Today I took Mira to her first Mommy & Me class. One of Aaron’s relatives runs the class, and even though Mira was a little young for this group, we were certain she could keep up with the other kids. Mira was a little confused by what was going on, but she enjoyed herself and I think each week she’ll get more comfortable and play along.
Mira is now 15 months old (I know – where has the time gone?) and I can’t help but compare her to Cordy at that age. Mira has been walking since before her first birthday, and is currently working on building up speed to run. She still won’t say a word, or at least a word we can comprehend, but she has a sharp mind that follows everything we say. She’ll nod her head yes or no to any of our questions, and finds other ways to make her thoughts known. She’s smart, stubborn, very independent, and loves to see new people.
The only thing she has in common with Cordy at that age is the last sentence. Cordy didn’t take her first independent steps until she was 15 months, and she was talking up a storm by this point, with a vocabulary of several words and the ability to count to 5. But she was social. She loved to be out in public, just like Mira.
And then between 15-18 months, something changed in Cordy. Her social nature turned inward, with only those who saw her regularly getting any kind of notice. She wasn’t scared of anyone, but she didn’t care to interact with anyone, either. Eye contact was minimal. Where she used to notice other kids, she now looked right through them most of the time. Tantrums escalated over the slightest thing, which we dismissed as nothing more than normal toddler tantrums. While she could walk, her fine motor coordination was poor. She didn’t get into things like most kids – she was content to sit and examine the toys in front of her.
Play became more linear, either focused on counting items, lining them up, or stacking them. There was little imaginative play. Her vocabulary increased, but I noticed the sentences that formed were just repeats of things she had heard on TV or from me. More often than not, when she talked without repeating something, it was gibberish. She didn’t like to be touched on her head or feet, and couldn’t stand the feel of anything gooey, like liquid soap or applesauce. Other kids played with their food – she wouldn’t touch anything of the semi-solid variety. She started to develop repetitive motions, like pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
It was the beginning of Cordy’s slide away from many of her developmental milestones and towards the autism spectrum. Looking back over many of my blog posts from that time period, I can see the beginnings of problems, but the clues were so small back then it’s easy to see how I missed them. And much of that period I didn’t share on my blog, too, because I didn’t want people to think she was a demon child. (I’ve since realized that it’s common to think of an 18 month old as a demon child. Who knew?)
So having gone through all of that, it’s no surprise that I look at Mira – my social, curious baby – and realize she’s now the same age Cordy was when it all started to change. And realizing that paralyzes me with fear. Will this outgoing personality fall away from me to be replaced with a far-off stare and lack of interest in those around her?
It’s not pleasant to think about, but I have to prepare myself for the possibility. There is a 1 in 5 chance of a sibling being on the spectrum if one child already has ASD. And there is nothing I can do to stop it if it happens. There were things I changed this time, like organic baby foods and a delayed vaccination schedule, but there’s no promise they’ll help.
This has been bothering me for several months now, actually. I’m not letting myself get worked into a panic about it, because that’s silly when there has been nothing yet to suggest signs of autism in Mira. But that nagging worry has persisted in the back of my mind. Is her lack of words a sign? Should I be concerned that her head size is off the charts, too? These next three months I’m on high alert for any changes to her behavior that could indicate a problem.
I’ll be honest: I don’t want another child on the spectrum. I’d rather spare Mira from the additional hurdles she’d face with autism. But I wouldn’t love her any less. If she did end up on the spectrum, I’d do the same thing I did with Cordy, and start the fight to get her all of the services she needs to be successful. Even with the extra work, we’re lucky that Cordy is high-functioning, and over the past year Cordy has made amazing progress (more on that to come) an accomplishment I credit to all of the hard work put in by her teachers, her therapists, and us.
So for now I watch and wait, hoping my second feisty, stubborn and oh-so-smart girl remains the social butterfly of the toddler scene.
With autism in the news so much lately, it’s something we all worry about. My baby is 14 months & the tantrums have started. A simple diaper change can cause a screaming fit. Is this normal for her or a sign of a problem? She isn’t speaking yet – doesn’t even nod or shake her head. It’s very frustrating that we just have to wait and see, and I just keep telling myself not to worry about it until I have a reason to.
Lisa
Hi Lisa. I’m not a medical professional (at least not yet), but what you’ve described here sounds like pretty typical behavior at 14 months. Some kids are late talkers, too, like Mira. I know other kids who were late talkers but developed typically.
Most pediatricians are now screening for autism at 18 or 24 months, so if you’re worried bring it up at your next well-baby check.
Also, Autism Speaks has a great video glossary showing the differences between neuro-typical kids and those on the spectrum at various ages.
It is so hard not to worry about Mira given what you have been through. I would be cautious too. You can’t help but compare children. It’s difficult to have to watch and wait when it comes to your children. You have 2 beautiful daughters and your love for them shows.
I cried. You are such an amazing Mother. Your children are so very very (VERY!) lucky to have you as their Mom.
I really appreciate this post, because I bet it is something that so many people think about but are afraid to write or talk about.
I think you’re being very proactive, just in case. As much as we try to deny and put things out of our minds, that nagging feeling is there.
I think your strength, and your dedication to your daughters’ well-being is amazing.
And, the way you reach out to your readers (those who’ve experienced the same things as well as those who are getting more educated about ASD) is commendable.
I totally understand your worry. With a number of issues that run in the family, including major mental illness, and people who would have been on the spectrum had it existed, I feel like I am on constant alert. I don’t think that worry thing ever stops.
Christina,
I hurt for your fear, that nagging paranoia of wondering if this is different from yesterday, is it different from what she did a week ago. I can’t imagine watching and waiting to see if something is going to go wrong. At least with our diagnosis, we knew chances of siblings getting cancer was very rare. {{HUGS}} to you through your worries and anxieties, and praying that M is going to continue to be the social queen.
I want to thank you for posting this. I am always comparing my children, with them only 14 months apart, it’s easy to remember things. By 1, my daughter was talking like crazy. She would even babble sentences peppered with words. My son, on the other hand, will be 1 on Friday and hasn’t said a word. Of course he says dada, but that’s it. I’m so comforted to know that I’m not a lone in this situation. I know my son is very smart, just not an early talker.
Tatum doesnt talk either … 15 months old and all she will say is NO and Dada … but like Mira she understands and will go get just about ANYTHING that we say … Good luck i will be praying for your little one while i know you would love her NO less it would still hurt!!!
Honey, I can’t imagine the stress you must feel about this. Knowing how hard you’ve had it with Cordy, and how hard Cordy’s had it herself, of course you pray that Mira will be spared. Hang in there…
I think we’ve all had that worry, for various reasons, so you putting it out there, particularly in this instance, has certainly touched me, but I’m betting so many others.
Here’s hoping she gives you something else to worry about and not this. I always figure, I’m going to worry about something — that’s the predictability of motherhood, but may it be the weird nail on her little toe, right?