Diagnosing Elijah book cover — Elijah in an EEG mesh cap and red hoodie, looking directly at the camera
A Book by Daniel & Kristan Dow

Diagnosing Elijah

Elijah didn't breathe for seven minutes after birth. The doctors said he'd recover. They said autism was possible. Three years later, the diagnosis came. It still doesn't explain him.

What happened

December 11, 2016. Elijah didn't breathe for seven minutes after birth. He'd aspirated meconium. The doctors diagnosed hypoxic-ischemic encephalopathy — HIE — brain injury from oxygen deprivation. They said it wasn't severe. They said he'd recover.

They warned that autism was possible. It was one word on a list: epilepsy, developmental delays, autism. At the time it felt abstract. Something that probably wouldn't happen.

For a while, it looked like they were right. Elijah smiled. He laughed. He looked right at you. The commercials said to watch for no broad smiles by six months, no eye contact, no connection. Elijah had all of it.

Then the speech didn't come. Patterns emerged. Doors got narrated. Toys lined up in rows he called tunnels. Spinning things never stopped being fascinating. At three years old, the diagnosis came.

Autism spectrum disorder. The label was supposed to explain him. It didn't.

A birth injury. A label that doesn't match. A kid the system still can't explain.

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