I envisioned us meeting on that gorgeous lawn so that our boys could romp around while she and I bitched about the mainstream medical profession and how difficult it is to go out in public because other people just don’t “get it.” I thought I could voice my concerns about my own parenting style and the impression that I give to other parents. About my fears that I would be considered some wack-o for insisting that my son not be given artificial flavors and colors. I wanted to cry about how I was afraid my son wouldn’t have friends. I would admit that I was afraid of not having friends myself, because after all, I have a quirky kid. How do you find babysitters willing to watch your son? I wanted to ask.

I emailed the address on the paper and called the telephone number. I left an upbeat hopeful message, trying to sound perky, likeable, and fashionable the way the women who live in her area are.

At 10:00pm that evening, I received a call. It was the father of the boy. He was friendly, but forceful. He drilled me about my situation: Did I have a difficult pregnancy? Did I eat fish while pregnant? Am I Rh-negative? Is my son Rh-positive? How was the delivery?

He lectured me about the causes of mercury poisoning and how it was imperative that I start the Cat on chelation as soon as possible. He warned me about not vaccinating Spliggle, lest he “become” autistic. He told me to read his website about vaccinations, and he told me the name of a physician who would work with us to un-poison our son.

He told me I was lucky, since the Cat has only some autistic tendencies, whereas his son is completely non-verbal and was non-social until the chelation has improved his situation.

It stung.

I know that I am “lucky” that the Cat can occasionally act like a normal boy. It is a double-edged sword: since he is frequently capable of being completely “normal,” more is expected of him. When he becomes non-verbal and non-responsive, the implication is that it is completely under his control and that he is simply being naughty. (And that I am an enabler for defending him even in the least.) It doesn’t occur to others that certain triggers can be overwhelming for the Cat. Think I am in denial? When the Cat misbehaves, he is punished like any other “normal” kid would be. I don’t just make excuses and let the behavior continue.

Yes, I know the guy’s kid is worse off that ours. Buck up, Baby. But I needed someone willing to let me complain about my situation. Let me be selfish for a little bit.

Every night, I pray for the safety of my children. I am thankful that they don’t have cancer, haven’t been run over by a car, or kidnapped. I know that having a child with autistic-like tendencies is a small challenge compared to what burdens others must shoulder.

The Mercury Man was glad that I had tried the Feingold Program, but said that it didn’t go far enough. He told me that many of the foods the Program allows should actually be stricken. I had gone from being told by doctors that the Feingold Diet was a sham and that I was restricting my son too much, to being told that I wasn’t far enough into alternative medicine. Am I too radical, or not radical enough?

After I got off the phone, I was sad, angry, and confused.

I still hadn’t found my place. And I didn’t know what to pursue. I cried to my husband that night, saying that Mercury Man had essentially staged an intervention, and that his assertions seemed almost cult-like. Husband gently suggested that in a way it was a cult – a group of people who have found hope in something that they are eager to share with others. I agreed, but still felt horrible.

I have yet to take Spliggle to his one-year-old appointment because I know there are vaccines due, and I don’t know what to do.

I have been so bombarded with information from all the different “sides” that I have melted. I haven’t read most of the things on the mercury websites, or the handouts that my “case worker” (I hate how it sounds like I am a parolee, or some sort of derelict who requires constant monitoring) at my HMO has given me about medication and other types of therapies.

I am burnt out and lost.

Note: If the family I discuss happens to read this post, let me be clear that I know you mean well. I just expected something different. I was too optimistic in expecting companionship instead of a resource recommendation. I didn’t expect to be passed off. I appreciate the information, but still long for social interaction about this topic, which is why I have decided to discuss the situation here.