“Twenty-four carat magic in the AAAIIIIRRRR!” The vibrant sound echoed through the house as my four-year-old son, Max, stood in front of the radio, belting out the chorus with all the enthusiasm he could muster. My cousin recounted this charming moment after babysitting, astonished by Max’s joy and his spirited attempt to channel his inner Bruno Mars. This happened in November 2017, and I couldn’t help but smile at the image.
For many parents, hearing their little ones sing along to children’s songs is a commonplace occurrence, often met with a mix of pride and selective hearing. After all, who hasn’t tuned out the 1,000th rendition of “Let It Go”? However, as a mother of a child diagnosed with apraxia, each sound Max made was a cherished victory. Every syllable was a monumental achievement, and every word he uttered was worth celebrating.
Max was born on February 6, 2013, weighing just 5 pounds 4 ounces, and earned the nickname “little peanut” from the nursing staff. My pregnancy was a bit unusual; I wasn’t aware of it until my third trimester. While this didn’t qualify me for any reality TV shows, I certainly could have been a contender.
Despite the late discovery, everything seemed fine. Max thrived in his early years, reaching developmental milestones with ease. He rolled, ran, cooed, and then began to talk, showcasing his vibrant personality and infectious smile. I was captivated by his energy and charm, which is why, when I became a single mom when he was just 15 months old, I felt confident about managing motherhood alone.
However, when Max started daycare in August 2014 and caught his first cold, I soon learned about asthma. In the whirlwind of adjusting to my new life as a single parent—balancing graduate studies and a teaching career—I failed to notice Max’s “coos” and “boos” had disappeared. By October, he had stopped talking altogether.
With numerous doctor visits, we discovered that his cold had caused ear congestion, leading to bilateral tube placement just weeks before his second birthday. I assumed his speech would return, as he could hear. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. He struggled to replicate sounds and remained largely silent, prompting additional evaluations that led to recommendations for speech therapy.
That summer, we embraced sign language to communicate. Although the therapist managed some progress, Max still faced challenges. As a concerned mother, I sought further guidance and was introduced to the state’s birth-to-3 program, where Max received physical, occupational, and speech therapy.
At 2.5 years old, I was desperate for clarity regarding his condition. After thorough evaluations at a top developmental center, we finally received a diagnosis: childhood apraxia of speech. My heart sank as I grappled with feelings of guilt and confusion. Was it something I did during my pregnancy? I reached out to my sister, who encouraged me to research and strategize.
I learned that apraxia is a disconnect between the brain and body, affecting speech. Early intervention and therapy would be crucial, which meant more speech therapy sessions for Max. Thankfully, with my background in education and support from family members in special education, I was able to connect Max with the appropriate resources. In the spring of 2016, he began a private speech therapy program, and I remember the overwhelming joy I felt when he finally called me “Mommy” at three and a half.
Fast forward to recent months, and I was once again brought to tears as I watched a video of him serenading my mother with the “Happy Birthday” song for her 60th.
Max has truly blossomed. His natural charisma fills every room, and music has been a powerful tool in unlocking his voice. He often strums his guitar, headphones on, singing with abandon. Aware of his apraxia, he patiently waits for others to comprehend his words, repeating himself when necessary. As he prepares for kindergarten, he is learning to use his AAC device, and I can hardly wait for the world to witness all that he is capable of.
For anyone navigating similar challenges, I recommend exploring resources like Hopkins Medicine for invaluable insights into speech therapy and early intervention. Additionally, if you’re considering family planning options, our piece on the at-home insemination kit can provide helpful guidance.
In conclusion, the journey may be fraught with challenges, but with support, determination, and a little bit of magic—just like in music—our children can find their voices.