Part 1: Embracing the Unexpected – A Family’s Journey with Autism

Embracing the Unexpected: A Family’s Journey with Autism

Part 1:  The Unexpected Journey — Our Autism Diagnosis Story

We never imagined that the word autism would become part of our family’s everyday vocabulary.

Like many parents, we assumed some delays were just that—delays. Nothing more. But Joel’s 18-month checkup was the first nudge that something might be different.

Our pediatrician’s concerned expression over something as small as Joel not being able to point stirred a fear in me I couldn’t shake. While I laughed it off in the moment—“He’s just a baby!”—her look of pity haunted me.

As the months went on, Joel’s unique behaviors—lining up toys instead of playing with them, his intense love for numbers and music, the lack of eye contact and affection—all began painting a picture I couldn’t ignore.

Google became my late-night companion. “Early signs of autism” filled my search bar more times than I can count. But I wasn’t ready to know. I remember telling a friend, “I think there’s a chance Joel has autism… but I’m not ready to find out yet.”

The official diagnosis didn’t come quickly—it was months of evaluations, worry, and emotional whiplash. Some days I was convinced it was all a misunderstanding. Other nights I felt crushed under the weight of not knowing. And as we inched closer to a diagnosis, the reality started to settle in.

Grief came in waves.

I grieved the idea of Joel calling me “Mama,” of him running into my arms, of hearing his voice one day filled with stories, questions, and jokes. I questioned everything about the future: Will he be able to go to college? Get married? Live independently? Speak? But deeper still were the fears I couldn’t even articulate out loud: Will we truly connect? Will he know we love him? Will he be okay without us someday? Will he know and experience a relationship with God?

There were days I couldn’t even look at Joel without breaking down. I wasn’t just grieving a moment—I was mourning a whole life of unmet expectations and fragile hopes.

Then, my aunt—who also has a son with autism and has walked this path decades before me—offered words that changed everything. She said, “You’re grieving, I get it. But the sooner you take action, the better it’ll be for Joel. Early intervention is everything.”

Her wisdom became a turning point. I began shifting from panic to purpose.

Even still, it was a long journey toward acceptance. For a time, I clung to hope that maybe this wasn’t permanent. Maybe genetic testing would reveal something curable. But slowly, painfully, I realized—autism wasn’t something to fix. It was something to understand. And that shift in perspective made room for clarity, connection… and eventually, even joy.

So much so that the day Joel was officially diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder Level 3—we celebrated. Not because autism is easy or light, but because we finally had words for what we’d been feeling. We had a path forward, and we had a new community ready to welcome us.

Our life has taken a significant and unexpected turn. One that is still grief-worthy, yes—but also full of beauty. Life looks different now. It’s slower. We say ‘no’ to social events more often than we ever thought we would. And sometimes, renewed grief hits when milestone moments come and go in ways we didn’t expect.

But this path is also full of purpose. It’s teaching us what really matters. It’s refining us, softening us, anchoring us. It’s filled with deep joy as we watch Joel grow at his own pace—and with a fresh understanding of what it means to be misunderstood by the world but fully known and held by God.

This is only the beginning of our story. And if you’re walking a similar road, I hope you’ll come along for the rest of the journey.