In 1994, when my son was born, I considered myself the luckiest person alive. After years of going thru In Vitro Fertilization, told my many doctor's that "we've done all we can do", "I'm sorry, but you can't get pregnant". I finally had my son. When my son was a baby, he cried all the time-the 9 months worth of colic cry. Not only the colic cry but the unstoppable hour after hour cry. This cry was inconsolable and seemed to be triggered by an event or outgoing. He would be happy as can be and then something triggered and WHAM-that cry. I tried to figure out what I done wrong when I was pregnant to get a baby that was so miserable. I can remember times when I couldn't hold him close enough, couldn't calm his spirit, couldn't sit and listen to him any longer, crying myself and asking God why he gave me this little boy that was going to be so unhappy.
             At the age of 3, my husband and I knew our son was not like other kids-he seemed to have special needs-needs we weren't' sure how to meet. For instance, we realized that our son couldn't follow directions-not wouldn't-couldn't. We learned to take him by the shoulders, look into his eyes, and say, "Focus." But we knew that something in his brain didn't allow him to do so easily.
             At 4, our son experienced several drastic behavioral changes-he was "in trouble" a lot. He lased out aggressively toward other kids, towards us, towards himself. He would get a vacant look in his eyes during times his behavior was most out of control, he would become so enraged with something "gone wrong" that I would literally have lock him in his room.
             Denial became a bit more realistic because I wanted the "perfect son" but all the signs were there. His preschool teacher who had a gift of loving difficult children-children like our son! She willingly answered his questions, she willi...