The first time I started realizing that my son was different was when he was an infant. He wasn’t… he didn’t want to be close to me, he didn’t snuggle like I saw other babies behaving, and I internalized that that I was doing something wrong, that I wasn’t good at being a mom. And he kept wanting to stop nursing, and gagging and I kept thinking, “I’m just not doing this well.” And then he got a little older and he wouldn’t sit with one toy, he wouldn’t look at a book and I kept thinking, “Other kids are doing this. Why aren’t you doing this?” And at 3 his pediatrician had used the word autism, which blindsided me. But after that point, I started going, “Okay, this is what this might be. And now I need to start looking at this. I need to start finding out about autism.” And that’s what I did.