I’m So Sorry

I was in denial in the beginning of my autism journey. Not my son. He’s fine.

My wife Kristen knew something was off though. As time went on my denial became a hard reality.

Our son Cameron was diagnosed with Autism at two years old. He is nonverbal. It was a tough pill to swallow.

All my life I felt as if I was destined to be a dad.

There was something underlying involved. The idea followed me throughout my life.

The reason was because god equipped me with everything I needed to conquer autism and take care of my children. I accepted Autism into my world.

Part of full acceptance was sharing Cameron and his autism with everyone.

The most shocking part about telling people was most of there responses.

‘I’m really sorry.’

I could not understand what people were sorry about or for. After many I’m sorry’s, I decided to tell people that there was nothing to be sorry for.

Autism is not a death sentence. It’s a thing.

Instead of getting upset I would explain how special Cameron was like all children. Cameron was our rainbow baby.

We had suffered a miscarriage that was devastating. We prayed for Cameron. Our prayers were answered.

He was like a typically developing baby in the beginning. Slowly but surely his autism started to unravel.

I often found myself yearning to be part of his world. He laughed and smiled so much. My wife Kristen is his person. He adores her.

I was often jealous about how he let her in right away. I knew because she was his mommy that he would feel safest with her.

Through my early frustrations about why he didn’t come to me, look at me a lot, or kiss me I became focused on just being his dad.

I wanted to be the best version of myself for him. He might not know it but he made me the best version of myself.

Through determination on my end Cameron decided to slowly but surely let me into his world. I’m not going to paint a fake picture. There are many, and I mean many moments that are gut wrenching.

There are such sad times with autism. There are moments where I will wonder why. Why my child. He or she didn’t deserve this.

If not very careful and cautious one could fall into a depression. We simply cannot do this. We can’t fall.

There are moments that I can’t explain.

The happiness that fills my being is uncontrollable. When Cameron first kissed me on his own it was if I had reached the highest mountain top.

He said dada and I was overjoyed even though he eventually lost it. I continue to tell people this is not about me.

This is about Cameron. He’s autistic and he’s wonderful.

We, as a whole, cannot give up.

We will fight Autism and help our children till we can’t anymore.

We need to continue to tell stories to each other. Although it is extremely tough sharing triumphs and even let downs, the stories can help ourselves and others.

More people instead of sharing can offer a helping hand.

I feel that if more people accepted autism and possibly asked about it, the I’m sorry’s would turn into you are blessed along with other positive comments.

Cameron is now three and is in a special preschool called NIS. He started with in home ABA Therapy right after his diagnosis.

He made leaps and bounds with the in home and now in his school. He does not speak. He is however doing a lot of babbling and dada has made a return!

He communicates with a book and pictures that he takes off of the Velcro known as the pecs system. His eye contact went from very minimal to so so much. He takes our hands and brings us to his pecs book.

He does so much climbing and jumping now. He stims often through flapping and stacking but we have an amazing team of people helping us help him.

I share all of this because I want others to know that there is hope for children with autism. There need not be I’m sorry’s .

Autism is only a death sentence if people make it one. All children are a blessing.

Autism changed my life for the best. Top to bottom.

Written by, Michael Savino

My name is Michael Savino and I am a proud autism dad to two of my sons, Cameron and Cai.  I also have older son Cayden whom is typically developing.

Interested in writing for Finding Cooper’s Voice? LEARN MORE

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook and subscribe to our newsletter.