June 26th, 2001. I gave birth to our beautiful baby girl with a mob of black hair. She looked like a little dolly. How we felll in love with this tiny sweetheart. Amy was born in an English hospital, (we lived in the UK at the time) after quite an easy delivery, as far as easy deliviries go. She was the icing on the cake, the completion of our family, consisting of us, her parents and two lovely boys.
Amy was a bit of a restless baby at first. She did not really settle well at night, unless she could sleep on my tummy. But affter 6 weeks of persevering she slept in a cot next to my bed. She actally started to sleep an awful lot, but only at home, in her bed. Not in a pram or the car.
Whenever we put her in either the pram or the car, she cried. A lot! We had one of those jogger push chairs with Amy facin the world, rather than me. A supermarket trolley was also a recipe for disaster. It seemed to be THE place to excercise her lungs. But as soon as she was home, this little red faced bundle of fury turned into the sweetest baby in the world. She drank her milk, had a cuddle and went to sleep. And that more or less summed up the level of activity for her first year.
When Amy was about three months old, and she entered the fase of facial recognition, things started to go wrong. Nobody outside her own family, could hold her. She screamed whenever somebody else wanted to give her a cuddle. We did not think much of it. What can you do? We just avoided her handing her to others as much as possible.
Otherwise, her early development was more or less textbook perfect. She was extremely eloquent for such a little girl, but then again, her brother was also a very intelligent boy. Amy could repeat difficult words easily, and use them in the proper context. She was very good in letting us know her likes and dislikes. Especially at dinner times, when her dislikes contained just about everything we tried to give her. Such a fussy eater! Ah well...the boys had known fussy times as well...things usually tend to work themselves out!
Whenever she was playing Amy had incredible focus. Almost, as if she was in a world of her own. She liked her toys to be just so, otherwise all hell would break loose. But other than that she could play for hours, quite happily. One of her games was to have one shoe on her hand and one on her foot. Both shoes on her feet took some doing. And preferably everybody had to follow her shoe fashion! Also, she was fascinated by socks. anyone who entered our house had to remove their shoes so she could admire their socks. Each to his own! This was one of Amy's things and we accepted it. Actually though it quite funny.
In the structure of our day to day life, Amy was a very happy child. During the week, our lives revolved around the boys' school hours, and that worked well. But, come the weekends, when we would try to go out as a family, or the boys would have a party to join in one of those indoor play areas, Amy became very fussy and clingy. We worked around that. One of us would ferry the boys to wherever they needed to be, the other one would stay with Amy, at home. Not a problem. She really was a joy to be with....at home.
In the structure of our day to day life, Amy was a very happy child. During the week, our lives revolved around the boys' school hours, and that worked well. But, come the weekends, when we would try to go out as a family, or the boys would have a party to join in one of those indoor play areas, Amy became very fussy and clingy. We worked around that. One of us would ferry the boys to wherever they needed to be, the other one would stay with Amy, at home. Not a problem. She really was a joy to be with....at home.
Amy started walking around 13 months. But this clever little thing quickly cottoned on that if she let go of mummy's hand, she would fall on her bottom. And that, she did not like! She sorted this out herself. Not one foot was put in front of the other, without holding a hand. Smart girl!
It took months before she walked on her own.
When she was two she went to a Montessori pre school, rather than a play group. Since she liked structure so much, we though this was better for her. This was the start of 12 months of misery. She never settled in class, cried whenever I left her, made no friends. She was an axious little girl in school, the opposite of the sweetie we knew at home.
At 3 1/2 she started nursery. The boys attended the same school. Things went a little bit better here, or so we thought. During a parent teacher consulation, I was told by the nursery nurse that Amy was very persistent in what she wanted to do. She did not like playing with otther children, she actually told them to go away! Also, her hearing was cause for concern. She did not seem to respond at times, away in a world of her own....
It took months before she walked on her own.
When she was two she went to a Montessori pre school, rather than a play group. Since she liked structure so much, we though this was better for her. This was the start of 12 months of misery. She never settled in class, cried whenever I left her, made no friends. She was an axious little girl in school, the opposite of the sweetie we knew at home.
At 3 1/2 she started nursery. The boys attended the same school. Things went a little bit better here, or so we thought. During a parent teacher consulation, I was told by the nursery nurse that Amy was very persistent in what she wanted to do. She did not like playing with otther children, she actually told them to go away! Also, her hearing was cause for concern. She did not seem to respond at times, away in a world of her own....
We had her hearing tested and her many ear infections as a baby did indeed seem to have effected her hearing. Tubes were inserted, things should be starting to get better.
She went on to Reception. Again, her teachers were concerned. Amy did not make friends easily. The mornings, in which they had structured lessons, were better than the afternoons, when the children were allowed to play.
