotionally. In addition to school, we started a new medication with him, which helped so much. It basically worked to calm his nervous system, letting the real Asher shine through.

Asher is now in his fourth month of school and is doing so much better. Looking back on his short four years, Asher has overcome being nonverbal. He now speaks -- often in short sentences. We once feared that he’d always be nonverbal, that he’d never be independent, but now, we have hope. Now Asher is better able to regulate himself. He has so much hard work ahead of him, but I finally feel like my baby is coming out of the shell that’s held him hostage for far too long.