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In 1983, my second son was born. When he was 18 months old, my wife and I started getting uneasy about the (lack of) emotional attachment between him and us. Later on, we learned that he was autistic. From ages one and a half to eight, his overall development was zero or negative.

Only those who have raised (or are in the process of raising) a low functioning autistic child, can imagine what we went through in those years: Fear, denial, worry, hope, disappointment and uncertainty. We lost the lovely fair-haired child we thought we had, and yet, we could not grieve. The autistic child deserves love and respect, not grief.

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 Photo: Dagbladet

It’s a big challenge: To love a child that doesn’t “connect” to you nor to anybody else. To respect something you don’t understand. To create a warm, wholehearted attachment to somebody who doesn’t seem to want it, and who makes you, by all your natural inclinations, feel very sad and uneasy.

Thanks to Dr. Karl Ludvig Reichelt, at Rikshospitalet in Oslo, we count ourselves among the luckiest of parents today.
When our son was eight years old, we learnt about a “new” treatment option that seemed too simple to be true. We were sceptical, we hesitated, but we tried it. After that, we’ve never looked back, without shuddering at what we would have missed, if we hadn’t grabbed that opportunity.

We haven’t “got our son back”. We’ve got him forward. Not to where he would have been if he had not become ill, wherever that would have been. But he’s come a long, long way in our direction. He “connects”. He relates happily and easily to almost anybody. He plays. He speaks. He even works. He’s toilet trained. He feels pain and love, and tells us about it. He’s no longer a scary stranger, but the most genuinely honest, positive person we know. There is no evil in him.

How did it happen ? Read on at http://www.internationallaw.no/GFCF_results