Regarding Newtown II (I am Adam Lanza's Father)

I normally post on Mondays, and I was going to follow Newtown number 1 up with some links pertaining to gun control (I'm against it as you might expect).
But the fellow who wrote about his son in the previous post wrote another, and this one is even more poignant. I just can't continue without sharing it with you.

If you, or someone you know, has a child with AS, this will be all too familiar.

I have removed dates and anything else that I feel would readily identify the writer and his family.

Some of you may have read the internet blog that went viral, called "I Am Adam Lanza's Mother". I read it. My wife read it, tearing up and crying while she did so. I was particularly turned off by the comments left for the writer by readers, many of which were condemning, cold, and simply ignorant.

In the wake of the Connecticut shootings, there have been discussions about gun control, gun rights, mental health, and a lot of people on both sides of the fence arguing whether or not the fact that the shooter had Asperger's Syndrome had anything to do with his decision to murder his own mother and massacre over two dozen people, most of them children. I have read articles, listened to people, and considered the arguments. Poor parenting has been blamed, guns have been blamed, and I've even heard people talk about how these "mentally sick" people should be put down like animals.

We live a very average life. The pregnancy was planned (as much as any really are). Her pregnancy was normal, nothing unusual, and he was born one day after his due date. 100% healthy, no issues, and we welcomed him into our family because he was wanted. We go to church. We show our children affection, but have firm rules. Education is stressed. We limit television and monitor what our children watch, encourage reading, keep video games limited to non-violent games. We eat dinner together every night. I coached soccer, baseball, and helped with Cub Scouts. My wife joined the PTA, helped with Scouts, and we both help out at our church. I would say we are the average family.

From the very beginning I knew he was different than other children. As an infant, he cried very little and was content to be left alone, whether in his crib, on a blanket, or in a bouncy chair. Much to our surprise, he became agitated and would cry when held, cuddled, or rocked. We did not think of it too much. But inside I knew that he was not like my friends' children, he was somehow different.

As he grew into a toddler we found that he had some unusual personality traits. Fixation on objects, a need to have things in a certain order, and a certain "distance" from people around him. He did not respond to facial expressions, was extremely sensitive to bright lights or loud sounds, and when you spoke to him he would rarely, if ever, look at you.

Then the tantrums started.

We were told it was normal for a two year old. It was a phase. We shouldn't be worried. Even as I explained to the doctor that he seemed to get far more upset than seemed normal, I was told "It's the 'terrible twos'". So I accepted this. But they didn't end, and would become quite extreme, even for a toddler. Sometimes to the point where he would hurt himself. His anxiety level seemed to grow almost daily, and would peak at virtually uncontrollable levels. On the plus side, he seemed to be unusually bright. When given pre-school tests that children are given at those ages, he consistently scored in the 99th percentile. So again, we were told that he was "perfectly normal". In fact, we were told he was "gifted".

But, the reactions and actions continued to get worse, and more frequent.

Again, we sought the help of his pediatrician who told us that "Kids have tantrums. You just have to work with them." You see, he had no delays in walking, talking, or other "milestones" that the medical community sets to determine if children are developmentally delayed. So he was considered "normal".

We were not so sure.

He has younger sister. Another healthy child, born about a week before her due date. Unlike my son, she was a very typical baby, acting like most babies do. Loved to be held, cuddled, and kissed. Cried when she was unhappy. Everything you would expect.

When he was about 4, he was in the kitchen with my wife. He asked her one day, "Mommy, I wonder what your guts would look like if I cut your stomach open". In looking back, I now realize it was an honest question. He had a thought, and wondered what a person's insides were made of and how they looked. Curious, like a scientist.

When he entered public school, it didn't take long for his Kindergarten teacher to contact us with concerns about him. At this point, I had done a lot of research on autism, as he seemed to display many of the characteristics common to autistic children. Hand flapping, rhythmic movements, fixation on objects or topics, anxiety, poor communication skills, etc. The school recommended we have a psychological evaluation performed. It took months to find someone who would test him, and there was an ensuing battle of who would pay for it; the school, us, our insurance, who? Honestly, I can't remember who footed the bill, but we did pay a portion. We expressed to the doctor who tested him that we were concerned he had some level of autism.

We were told he was not autistic, and especially did not have Asperger's Syndrome. Why? Well, because he wasn't skinny, and according to her being thin and tall were part of the physical profile of Aspergians. We were told he likely had something like an AD/HD type issue, but she would not diagnose it because at his age; the DSM-IV manual allowed for a broad spectrum of behavior that technically narrowed as children got older. So, he was sent back to school with no diagnosis and no plan. The school placed him on a 504 Plan for occupational therapy because his motor skills were poor and his writing/coloring/drawing were messier than they should have been for his age.

And the tantrums continued. We tried everything that you're "supposed" to do. Time-outs, loss of toys, privileges, sent to your room, no dessert, etc. My wife walked right out of the movie theater, dragging him along one time when he was upset about something. We did not lavish him with an excessive amount of things, either. We did not spoil him. We taught him what were the right things to do, what were the wrong things, but he struggled with understanding some of these. The only thing I had not done is hit my son. But that would change.

As he grew, my wife became more and more concerned about his tantrums. And scared. Sometimes he would have to be physically restrained from hurting himself, his sister, or his mother. When in a frantic state, he would run, smash his head, bite people close to him, etc. As he grew larger, I became the only one that could physically handle him. Desperate, I asked my father what I should do....nothing was working.

