Parenting can be an incredible journey, but for some, it comes with unique challenges. While some children are quick to pick up words and phrases, others take a different path. We found ourselves waiting, hoping that our little one would soon start speaking. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and while other kids around us began to chatter and make sounds, our child remained quiet. The worry began to creep in, but we thought he would find his voice in time. Then, things took a turn for the worse—head banging, hitting, and biting became part of our daily lives. The initial concern morphed into a deeper anxiety as we navigated a lengthy wait for help from the system, which only added to our frustrations.
By the time our son turned two, he could only say a few words, and his ability to use them in different contexts was severely limited. He could communicate “up” when playing with his toy car but struggled to ask for a hug. His behavior became increasingly aggressive, and we began to realize that the challenges we were facing were more significant than we had anticipated. Speech and language disorders like childhood apraxia are rarely discussed, leaving many parents feeling isolated.
We were fortunate enough to have attended several talks by a speech and language pathologist during his early months, but I initially brushed off the warnings, thinking, “That won’t be us.” Yet, as time passed, it became clear that our vibrant and intelligent toddler was grappling with frustrations he couldn’t express. The head banging, biting, and meltdowns were distressing, not just for him but for us as his parents.
Through this journey, I often wished that others could see beyond the surface—that they could understand our struggles instead of judging us. I would watch my son play with his truck while other parents chatted easily, but I remained tense, always on high alert for the moment when playtime would escalate into chaos. I felt terrible for the children who were inadvertently hurt, for my son, and for myself. I often wondered what others thought—did they see him as just a “bad” kid? Did they recognize that he was fighting a battle with communication that they couldn’t see?
In those moments of frustration, when he couldn’t articulate what he wanted, he resorted to hitting or throwing. Some days, I dreaded playgroups, contemplating whether to skip them altogether. Yet, I knew he needed the social interaction, so we persevered.
There were moments of joy too—like when he’d come home from daycare bubbling with words or when a speech therapy session went well. Those moments lifted my spirits, but they were often followed by a stark reminder of our reality when I saw other kids his age articulating stories and thoughts effortlessly.
I never imagined that our journey would include such challenges. As a parent, you hope for a smooth ride—healthy pregnancies, typical development, and joyful milestones. Speech delays weren’t something I worried about, especially when compared to other potential difficulties. Yet, this experience has been one of the toughest challenges I’ve faced. Watching my child struggle to communicate is heart-wrenching. It’s lonely to stand among others and not have the words to connect.
Slowly but surely, his speech began to improve, even if it sometimes felt like we were still far behind. When we reviewed his assessment and saw that he had met some of his goals, it was cause for celebration. However, new goals emerged, and I was reminded that we still had a long way to go. Now nearing four years old, he communicates more instead of resorting to aggression, and he shares delightful stories about his day. The memories of head banging and screaming linger, but they are becoming less frequent.
During those difficult times, I tried to empathize with him, knowing his frustration was magnitudes greater than mine. It’s a struggle when you can’t express what you think or feel, and sometimes I felt like I was missing out on the magic of parenting because he couldn’t share it with me.
Our speech pathologist often jokes that one day I’ll wish he would stop talking, but deep down, I know that’s never going to happen. I cherish our conversations and the connections they foster. Communication is a fundamental human ability; without it, we feel isolated.
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In summary, the experience of raising a child with a speech delay is filled with emotional ups and downs. It requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to connect beyond words. As we continue this journey, we celebrate every small victory while acknowledging the challenges that remain.