She loved the lessons. She learned how to do maths, write and read at the speed of light. But that playtime...
One afternoon I had a phone call from her teacher. Amy had lashed out in anger and scratched a girl's neck open. Badly!
I was shocked at this level of aggression. We apologised to the girl and parent, but the incident stayed with me.
During a parent teacher consultation more concerns were raised. Amy seemd so tired all the time. Amy still did not seem to hear everything that was said to her. Group instruction did not go well. Were we sure her hearing was fine?
More tests ensued, her hearing was fine. Perhaps she had to re-learn to process information, after not being able to hear properly for such a long time? Just be patient!
By then we had decided to move back to the Netherlands. We sold up, bought a house across the pond, enrolled Amy and her brother at a local Dalton primary school and started a new life.
By then we had decided to move back to the Netherlands. We sold up, bought a house across the pond, enrolled Amy and her brother at a local Dalton primary school and started a new life.
Things then took a turn for the worse!
Our eldest settled in quickly. He thrived in the more flexible culture of the Dutch secondary school he went to.
But in our little town, where everybody knew everybody, Amy and her brother had a hard time settling into the new school. Things did not go very smooth for either one.
Our son hated his new class. They thought he was weird because of his English background, whilst Amy's teachers again expressed concern about Amy's inability to make friends and her lack of hearing.
Amy was tested for an auditory processing disorder. Her hearing was fine after three sets of tubes, but somehow the information did not get processed quickly enough. But the test did not show anything too out of the order except Amy not being able to sit still and her poor concentration.
A speech therapist got involved, to see if the switch from English to Dutch had had an influence in Amy adapting to her new environment. We struck out again. Amy's score was exceptionally high.
In the mean time we had enrolled our son in a confidence building class. During a parent session we were explained what set of problems each child in the group was encountering. One of the girls in the group had recently been diagnosed with ADD. We had no idea what that was. When it was explained to us, we felt the rug was being pulled from underneath us. This sounded very much like our daughter!
That sweet girl had gone and instead was now a vvery sad, very depressed lonely child who screamed and slammed doors.
We decided to have Amy thoroughly tested. We had a very good feeling about the practice we chose. We got reassurance that they were not really into sticking labes on kids, unless it could not be avoided. But we would get a handle on the situation. We'd be able to help our child.
We were called in for the results about a month later. We were sat in this little conference room. The psychologist came in and smiled at us. I felt sick!
'Amy is real sweetie', she started. I thought I was physically going to be sick. I did not like how this started. It sounded like she was cushioning a blow. 'But.....'. And here it was. The verdict that would change our lives forever. 'Amy has an autistic disorder. It is called Asperger's. She also has ADHD related behaviour.'
'You mean, she has certain traits of this disorder?', I asked hopefully, thinking of the 'not sticking labels'. She gently shook her head. 'No, she has ticked all the boxes. Your child has an autistic disorder'.
Our daughter would from now on be labelled. She's an Aspie.
But in our little town, where everybody knew everybody, Amy and her brother had a hard time settling into the new school. Things did not go very smooth for either one.
Our son hated his new class. They thought he was weird because of his English background, whilst Amy's teachers again expressed concern about Amy's inability to make friends and her lack of hearing.
Amy was tested for an auditory processing disorder. Her hearing was fine after three sets of tubes, but somehow the information did not get processed quickly enough. But the test did not show anything too out of the order except Amy not being able to sit still and her poor concentration.
A speech therapist got involved, to see if the switch from English to Dutch had had an influence in Amy adapting to her new environment. We struck out again. Amy's score was exceptionally high.
In the mean time we had enrolled our son in a confidence building class. During a parent session we were explained what set of problems each child in the group was encountering. One of the girls in the group had recently been diagnosed with ADD. We had no idea what that was. When it was explained to us, we felt the rug was being pulled from underneath us. This sounded very much like our daughter!
That sweet girl had gone and instead was now a vvery sad, very depressed lonely child who screamed and slammed doors.
We decided to have Amy thoroughly tested. We had a very good feeling about the practice we chose. We got reassurance that they were not really into sticking labes on kids, unless it could not be avoided. But we would get a handle on the situation. We'd be able to help our child.
We were called in for the results about a month later. We were sat in this little conference room. The psychologist came in and smiled at us. I felt sick!
'Amy is real sweetie', she started. I thought I was physically going to be sick. I did not like how this started. It sounded like she was cushioning a blow. 'But.....'. And here it was. The verdict that would change our lives forever. 'Amy has an autistic disorder. It is called Asperger's. She also has ADHD related behaviour.'
'You mean, she has certain traits of this disorder?', I asked hopefully, thinking of the 'not sticking labels'. She gently shook her head. 'No, she has ticked all the boxes. Your child has an autistic disorder'.
Our daughter would from now on be labelled. She's an Aspie.
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