"Hit him. Make him afraid. Teach him respect." After all, it's what was done with me, and "it worked". I had never done it because I did not want to be that type of parent. But yes, by the time he was 6 or so, the spanking started. When he would lose his cool and call his mother swear words, he would get a slap in the mouth. Sometimes hard. But it was not a deterrent for him and this corporal punishment did not seem to have much effect other than enrage him. I resorted to threatening, yelling, and punishing because I felt I had exhausted every other avenue, but honestly we were getting nowhere.

We started taking him to a counselor/therapist, and this went on for quite a few months. She was very good. Then something happened. Our medical insurance changed, my company got a new carrier and the therapy service did not accept our new insurance. We offered to pay privately, but were told that they could not allow us to do that where we actually had medical insurance. We tried to find a new therapist, but our insurance company would only allow for a list of "approved" people, and waiting lists were months long, and there was no way they could tell us when a spot would open up for us.

All along, knowing our son was unusual, we focused our efforts on training him to appear average and "normal". We taught him to hide his physical actions that drew negative attention, trained him to abandon his monotone way of speaking, and taught him to control his tantrums and "hold it in" until he was home, with us, where he could release his anxiety with those that loved him. Our thought was that if he could appear "normal" to everyone, he would be treated as such and nobody would suspect he was, in fact, quite different. You see, the world is a cruel place, with cruel people, many of them children, and we wanted our son to be seen as no different than any other child.

Later our insurance allowed for another psychological examination because enough time had passed that they felt it would be okay. A new doctor tested him extensively, and concluded that he had Asperger's Syndrome, which we suspected all along. At school, my son was listed as a special education student, placed on an IEP, and the school worked to understand his needs, although unsuccessfully. They readily admitted that they had virtually no training in dealing with autism. Most of their plans were ineffective, and my son continued to struggle socially among his peers, which eventually started to affect his academics.

Due to his quirky behavior, manner of speaking, and physical problems (not athletic, not very "smooth"), other children quickly targeted him and the bullying increased exponentially each year as he moved into a new grade. We tried to teach him to shrug it off, it didn't matter what they said. We also continued to teach him how to "fly under the radar", but honestly for him it was almost impossible. Again, our end goal was to teach him to survive and succeed in society even with his particular challenges. When his anxiety would peak, he would still need physical restraining. But, as he grew to over 5' tall and 125 lbs., he became harder and harder to handle.

His doctor prescribed anxiety medication. It seemed to help, some, but as he grew larger the dosage was not changed, despite our concerns, because his doctor concluded that his behavior issues were socially induced, and not due to a chemical issue.

By the time my son was in the 5th grade he had started to withdraw. We didn't know it, it just seemed that on the outside he was dealing with his issues better. Less frequent tantrums, fewer meltdowns, seemed to recover more quickly and "come back to reality". As parents we felt we were being successful; more expression in his speech, fewer outbursts, more humor, and he generally seemed more content. When he did act out, is was still extreme, maybe more extreme than ever, but he would recover more quickly and started to show some empathy and remorse for what he had done, which was something new. He also started to express affection and looked for us to sit with him, hug him, and he told us often that he loved us. So, we felt that we had made real strides.

This did not, however, mean things were smooth. I remember one day in particular, I had gotten this Red Ryder BB gun as a present. My son had a high anxiety day at school and when he came home, he flipped out. I didn't know that he knew where the BB gun was. He went and got it, then proceeded to shoot up various objects; the house, a basketball net we have, his swingset, etc., despite my wife pleading with him. She walked away, afraid that in his state of mind he may shoot her or his sister. Because she just didn't know if he would. I never imagined he would. He had never done anything like that before. I was at work, my wife called me and I came home immediately. He was in a sort of semi-conscious state, sorry for what he had done. The BB gun was given to my father, who I believe may have destroyed it. And there were other things.

We continued to seek medical attention, continued to seek psychiatric attention, talked with the school, read books, implemented plans, and struggled as a family.

Finally, my son's anxiety peaked over a minor issue. He had been struggling in school, was tired of the ridicule from other children, tired of feeling confused and upset, tired of feeling "out of control", and tired of struggling. He had been sent to his room by my wife after an argument. It was this day he decided to end his own life. He took the cords from his blinds, tied them to his bedpost and around his neck, and slid out the window of his second floor bedroom.

Luckily, my wife heard activity from his room and went to check on him; she was able to get him back into his room from the open window before he had seriously injured himself. At the hospital he confessed that he had been planning to end his life for a few months and was firmly committed to doing it. The DSS system took him from us and placed him in an inpatient treatment facility. He was released back to our care 9 days later when they determined he was not an immediate threat to himself or others.

And this is where we are now.

On the other hand, we have a very typical and average 8 year old daughter who displays no issues, is "normal" (if there is such a thing) in every way, and brings a lot of joy to our lives.

But as far as our son, in his life he's gotten pushed aside by doctors, pushed aside by clinicians, pushed aside by educators. As parents, we've gotten the same thing. Pushed aside by insurances, given the run-around, etc. No special medical treatment for my son. No special educational facility. No help for him or us. Hell, even the military would not allow him to enlist even if he wanted to because of his diagnosis.

Gerber Life Insurance refused to insure my son for a $5K policy based on the fact that he has autism. Imagine that. And the insure most any kid whose parents can fill out a piece of paper.

Adam Lanza's mother cannot tell her tale. But I can. So before you write "stupid mother", "bad parent", or "face of evil, should have been put down like a dog", stop and consider where the real failures are, or most likely were.

This has been long. If you have been patient enough to read it, thank you. If you have been open-minded enough to allow it to, well, open your mind, thank you even more.

Sad, and I suspect that Adam's mom went through similar pains, wealthy though they were.

My own father suspects that the reason no doctor or organization wants to touch these children is due to a fear of being sued. I suspect he's right.