The towers were huge. He would take a block, and without any effort, immediately know the position, the balance and the physics.

The towers grew to his height and beyond. I would watch him stretch his arms above his head, placing that final block way above his blonde curls.

He was only 18 months old!

When the health visitor arrived for his 18 month developmental check, she placed three blocks in front of my son. The milestone he was expected to reach at his age.

I remember the giggle inside me, as I watched Rhys stack each block on top of the other, then gather other different shaped blocks and create a sky scraper.

The health visitor’s mouth took a good thirty seconds to close. She had not seen a skill in a child of my son’s age.

But that’s when it stopped.

My son could stack blocks. His fine motor skills exemplary.

But he was silent.

He said no words. He didn’t respond to my requests. He couldn’t make a pretend cup of tea when asked. He did no imaginary play. He didn’t socialise with any other children. He was locked in his world.

I held onto his strengths. But struggled with where he wasn’t making the grade.

That was a time of uncertainty. A time where no one told me the reasons. A time when all I wanted was for someone to give me the answer. To give me the guide book on what I could do.

But no one did.

Not until a good two years later.

And that is tough. That is hard on a parent.

Two years it took. And then many more years of fighting for help and closure.

Because Rhys was not the one who needed to change. I needed to change and understand the mum he needed me to be.

I am not there yet. I will keep evolving. Things will keep adapting. I will keep learning.

I just wish autism wasn’t so taboo. I wish those in the profession could have told me what they were seeing. I wish the system didn’t mean they couldn’t, and it is only the role of the paediatrician that can.

Our children don’t need to change, this world is what needs to change!