When my son "Z" was in kindergarten, I started noticing he wasn't on the same level academically as his fraternal twin brother.

He seemed to have trouble with reading. He couldn't remember certain words even after having seen them repeatedly. He kept reversing certain letters, such as b and d. He couldn't pronounce certain sounds, such as r's and p's. And while reading, he kept adding letters to words that weren't there.

Knowing children learn at different levels, I did not immediately become worried. I addressed my concerns with his kindergarten teacher, but she too was not immediately concerned.

Little did I know my son was suffering from a disorder that effects the way the brain processes auditory information.

We hired Z a tutor over the summer. When he started first grade, I hoped his tutoring and just general development would have caught him up to the other students. Sadly, there was no improvement, and he continued to struggle with phonics.

It soon became clear that Z was not learning at the same pace as his peers. We had his hearing and eyesight checked. His hearing was fine. His eyesight was also normal, but he had strabismus in both eyes. We scheduled him for eye surgery.

Meanwhile, I brought up my concerns with his first grade teacher, and she agreed with me. Z was not learning at the same pace as the other students. He was bright, articulate, participated in class, had a great attitude and worked well with his peers. But he still couldn't read.

His teacher suggested we hold a student success team (SST) meeting. At the meeting, I discussed my concerns about Z, and we decided Z would be assessed for an individualized education plan (IEP).

Z again received private tutoring in the summer between first and second grade. His assessment testing for the IEP did not occur until the beginning of the second grade.

By this time, Z had undergone two eye surgeries to correct his strabismus, but we still had no see any improvement in his reading skills. He was testing two grade levels below normal. I was hoping the IEP testing would reveal what was causing Z to struggle so much.

Z scored so well on the IEP tests he fell into the highly intelligent category. They told me he was progressing fine, and it was just a developmental issue. They told me he would "grow out of it" and deemed my son ineligible for services.

This is when my mother's instinct kicked in. I knew there was something wrong with my son's ability to read. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it was something. Too much time had passed, and I had seen no improvement.

At second grade open house, I was walking around my son's classroom. On the wall were all of the students wishes. I found Z's wish: "I wish I could read like my brother." I struggled not to cry. I just wanted my son to be able to read, too. I vowed at that moment to never stop fighting until I had obtained the services my son needed.

I objected to the IEP and asked for an independent educational evaluation (IEE). The IEE took place over the summer between second and third grade. We really liked the evaluator. She spent a lot of time talking to us and to Z, and she spent several hours testing and interviewing him. We felt confident she would be able to figure out what was wrong and that she would recommend services.

She did not. She said he was intelligent and articulate and had minor issues that did not require services. I couldn't understand why so many people could not see what I could see. I objected to the results of the IEE. I was sent to due process.

I am a lawyer by trade, so I figured I could handle a due process hearing. But several nights before the hearing, I was reviewing all of the paperwork when I realized I was out of my league. I needed to get help, and quick.

I obtained the name of an education attorney with 30 years of experience and made an appointment. I brought every test and scrap of paper on my son. The lawyer said the school was wrong, of course he needed services.

She suggested Z had central auditory processing disorder (CAPD). I had never heard the term before. She put me in touch with an audiologist who could test my son. And she took my son's case.

Z's CAPD test lasted four hours. He sat in a sound booth and listened to different tones. It didn't hurt, and he was a willing participant. After the test, the audiologist confirmed that my son had CAPD.

She explained that when you and I learn something for the first time, we store it in a box in our brain for when we encounter that same thing again. When Z learned something new, he also stored it in a box in his brain. But when he encountered that same new thing again, he put it in a different box in his brain. He didn't recall the information from the first time he had learned it.

Z's ears and brain were not coordinated. She also told me Z couldn't hear certain high frequencies. These two things combined made it difficult for Z to learn new sounds and recall them for future use. The audiologist also told me there were ways to teach Z that would enable him to learn just like everyone else.

I was never so happy to hear my child had a disorder. Finally, I could put my finger on what I had been seeing and give it a name. Now I had a starting point.

My son is in the fifth grade now and receives many services that assist him. He still struggles with reading but has made tremendous progress. The one thing I learned out of all of this was to always trust my mother's instinct. No one knows my child better than I do.