Huffington Magazine Issue 83 | Page 47

LOST BOY her Max can sit through a cartoon. Maybe one day, Max could talk, instead of uttering a limited range of sounds like “swee” (swing) and “Maaaah” (Max). Maybe he’ll be able to show people what he wants, instead of running around a room, shrieking, his desires anyone’s guess. When Maya really lets her imagination run wild, she pictures Max as an independent adult. Employed as a grocery bagger. Or a mail sorter. “The best scenario is that he learns how to learn,” Maya says. She struggles to reconcile her love for her son with her dismay for his situation. “I love my son so much,” she says. But, she adds, “I didn’t sign up to be a parent of a child who will remain a child until I die.” On a sunny Thursday in February, Max’s parents sat on their couch in D.C.’s Capitol Hill neighborhood to tell Max’s story. Their living room is a flurry of toys — dolls, a mini-stroller and equipment one might expect to see at the Cirque du Soleil. Hanging down from the ceiling is a spinning red-and-white fabric enclosure that looks like a cocoon; a monkey bar with two yellow rings to hold; and a long piece of HUFFINGTON 01.12.14 purple fabric, a swing. Max, a balletic child, is calmed by spinning, swinging and jumping, so these things are everywhere: a swing in the parents’ bedroom, a small trampoline in Max’s room. Every small movement in the house is picked up by an extensive intercom system. “If it’s too quiet,” Greg says, “we worry.” When Maya really lets her imagination run wild, she pictures Max as an independent adult. Employed as a grocery bagger. Or a mail sorter. Greg, a 51-year-old realtor, and Maya, a 35-year-old photographer, met in Denver in the fall of 2004 and married about two years later. She gave birth to Max, their first child, in November 2007, under normal circumstances. Max was late to a few milestones, like walking. So at 18 months, he was examined by a doctor from Early Stages, D.C. Public Schools’ diagnostic center. After that, the city sent thirdparty contractors — speech, physical and occupational therapists — to visit Greg and Maya’s yellow townhouse to work with Max on