Dylan's Story is the account of one family's journey to recover their son from Autism through extensive research, nutrition, and the elimination of toxic chemicals.

The diagnosis

We received a call from Children's Hospital to let us know that the results of Dylan's formal evaluation were ready. The doctor had requested that both my husband and I come to the follow-up appointment. On the day of the appointment, Joe and I had no idea that we were about to receive the biggest blow of our lives.

The neurologist sat us down and informed us that our son was autistic. I was devastated. Was I shocked? No. But hearing it out of the doctor's mouth was surreal. I knew there was something wrong with Dylan, but I did not have a name for it. When the doctor said "Autism" I just wanted to die!!! My husband, on the other hand, just sat and fumed. He did not say anything, but you could see in his eyes that he just wanted to explode!

The doctor, I believe, sensed this and proceeded with caution. She very mechanically explained to us that Dylan was autistic and would require lots of therapies. She recommended Dylan receive applied behavioral analysis (ABA) therapy. ABA therapy is a specific behavioral approach used to teach new skills and behavior. It is an Intensive behavioral intervention that uses an array of behavioral techniques that change over time as the child progresses.

The doctor recommended that Dylan receive a formal ABA program to address toileting, food selectivity, behavioral regulation, and stimulatory behavior. In addition, it was recommended that Dylan receive in-home services four times a week to carry over the ABA program, speech and occupational therapy. The doctor informed us that if we wanted to learn more about autism there were numerous books and support groups that were available on the web.

This was all just too much for me! ABA, in-home programs, and support groups. I just wanted to know if there was a cure. When I asked the doctor if there was a cure for autism, the doctor curtly told me "NO". My whole body went limp. It was bad enough getting the diagnosis, but it was worse getting it from a person who truly had no compassion or genuine feeling towards us or our child. It was as if the doctor was handing us a piece of paper. Here take this, accept it, and move on - next! It was unbearable.

In the elevator I began to cry. I could not contain myself, I was totally heartbroken. My husband wrapped his arms around me and continued to reassure me it would be "ok".  After stepping off the elevator, I looked up at him. He wore the same expression he did in the doctor's office. The only way I can explain it is, he looked like a bull before it is going to charge. Intense!

When I asked my husband how he was feeling he just said "no way." He kept saying it, over and over. He matter-of-factly told me that "this was not Dylan's destiny." This would become a phrase that both my husband and I would come to use frequently through the course of our journey to recover our son.

Could Joe have thought it was not Dylan's destiny to be autistic because he was in a state of denial? Yes. But it was also due to the special bond that he carried with our son. As parents, I think you have a certain intuition when it comes to your children. Joe's intuition was telling him that this was not the way things were meant to be. Although things looked cut and dry, they were not.

Despite the reality around us, Joe and I saw a light inside of Dylan. Although dim at times, it was still there. I think many others saw the same light, and that, too, is why they could not see or accept the diagnosis.

Life after the diagnosis

Life after the diagnosis was a constant heartache. Joe and I walked around like zombies for a week. We literally became numb and could not feel. You have to understand, to date we had no idea that Dylan was a candidate for autism. We had been dealing with therapists, doctors, and day-care providers since Dylan was seventeen months old. Everyone agreed, Dylan had delays, but no one ever indicated or suggested this was due to "autism."

As the days passed by, I would frequently break down two or three times a day. I could not stop reliving the heart-piercing reality of what the doctors had told us. Our son was autistic and there was no cure. Telling my family proved to be the hardest. My mother, who was like Dylan's second mother, wanted to call the hospital to dispute the diagnosis. She just kept saying how brilliant Dylan was, and how the doctors would have thought Einstein was autistic too!

During this time Joe and I began to do some research on autism. We were blown away to find that Dylan was not just autistic, but "textbook" autistic. Dylan fell into every category, displaying 100% autistic tendencies and behaviors.

It was devastating to see every single one of our son's actions, behaviors, and tendencies staring us in the face on a sheet of paper. I felt cheated.

The behaviors and tendencies that I thought defined Dylan, really just defined autism:
* Ritualistic behaviors
* Child not interested in peer interaction
* Lack of eye contact
* Self-restricted diet
* Child does not respond to his/her name
* Child cannot explain what he/she wants
* Language skills or speech are delayed
* Child doesn't follow directions
* At times child seems to be hearing-impaired or deaf
* Child seems to hear sometimes, but not others
* Child doesn't point or wave bye-bye
* Child throws intense or violent tantrums
* Child has odd movement patterns
* Child is hyperactive, uncooperative, or oppositional
* Child gets "stuck" on things over and over, and can't move on to other things
* Child seems to prefer to play alone
* Child gets things for him/herself only
* Child is very independent for his/her age
* Child seems to be in his/her "own world"
* Child seems to tune people out
* Child shows unusual attachments to toys, objects, or schedules (i.e., always holding a string, or having to put socks on before pants)
* Child spends a lot of time lining things up or putting things in a certain order
* Self-stimulatory behavior
* Echolia (repeating words)

It became difficult to watch Dylan display his "normal" behaviors because now we were aware they were actually the result of his new diagnosis—autism.

Work became hard to focus on, and my husband and I found ourselves withdrawing from friends, family, and each other at times. No one could fathom what we were going through, and quite honestly we did not want them to. We were still trying to understand it ourselves.

Until Dylan's diagnosis, my husband and I had based our lives around "keeping up with the Joneses." Although we had a happy marriage, and adored our son, we also enjoyed the benefits of all of our hard work. We lived in a large house, in a well-sought-after neighborhood. We went to neighborhood functions, and were even planning to join a country club located close by.

This all seemed so irrelevant now. The big house, the cars, the lifestyle - all seemed so frivolous. When reviewing our life, nothing seemed to matter except Dylan. Life as we had known it had ceased. All that was once considered important did not matter. All that mattered was Dylan.

When Dylan was initially diagnosed, I am embarrassed to say that I held a pity party for myself: Why Dylan? Why us? How could God do this to us? What did we do to deserve this? (As if we were the only ones who have ever received a stinging blow in our lives.) When that did not make me feel better, I turned to self-blame. I began to blame myself for Dylan's diagnosis. "it's my fault," "if only I had done something sooner," "if only I had seen the signs," "if I did not work," etc. It was an endless, vicious cycle of blame and guilt.

Both my husband and I were equally devastated. Although Joe and I had a very strong relationship, we found ourselves dealing with our pain independently. Sometimes it just hurt too much to talk about, even though we were both experiencing the same pain.

Joe and I would later come to find out that while we were both grieving, we were both making the same pact with God and the Heavens. After weeks of keeping our emotions to ourselves, my husband and I had a serious heart-to-heart talk. Our talk revealed our feelings, our fears, and, ironically, the same pact we had made independently.

As unfathomable as it may sound, both my husband and I made a pact with God to take our lives, in exchange for Dylan to experience all of the wonderful joys of life. We did not see Dylan as autistic, but as a little boy trapped within his own body.

Editors Note: Read the rest of Dylan's Story to learn how the family incorporated organic foods into their diet to help treat Dylan's condition.