Learning to Breathe

Our family’s journey with autism, and my son’s remarkable becoming!

Video of Zackary’s speech at the end.

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Before age one, our son, Zackary, laid the alphabet in perfect order. By two, he named all the military planes. He could explain how oxygen moves through the body, but couldn’t tell us when he was in pain, afraid, or unheard.

Our family’s journey with autism hasn’t been easy.

Moments after birth, I knew something was different about Zackary. There was no regression. He simply was. Brilliant and already living in a world slightly out of sync with ours.

At three, AI DuPont Children’s Hospital evaluated Zackary. The doctor was ready to dismiss concerns, until I asked Zackary how we breathe. He responded with his detailed explanation of alveoli transferring oxygen into the bloodstream. The doctor picked his clipboard back up (in the days of clipboards), and the conversation changed.

We were the squeaky and annoying wheel. After calling the director of Special Education every day for two months, by second grade, DAP began in our school. The Delaware Autism Program also brought Ms. F into our lives. She walked with use through the rest of his entire years of school - in state and residential. Without her and the Special Ed director of the school, our journey would not have been possible <3

By two, Zackary also banged his forehead on the ground when things didn’t go “right.” A tower of blocks falling could mean a bruised forehead. He could spell and label, but he could not communicate. When he wasn’t heard, frustration turned physical. Violence followed confusion.

A good para can make ALL the difference. Ms. M was Zackary’s para in second grade. She was like his substitute mom, and I didn’t have to worry throughout the day what the day might bring. Those individuals who come alongside and see our children and love on them are priceless!

His first inpatient hospitalization came at nine. By fifteen, he was no longer safe at home.

The hardest thing I have ever done was sending my son—who could not tell me what was happening—to a residential facility from Delaware to Texas. One phone call a week. One visit a month. (Faith was no longer abstract.)

Zackary and me <3

There, a world-esteemed doctor discovered frontal lobe dysrhythmia interacting with his SSRIs. Thought became action before impulse could be stopped. Medication changes followed. Slowly, Zackary began to speak, not just words, but his truth. What had happened to him. What he felt. What he carried.

So much trauma.

Three intense years in residential care followed, but this is Zackary’s story. Those who know him now cannot imagine the earlier years. Today, Zackary is an educator. In his vulnerability, he gives others language for hope. Proof they are not alone.

Below is the video from his speech at Delaware’s LIFE Conference yesterday. We’re so proud of him!