Unexpected Joys

Moose has really been trying to talk a lot more lately. Not just single words, not just repeating words we tell him to say, but spontaneously stringing together a few words at a time. I don’t understand what he’s saying half the time, but still! That in and of itself is a great joy. But I’ve discovered that I’ve found joy in something else I wasn’t really expecting.

I’m finally getting an idea of what his voice sounds like! I know to most people, this wouldn’t be a big deal, and for most parents of almost-four-year-olds, it probably wouldn’t even make sense. How can you not know, after all that time, what your own child’s voice sounds like?

But, when all you get is one word at a time, and not on any kind of regular basis, and when even that word is a struggle to get out, you don’t know. You wonder what a normal speaking voice sounds like for your child. Sure, I’m well acquainted with his shrieks, because that’s been his only really way to express negative emotions outside of crying, and I know (kind of) what his babbling voice sounds like. But now I’m learning what his speaking voice sounds like. And I’m even learning that he often purses his lips in a very certain way when he’s really trying to talk. And I’ve found a great deal of joy in these discoveries. As much as I feel like autism has taken from him (and us), I also know I never would have found this kind of elation in something so simple if autism wasn’t a part of our lives.

I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, and let me tell you, it is a beautiful sound!

And So It Begins

Today is the day I fill out the paperwork so that we can get Moose evaluated for Early Intervention. I’m not really sure how I feel about this. Obviously, I would like him to be talking–he is two and a half, after all. I honestly don’t know if I think something is really wrong with him, or if he just has two older siblings that never let him get a word in edgewise, but I figured I better make the call now, before he turns three and is no longer eligible for E.I.

I have been informed that today’s appointment will just be paperwork. An hour’s worth. Oh joy. And I don’t know if they’ll schedule the evaluation today while they’re here, or if that’s something that will be done next week after they process the paperwork. After that, I don’t know how long it will take them to get our here and do the evaluation, but given that it only took a week from when I called for the paperwork appointment, I’m assuming they move faster here than I’ve heard they do in other areas. Or, maybe they’re just fast with the paperwork, and it will take forever for the evaluation. Heck, he might be three before they ever get to him–I just don’t know how this all works.

Anyway, the nice thing is, they do everything in the home, so that the child is in his most comfortable environment. I don’t have to worry about packing up all four children and taking them somewhere; I don’t have to worry about the older children interrupting whatever therapy he may need; I don’t have to worry about finding a sitter. These are all good things.

What I am worried about, though, is what they’re going to tell me. I’ve done enough research to know at least some of the conditions that can cause a speech delay, and frankly, it scares me. I also know that I shouldn’t put the cart before the house, because some children truly just don’t talk until they want to. I am curious as to how they’re going to diagnose him, if at all. On a good day, Moose doesn’t do anything that he doesn’t want to do. I’m going to assume they’re used to working with stubborn children, but I’m afraid if he’s not feeling cooperative, not only will they think he can’t talk, but that he doesn’t understand anything either, which is not true.

I guess I’m going to have to leave it to the professionals to figure out–that’s why I called them, after all. A big part of me feels guilty for not calling sooner, but what mother wants to admit that something is wrong with her child? I really kept thinking that he’d just start talking one day, but as we edge closer to the three year mark, I guess he needs some encouragement at the least.

I’d appreciate any prayers as we begin this process–the uncertain can be a scary thing, but sometimes, the known is even worse (depending on what it is).

Being a mommy hurts, sometimes.