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Autism: A Springtime for Children
墨書 Inktalez
"I... I... I really can't take it anymore!" My husband covered his face and eyes, breaking down in tears. Our son was diagnosed with Autism, and he actually ran away, leaving me to face it alone! The misunderstandings and contempt from the world. The lack of ability to live independently in the future. The pain of being misunderstood and alone. I knew that the son he had always been proud of suddenly became someone who might rely on others for a lifetime, and his helplessness and despair were palpable. Because I felt the same way inside.
01
"Try hitting me again!" I shouted sternly at my son. The night deepened, and despite the bustling street filled with hurried pedestrians, some couldn't help but glance over. "You're already five years old, and your mom is hitting you; are you an animal?" Even though my voice was loud, Haohao seemed to ignore it completely, stubbornly raising his hand to hit me forcefully.
I grabbed his hand tightly; he struggled fiercely, and just as he pulled away, "smack," his hand landed on my face without hesitation. My anger surged to its peak as I pulled his hand back and struck his palm hard twice. My hand went numb with pain.
Despite crying out in shock and fear, he still refused to enter the hotel we were supposed to stay at tonight, even trying to find opportunities to hit me again. My husband Weicong and I tried to force him into the room, but he broke free and lay on the ground, rolling around and crying as usual.
We squatted beside him helplessly, allowing him to lie at the entrance where people came and went, waiting for him to tire himself out from his tantrum. The hotel lights cast a dim yellow glow on the marble floor, projecting our shadows—lonely and desolate. The night breeze carried a hint of chill, gently brushing against our faces but failing to disperse the heaviness in our hearts.
I stared blankly into the doctor's eyes; my mind was a void except for the words "Haohao has a typical Autism spectrum disorder." Weicong leaned numbly against the doctor's desk, tightly clutching the diagnosis paper in his hand.
We exchanged bewildered glances filled with disbelief and deep concern. A wave of despair wrapped around us tightly. What would happen to our son? He was so young, yet he had been labeled like this!
"Doctor, this... how is this possible?" My voice trembled as tears streamed down my face while I clutched Weicong's arm tightly.
Weicong struggled to contain his helplessness and asked in a hoarse voice, "Doctor, are you sure? Is there any possibility of misdiagnosis?"
The doctor sighed, "I wish it were a misdiagnosis, but based on the assessment results, Haohao's condition indeed matches the characteristics of Autism."
I turned to look at Weicong again; his face was pale, his brows furrowed, and his eyes filled with pain.
"What should we do?" I almost pleaded, hoping the doctor could provide us with an answer, a lifeline we could grasp.
Perhaps accustomed to parents like us, the doctor calmly and patiently explained the characteristics of Autism, the challenges we would face, and how to quickly initiate rehabilitation interventions.
Every word he spoke felt like a reminder of how difficult the road ahead would be.
I felt a wave of dizziness, as if the entire world were spinning.
My husband held my hand tightly; his palm was equally damp.
Back home, I curled up in the corner of the living room sofa, the doctor's words echoing in my ears.
"Haohao will face many challenges in the future. He may suffer many harms. He cannot express or communicate well, and he will be in pain himself."
The doctor's words pierced my heart like needles; it hurt!
The fabric of the sofa was soft yet cold as I clutched a cushion tightly.
"Haohao, Haohao..." I kept calling my son's name, reaching out several times in an attempt to hold him and hug him.
Despite my tears streaming down my face, he continued to run around me with a smile, completely ignoring me.
I collapsed on the floor and cried out loud while my son laughed and ran around, mumbling something to himself.
Our beloved son—how much loneliness lies hidden behind his innocent smile that we cannot reach?
"Honey," I whispered, hoping to find some comfort from him.
"What will his future be like?"
He remained silent for a long time before letting out a deep sigh.
"Xiao Min, I don't know. I think I'll take him to the Sixth Hospital again tomorrow..."
The night sky outside was dark and indifferent; stars hid behind thick clouds as if they were also escaping this cruel reality.
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by an inexplicable fear.
I feared that Haohao would not be able to integrate into society, that he would face rejection and discrimination. I feared that his smile would gradually fade away due to the world's indifference.
It was already late into the night!
Looking at my son's beautiful and peaceful sleeping face, I tossed and turned. Kneeling at the head of the bed, I prayed to all the gods and Buddhas, willing to trade my remaining lifespan for his health. There was no room for hope! A day later, Doctor Jia from the Sixth Hospital gave the same conclusion. We knew that from this moment on, our lives would be completely transformed.
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