about a boy

Yesterday we finally had our appointment with the neurologist to see if there might be a medical reason why Elliott is delayed in his walking. I expected to hear things like delay, physical therapy, catch up in no time. Instead, we were thrown words like developmental disorder, autism, genetic testing. I used to think labels like these would devastate me. But that was long before I knew the boy they were referring to.

The jury is still out on whether or not Elliott has a nameable problem, if there is a medical issue behind his struggle to walk, to identify his body parts, to ask for the things he wants. But 24 hours later I am left with this one important fact: He is still the same boy he was the day before. This boy is far more than the sum of his parts. No matter what any test shows or doctor tells us, he is brimming with potential. He is capable and teachable. Above all, he is lovable. Infinitely lovable.

I have been awed by the things my friend Liita has taught her son Nathan, a smart, kind, beautiful boy who just happens to have Down Syndrome. Every time I read this post about his amazing development, including how he could identify and name every letter of the alphabet at age 2 and a half (a seeming impossibility for a child with Down Syndrome), I get a lump in my throat.

I also have been moved by the perspective of Paul Collins and Jennifer Elder, whose son Morgan was diagnosed with autism. Their interview with Krista Tippett deeply impressed me long before "autism" ever became part of our vocabulary.

Because here's the thing: Medical science, as wonderful as it is, can never measure what a child is capable of, especially if this child has parents who believe in the impossible. And society can never dictate what is good and true and normal.

The story of Elliott is about a boy. A smart, funny, happy, loving, beautiful boy. And no matter what label he ultimately gets slapped with, nothing will change that.