Autism, Right?

Gabriel and I were in Target last week. He was having a particularly "off" day. He didn't seem to be apart of this world, zoning, and unable to focus on anything. He couldn't hold any type of conversation with me. Not that we have real conversations yet but we couldn't get past one sentence on this day.
He has little awareness of personal space and it seemed especially bad as we maneuvered through the store. Gabriel bumped into me constantly. I'm used to it. I constantly have my body smushed by him or my toes stepped on, literally. His weight is supported by my vertical presence daily. I think he would have crawled back into the womb. It was that bad.
For the most part, I hear, "I would have never guessed he has autism." when I explain his behavior to other people. I don't tell people to get a pass for his behavior but to teach and advocate for special needs children. Maybe, just maybe, it will stop the evil stares and promote acceptance and tolerance.
Recently I stumbled on a site where adults bashed children with autism and their parents. It was heartbreakting to read that we, the parents of special needs parents, should leave our "retarded" children at home. We should learn how to parent and use discipline in our children's lives. This site pointed out how intolerant some adults are in this world. This fact scares the crap out of me as my son with autism ages.
In any case, the cashier looked at me and said, "Autism, right?" My heart sank. My mouth went dry and I nodded. I couldn't speak but looked at her with my pleading eyes. Please don't make me talk about this today. A day when I'm trying to keep it together.
Yes, autism. Yes, that demon in the room that follows us everywhere and we don't know when it will stike again. She continued to talk about her friend and how her child has autism, as if Gabriel wasn't standing there. It was another moment when I was glad we have told Gabriel that he will have to learn how to cope with autism through this lifetime.
What if I hadn't told Gabriel that he has autism? What then? Would I have lied and looked at her like she had two heads? Would I have wanted the ground to swallow me whole?
My stomach stopped doing flips when we got to the van. Why did this comment from an innocent person throw me so much? I've wondered for three years why people say that he doesn't look like he has autism. What is that look exactly? Why can't other people SEE it? SEE THE DEMON in our home I want to yell from the rooftops and now, well, now it happened and it was a sock in the gut.
Yes, he has autism. Some days are still worse than other days. Some days I want to curl up in my bed and sob for the child I thought we were going to have, for the child I want him to be... but I can't. I have to move on through our day. I'm the mother of three children and life doesn't allow for wimps. In these moments, I realize I love my child and I love his quirkiness and I am the one who has the problem with his disability. He doesn't care. He doesn't know the difference.
I don't know what to tell people when it comes to this topic. Tell me that you see autism, tell me that you don't. Either way, you'll probaby throw me for a loop. In either case, you will delight me that you care enough to talk about it. I'll be grateful that you aren't one of the adults writing that my child needs discipline. I'll also thank you for talking to me about it.