978-1572305441

Sally, Ann, and Danny 115
The pregnancy itself was uneventful, although Joan experienced
quite a bit of morning sickness. The triplets were born early by C-section
amid much joy and celebration. All three weighed under four pounds.
After the birth, the babies did well in the neonatal unit and were off the
respirators in twenty-four hours. They were in the hospital for only
nine weeks and then were sent home. There was quite a lot of fuss
among the nursing staff, and everybody was amazed at how well the babies
had done. When the family left the hospital, they were showered
with presents and given a big send-off. Even the local community newspaper
was there taking pictures. At home, the parents tried to cope with
the demands of caring for triplets. Joan read everything she could about
multiple births, searched the family tree for other twins born to relatives,
and enlisted the help of her parents and friends at the earliest opportunity.
They had regular appointments with the family doctor and the
pediatrician and followed all directions meticulously. Joan and Dave
became concerned with the children’s development at around eighteen
months, when they noticed that their babbling was not progressing to
speech. At their two-year appointment in the clinic the pediatrician
wondered whether the triplets might have autism based on their social
behavior and lack of interest in communicating. The parents were
shocked and alarmed. The pediatrician asked whether I could see them
as soon as possible.
* * *
The children wander around the room, picking up Lego pieces but
not really playing with them. The boy sits quietly in his mother’s lap,
asking for nothing. One girl falls down accidentally but does not cry or
go to her mother. The children approach their parents infrequently, and
when they do, there is little response to parental communication. At age
twenty-four months, only one of the girls is showing any communicative
intent by bringing a plastic container to her parents and asking for
help in opening it to see what’s inside. The three children mill around
us, largely oblivious to me and to their parents. Joan speaks their
names, one by one, but they do not turn around to see who calls them.
Danny bumps into me as if I were not there, Sally lines up some action
figures and babbles to herself, Ann is fascinated with the light on
my power bar. There is little in the way of social interaction among the
children and little desire to communicate either with me or with the