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Right before my youngest son's fourth birthday, I was called in to the office at his daycare. My son, Ben, had been screaming in class, and the manager told me that I had to find a new place for my son because "we can't handle kids like him." I was completely blindsided. I didn't know it at the time, but I was raising a child with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). His screaming was an attempt to soothe himself when the world got to be too much.
We spent most of the next year chasing down doctors, scheduling appointments with out-of-state specialists, and endlessly struggling to access vital resources before we would finally get a diagnosis for Ben. And we were lucky. I have a background in the medical industry. My husband had a job with fantastic benefits. And it was still an uphill fight for our family to find out what was happening with Ben, and how to help him.
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