Kolja Born 2003 Dx Autism 2005 Age 23 Months

About two weeks before my son's second birthday, I realized that he was autistic.  I had been reading about autism and many other things on the internet, trying to figure out what was happening to my beautiful baby.  Inaccurate information stopped me from believing that he could be autistic? How could someone who spoke and laughed and danced just like my other two children had, have become Autistic?  He was diagnosed officially about three months later.  His official diagnosis is simply ASD, but from my own readings I would say that he is moderately affected.  My son was damaged by flu vaccinations which contained mercury while on antibiotics. I didn't even consider this possibility at first. Or even second or third. But the more I read, the more of our videos of his before and after behaviour that I watched, the more I was convinced.

Prior to these vaccinations he spoke about 80 words, was affectionate, involved, funny. Just a normal kid. Two months after the first vaccination, at the age of 23 months, he was withdrawn, almost non-verbal, obsessed with movies and dropping action figures over the edge of the couch. He started biting himself very hard and banging his head against chairs. He no longer acknowledged anyone except me, and generally he just wanted to twirl the rings on my fingers until his nails were torn and my fingers were swollen. He stopped sleeping well at night. His poops became soft and weird. He didn't want to run or play anymore. Eye contact was gone.  He was never joyful.

Just prior to his second birthday, we went GFCF. He stopped hurting
himself and we were ecstatic. He started sleeping better. We began
supplementing, giving epsom salt baths and using Floortime. He made
some progress. A few words came back. After about 6 weeks, he
would smile a bit a couple times a day. Our floortime therapy was
devoted entirely to trying to make him happy. We wanted to close
circles of communication that involved a smile, or maybe even a
laugh or a caress. Progress was slow but noticeable. We didn't
even try to teach him language or skills, even though we now had 45
minutes of ST every second week (I simply gathered information to
put into practice later, while my son generally tried to leave the room). We had the idea right from the beginning that we were going to fix things from the inside out.

Fifteen supplements into things, diet now low soy, phenol and sugar, yeast protocol and some pretty decent floortime skills under my belt and progress was still back and forth. The improvements that stuck involved level of happiness. My son could now laugh when tickled, at least some of the time. He could smile if you fell down in a spectacular kind of way. He started jumping on our bed in a manner that no longer looked like an obsession, but looked like fun. Once in a
while, he would look up if you called his name. Maybe three times
a week, he would approach me from behind while I sat on the floor
and hug me. We had a few weeks of great language improvement, up to
about 50 different words spoken one week, but then gone again. We
were happy with our efforts over the past six months, and joyful
with the progress, but we knew that we could do better. We knew we
had to address the reason why, in spite of our efforts, our son
continued to lose skills/language/behaviours that he had just
learned.

We then started chelation, using Andy Cutler's protocol. DMSA/ALA every three hours. We finished five rounds in five weeks. At the end of the last round, my son hugged his dad. Something that hadn't happened in eight months. My son looked up at me from the bed, held up an arm and said "nuggle", a word he used to use 10 times a day. And then we nuggled, his cheek against mine, just like we used to do before his regression. Eye contact could sometimes last 15 or 20 seconds, up from 1 or 2 seconds at most. He could play pat-a-cake with his hands now (as opposed to only feet that we would move for him) and he even started grabbing my hands and holding them still as a joke. With a smile on his face!

Some of these changes began before chelation. But now they are coming faster and faster and they seem to be sticking. The word nuggle three days in row, as opposed to once and then gone again for months. Calling his sister's name when she's gone, rather than ignoring her completely
while she's around. Watching some kids play on their bikes at the
park, instead of swinging obsessively like he's alone in the world.

I read not too long ago a post on the Autism-Mercury list where someone mentioned a "spark" in their child after changing dosing schedules.  That's what we see too. That spark, that used to be in his eyes always, had disappeared. It is coming back now, for longer and longer stretches.

We have far to go. And for anyone just starting this process, I
know that write-ups like this make it all seem very quick and
orderly, but it's not like that. It's starting supps and then
taking them away. And then starting new supps that you should have
had in place first, and restarting the old supps, but at a lower
dose. It's assuming you might know what you're doing for once,
until you start trying to do it, and then it suddenly seems very
confusing, and you have to write your listmates again, and again,
and again. It's wondering if you're making the right decisions even
when the progress is staring you right in the face because how
bloody ludicrous is it that someone who is supposed to protect your
child from harm would poison him on purpose? If you can get your
mind around that seeming impossibility, you can take the steps to
get your child better.

There are hardships, most certainly. Hardships of all kinds, including trying to recover our son without the help of a doctor knowledgeable in biomedical interventions for ASD.   But there are many pleasures too. Like getting up twice a night to chelate and being very, very happy about doing so--I mean skipping to the fridge, smiling! Or having your
kid look into your eyes and bragging about it when your husband gets
home, and both of you tearing up with joy. Or your older son
running upstairs to report that his little brother just played
drawing with him for five minutes without interruption.

I sometimes wonder how far my son's health would have deteriorated if we hadn't been fortunate enough to catch him so quickly.  There were only 90 days between his first flu vaccination and going GFCF, and although his regression was dramatic, I know that my son's condition is not nearly as severe as many of the children I have read about.  Part of that very good fortune is a result of internet sites like this one you're reading now. 

Anita