divorce, which she filed for on December 9, 2008, stating that “the marriage has broken down irretrievably and there is no possibility of getting back together.” According to court records Nancy checked yes for financial disputes but no for parenting disputes as reasons for the split.
Adam didn’t take the news of his parents’ latest separation well. He was also upset by the prospect of another move. Nancy had been openly contemplating moving to Avon, Connecticut, a town sixty miles upstate, which would mean a whole new environment for Adam—something he found deeply unsettling.
In addition, a growing distance had developed between Adam and his brother, Ryan, four years his senior. Unlike Adam, Ryan was socially well adjusted, one of the popular kids at Newtown High. He had recently gotten a car, too, and like most teens, began spending more time away from home, hanging out with friends. It wouldn’t be much longer before Adam’s popular older brother would graduate from high school and go on to Quinnipiac University, leaving him alone in the house with his mother.
Adam, Nancy explained to friends, sees the world differently. The tantrums were just his way of coping. Still, she noticed thatthe anxiety building inside Adam appeared to be gaining momentum. The outbursts were becoming more extreme, and what had started out as another typical episode that fall morning in 2006 had quickly morphed into something far more disturbing. Adam began hyperventilating and at times appeared unresponsive. There was something about his behavior that frightened Nancy. She was at a complete loss and feared her son was having a nervous breakdown. She corralled him into her car and drove him to Danbury Hospital.
Once in the emergency room, Nancy told the doctors that her son had been experiencing an increasing amount of anxiety. He was panicking at the idea of going to school and being placed in large groups of people. She also explained his hypersensitivity to touch caused by his sensory perception disorder.
Adam couldn’t always recognize physical pain or hot and cold temperatures like most children, but he could easily be overwhelmed by the fabrics of his own clothes as they brushed up against his skin or the texture of food inside his mouth as he chewed. The slightest involuntary touch from another person was sometimes enough to make him withdraw for hours.
Nancy wondered aloud whether her son had outgrown what had previously been diagnosed as borderline autism into something much more extreme. “Something is very wrong with him,” she told the doctor, imploring them to help her with her son.
The attending physician was not nearly as alarmed as the nervous mother. Adam had been handed a questionnaire to fill out. One question asked: “Are you suicidal?” He checked no. Another asked: “Would you hurt others?” Again, Adam answered no.
After the doctor had finished examining him, asking severalmore questions while Nancy waited in another room, he concluded that the young boy wasn’t a danger to himself or to others, and was free to leave. No medication was needed, Nancy was told, but she should be sure to follow up later with her family pediatrician.
Nancy wasn’t having it and demanded an explanation. She had gone to school counselors, specialists, her family physician, and now an emergency room doctor, and no one could give her an answer—worse, no one seemed to be taking her concerns seriously.
“This isn’t normal behavior,” she insisted to the doctor.
Before leaving the emergency room Nancy asked for one more thing: a note to give to the school that would allow her to keep him at home for the remainder of his eighth-grade year. At home, Nancy believed, she could nurture her son into an improved state of mind and better prepare him for high school. The doctor refused.
I t was clear from an early age that Adam Lanza was different. His aversion to social activities became apparent by age four. He rarely