My autistic son can finally say ‘Daddy’ aged four…and I’m SO proud

My son Rory has been fighting battles ever since he was conceived.

In the womb he gave us all sorts of scares. Abnormal scans, endless blood tests, invasive fluid samples, pre-natal heart checks.

He came through all that – and a traumatic birth – and at 18 months he was a happy baby. But he was still a baby.

Every milestone, if it came, came late. He barely rolled and never crawled. He didn’t sit up for ages. He took forever to take his first step. And then, crucially, as his second birthday came and went, he never, ever talked.

Friends tried to reassure us. “He’s a boy. They’re lazy. He had glue ear didn’t he? He’ll soon catch up.”

But by then my wife Sarah and I had started to notice other things too. He would play away from other children in a world of his own. He was lining a lot of things up – fruit, cars, toys. Rearranging them methodically, over and over and over. He would do it for hours. He seemed obsessed with letters and numbers. Especially numbers.

When he started flapping, so did we. We’d been worried about the A-word for a while, but suddenly everything was pointing in that same, terrifying direction.

Then finally, it came. D-Day. You can be as tough as old boots and as prepared as you like, but I’ll never forget the moment of diagnosis, when our worst fears were confirmed. The dread must have swept my face as the paediatrician uttered the words. Rory had autism. There was no escaping it. Not for him. Not for us. And there never would be.

Suddenly there were tears. And a lot of questions. He was only two-and-a-half. Would he ever be able to live a “normal” life? Would he ever speak? Would he be able to go to a mainstream school? Would he ever make friends? What would happen to him if something happened to us?

There’s also a more immediate question nobody prepares you for: What the HELL happens now? Everything up to that point has been a huge fight – a struggle for a diagnosis, some clarity, a medical explanation. When it comes…then what!?

In that wild storm of shock and bewilderment that followed, we desperately looked around for a life raft. And, unlike most parents in the same position, we got lucky.

By chance, Sarah had recently met another mum who’s son had been diagnosed several years before. He had got a place – and thrived – at Puzzle Centre, a specialist nursery for children with autism and other communication difficulties.

We’d never even heard of it, but a few weeks later we were on our way to see the centre, one of only a handful in the UK that offer specialist early intervention.

It blew us away. There was a specialist teacher and a speech and language therapist at every session, with every child receiving one-to-one adult support and teaching.

This was unlike any nursery we had ever seen. The children, all of whom had difficulties, were clearly thriving in the calm, peaceful environment.

The staff explained that they used the SCERTS model – which focuses on social communication, emotional regulation and transactional support. The programme, we were told, supported both children and their families by focusing on meaningful, targeted progress within everyday routines.

For the first time since Rory’s diagnosis, we suddenly had hope. Here was a place we could imagine him being happy, where he might make real progress. We managed to get him on the waiting list – the Puzzle Centre is a charity and relies heavily on donations, so places are very hard to come by – but last September, a year after his diagnosis, our son began his journey there.

Rory is now four and, thanks to Puzzle, has come a very, very long way. He is far more sociable and enjoys playing with other children for the first time. He can now communicate using the Picture Exchange Communication System (PECS). He is doing brilliantly and, despite his difficulties, is a really happy, loving little boy.

He is also, finally, starting to talk. Most parents dread being woken up in the middle of the night by the screams of a youngster. But in the last few weeks his hopeless yelps have slowly turned to “Daaaddddyy!” and I wake up with a huge grin on my face, bursting with pride that my little boy is finally finding his voice.

He’s starting to say other words too: Hello, goodbye, thank you, chocolate (of course), tomato (don’t ask) and numbers. Lots and lots of numbers.

I just wish that every parent with an autism diagnosis had somewhere like Puzzle Centre to turn when they most need it.

One in 100 children have Autism Spectrum Disorder and, while Puzzle is doing everything it can to help – and is now offering a brilliant outreach service for pre-school children and families across the UK – currently they can only scratch the surface.

And as for Rory? In September he will start at a local special school and, although we’re still worried about his future, he’s now in a much, much better place to fulfil his potential.

* Geoff Marsh is running the London Marathon on April 22 to raise vital funds for Puzzle Centre. To sponsor him, please CLICK HERE