My story begins when my son was around one year old. This was my first child so all the things about a baby were new to me.  I knew that I had done everything in my power while I was pregnant to make sure my baby had the best chance of being a healthy baby.  He had some problems after birth. He was jaundiced and we he was one month old we found out that he had something called Pyloricstinosis. After we had gotten through those hurdles with my son I thought everything was fine. He may have been a little slower than other children but normal. When he was about 1 ½ years old I noticed that he wasn’t saying words, he was still babbling. I took notice that other kids his age were speaking at least 2 words and could ask for simple things like a cup, bottle, toy or go outside. This made me really nervous and I knew that he needed to be saying at least one word.  Everyone kept telling me that I should just give him more time and he would start talking. I knew in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong.  I decided to wait till he turned two and if he didn’t start saying something or forming some kind of words then I would take him to his pediatrician.  So when he turned two I knew something was very wrong so I made an appointment the very next day. We went to the doctor where after close examination of my baby and me telling them my fears the doctors told me that my son might have something called Autism. I immediately broke down and cried.  I didn’t know what autism was but if it stopped my son from speaking I knew it had to be bad. After I got my composure they told me that I would need to get further test done to confirm the diagnosis. They sent us to a place I’d never heard of before called the Children’s Developmental Services Agency (CDSA). There was a doctor, a psychologist, a social worker and a room full of other people and I was in a state of absolute panic. I wanted answers; I wanted to know what was wrong with my son. They sat me down and explained to me the test they would be doing, why they would be doing them, how they would be doing them and how each person in the room would play their very own part in his diagnosis. We went through about 3 weeks of my son walking up and down stairs, sitting still in a chair, reacting to toys, being placed in a room by himself, and hearing test. I wanted to scream and tell everybody to just stop and let me take him home but in my heart, even though I was scared I wanted to know what was holding my son back. At the end of all this testing they called me in this big room, I’ll never forget it. When I came in and saw the tissue box on the table I started crying. They told me that my son had Autism.  I thought I would lose it. In my mind I’m thinking I did everything in my power to be a good mother while I was pregnant. I didn’t drink or smoke.  I drank my milk; I exercised and read to my belly so why was I being punished.  I heard very little of what they said that day. I wanted my child to be as normal and grow up with all the chances to be all he could be and someone was telling me that my son would be behind, that he may never communicate. You have no idea what that does to your heart and your soul. There I was a single mom with just the support of my mother hearing this devastating news.  I know for about 3 months that all I did was cry, every time he would babble or make sounds I would go all to pieces. I would think to myself would I ever hear him say mommy or I love you? I started getting information about Autism, books, looking things up on the internet. A speech therapist began to come and work with him twice a week and I got her to show me things I could work on with him. I had already signed him up for pre-k but I was going to do everything in my power to get him ready. I was trying to do everything I could do to help my son. He could walk and do for himself and he didn’t hit or bite himself so I needed to be thankful for the things that he could do and stop dwelling on what he couldn’t do. It’s been 3 years since he was diagnosed. I’ve learned a lot since then with the encouragement of others. To make a long story short I started working with him each and everyday. He started pre-k when he turned 3 and he knew only 10 words but when he graduated at the age of 5 he knew over 30 words which to me was wonderful. My son is now 6 years old in kindergarten were he is thriving in everything. He says words, he can form small sentences and the best thing is he can say, “Mommy I Love You!!!”  He knows his shapes and colors; he can tie his shoes, he can even make his bed.  With hard work and the help and support of his teachers, workers, friends and family my son will be just fine. I know first hand that hearing that your child has any kind of disability is devastating and you go through the denial stage and the “what have I done” stage. One thing that I learned is everything happens for a reason and they are still children. They still need love and support; you were dealt this hand for a reason. It’s hard but God doesn’t make mistakes when he makes children. And without a doubt Jarrell is my blessing.