Strong, Silent Type

Lots of you have been kind enough to ask how S. is doing with his therapies, so I thought I'd write an update.

I wish I had a dime for every well-meaning person who has said, "My friend's/cousin's/hairdresser's son didn't say a word until he was 3, and then one day he just started speaking in full sentences! So will your son!" While I hoped that S., too, was just a "late talker", he was recently diagnosed with a speech disorder called apraxia. It is a neurological disorder in which the brain does not send the proper signals a child needs to produce articulate speech. He will be 2 1/2 next week and his speech is at the level of a 1-year-old. He has a small handful of words, and is not always intelligible. He can not produce certain sounds or letters at all yet. He receives speech therapy 5 times per week, and every day at home I am reinforcing the techniques the therapists have taught me.

Since my older child had some developmental delays, having a child who is not "typically developing" is nothing new to me. The lows can be very low, but the highs are amazing beyond compare (I've posted about that before). On the tough days, it can be very sad, stressful, and isolating. It has been all the more so for me for reasons I can not elaborate here. I am very lucky that my parents, sister, and friends are an amazing source of support. And, there is a certain black humor that exists among parents of special needs kids. My friend J. (also the mother of a special-needs son) and I speak on the phone weekly about our kids' latest progress (or lack thereof). Sometimes we start out crying, but by the end of our call we are laughing hysterically.

Anyway, while there is no way to predict what will happen when with S's speech, there have been some good signs recently. He has had more "pop-outs", which is a term for these spooky moments when he suddenly blurts out a word perfectly, as if he were 10 years old. This is a common symptom of apraxic children. Then, just as suddenly, the word disappears for weeks or months. In the last few weeks, S. has suddenly blurted out "together," "that way," and "Dora," each one time. He hasn't said them since.

I grab those moments fiercely, and grab my son and give him a great big hug. He laughs and hugs back and says, "ayyyyyyye," which I am going to translate as, "Wasn't that cool?" It sure is.