It has been 4 years. Four years since I sat in a room with a developmental pediatrician for hours talking about my son, showing videos, answering questions, managing his anxiety as I could tell he wanted to leave the room. I sat there praying we were wrong. Praying she would look at us and say, "it's not autism." But instead, she smiled... and told us our son was autistic. I smiled back. With a shaking hand I took her diagnosis letter, picked up my 2-year-old son, and left the office.
