What my son with apraxia has taught me

A little over two years ago, I was first introduced to the term "childhood apraxia of speech." My son was nearly two, had been in early intervention and speech therapy for over six months, and was not making any progress. His speech therapist cautiously suggested that although it was too soon to make a true diagnosis, what she saw in him, and in the kinds of things he was struggling with, was consistent with childhood apraxia of speech, a motor speech disorder (not a developmental delay) in which children have difficulty controlling the muscles required to make sounds, syllables, and words and may also have trouble with activities like eating and even blowing bubbles.

Over the next two years, we saw more and more evidence that CAS was his particular struggle - his struggle to learn new sounds, his tendency to replace difficult sounds with the same easier one, his eating struggles as an infant, the fact that he could understand so much more than he could say, his unnatural hesitation between words or syllables as he groped for the right sound. He continued in early intervention until he was three, and then qualified for continued speech therapy, three days a week, through our local school district with an amazing speech therapist.

When he began the public school services at the age of three, I could still list on a piece of paper the words he could say. Now, a year later, I can't. His language has exploded, and I find myself saying something I never thought I would: "Sweetie, stop talking!" He still has a long way to do with learning new sounds and flowing from sound to sound without those unnatural hesitations. But he has come so far and learned so much.

And I have, too. I have learned a lot about childhood apraxia of speech, of course, and a lot about speech therapy. And I have learned a lot about my son, but the lessons I have learned in the last two years go far beyond my ability to communicate with him. If you have a child with a speech disorder, maybe you can relate as well.

I've learned to listen better. When he talks, my son demands that I stop what I am doing and look him in the eye with all of my attention on what he is saying. When I do, I understand him better - and it is a skill I should be using all the time with others, too!

I've learned that the ability to communicate with words is not everything. I'm a communication snob, I admit. I love words, both spoken and written, and tend to value the ability to use them over other skills. But my son uses other ways to show his love, his intelligence, and his sense of humor, and I have learned to embrace that, both in him and others.

I've learned to focus on his strengths. So what if talking is hard? My son is great at so many other things. All kinds of sports. Making things out of Legos. Making people laugh. I need to focus on helping him grow in and celebrate his strengths as well as improve in his weaknesses.

I've learned (again) that there is strength in numbers. Apraxia is not a well-known disorder. I've gotten much support from other parents walking this same road, especially in a Facebook group established by CASANA, the Childhood Apraxia of Speech Association of North America. If you are a parent looking for information or support, I highly recommend them!

I've learned to understand his language. Because some sounds are hard for him, some of the words he uses are a mystery...at first. But if I listen harder, I can understand him. I need to remember to do that with others, too, who may have a different "love language" than I do.

I've learned that just because he doesn't talk much doesn't mean he doesn't understand. We homeschool with Classical Conversations, which involves a lot of oral memorization. I have been concerned about how well he would do when he is old enough to participate in our weekly classes, but then my eight-year-old daughter pursued becoming a "Memory Master" this year, which involved a LOT of listening to and practicing the songs for our memory work...and suddenly in the process, we realized that our son was singing along with her - on the Presidents song, the timeline song, and even a history sentence about taxes, slavery and unemployment (he chimes in when the wolf howls in the background - CC parents will understand!). Not clearly, and sometimes without words, but he had been learning all along, and enjoying himself immensely.

I've learned to be persistent. I remember one time recently when we tried for about fifteen minutes to figure out what he was trying to say until we realized (thanks mostly to his big sister!) that he wanted to go to Chik-Fil-A! I could have given up, but if I want to understand my son's heart, I can't. And I am learning to apply that persistence to the other areas of my life, too.

I've learned that lots of problems are invisible. Whether it is apraxia or autism or pregnancy loss or diabetes or cancer or something else, lots of people are struggling with something that can't be seen by the casual observer. And because I can't see what people are struggling with, I need to offer grace.

I've learned to pray. Not that I didn't pray before, but having a child with special needs has taught me to pray in new ways, rejoicing in each little victory, and asking for strength in different areas. 

Childhood apraxia of speech is a challenge we never anticipated when our son was born, but we have seen so many blessings in the midst of it.
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What about you?