Birthday Boy

 

Last weekend we celebrated my little boy's seventh birthday. I can't believe he's seven! I think he will always be my baby. I love when he comes and snuggles under my chin and he still has a sweet voice that reminds me of when he was a toddler. Being my youngest and last baby, I think his birthdays are always bittersweet; just a reminder of how long it's been since I birthed a child.

His birth was such a transformative experience. Birthing him at home, in my own bed, almost entirely unassisted (our midwife arrived 10 minutes before his arrival) made me feel so powerful. I don't think I realized what my body was really capable of until I surrendered to the experience and trusted my body. Raising a child with special needs has also taught me strength I didn't know I had. I once wallowed in the idea that my child would be handicapped by a motor processing disorder. I often blamed myself though Apraxia in children doesn't have a single known cause. Again, once I trusted in my child to succeed and I turned from a worrier to an advocate, those years of Apraxia treatment became transformative. 

He makes me so proud. He's so sweet and kind. When we play games together, even if it isn't a cooperative game, he tries to help out others so there are no "losers". He's silly and wild. Sometimes I have to remind myself that his boundless energy is a good thing. Though he struggles with language arts, he has a very scientifically inclined mind. He absorbs facts about nature and animals and will teach me things I've completely forgotten or sometimes even things I never knew. I love him endlessly.

Childhood Apraxia of Speech

 About a year after I stopped writing here some concerns popped up with F. At his two year well visit our doctor expressed concern that he wasn’t developing speech as expected. By age 2 the guidelines are for children to have about 20 words, even if they are only understood by their parents. F had 3 and I was one of the few who could determine whether he was saying “da” for Dad or “duh” for dog. And we also noticed he could not purse his lips to blow out a candle or blow bubbles. It was time to seek early intervention.

I must say that the speech language pathologists we met were all wonderful. They were very patient with a frustrated little boy and worried mama. Regardless of diagnosis, early and intensive speech therapy has been shown to have excellent outcomes for most children with a speech language disorder. 

This is when I discovered the incredible misunderstanding of politicians and health officials when it came to early intervention. We live in Canada where we pay into a universal healthcare plan. At the time we paid $150 per month to be covered. This is supposed to include services like early intervention and speech therapy. However, Island Health only receives a fraction of the funds required to provide this service. Not enough SLPs are employed to meet the needs of the community and as a result the clients in the programs are not receiving critical care. Children with speech language disorders are generally recommended to attend speech therapy at least twice a week. We received one appointment every few months. It was unbelievable. The delay in receiving treatment could mean the difference between communicating at the same level as their peers or requiring assistance for the rest of their lives.

At age 3, we were given a diagnosis of Childhood Apraxia of Speech for F. CAS is a motor planning disorder. It means his brain knows what it wants and needs to do to produce speech but somewhere along the line the message gets confused and the muscles don’t work as planned. Children with CAS have no problem with intelligence. They simply cannot get the messages to the muscles they need to communicate.

Treatment for Childhood Apraxia of Speech is intense speech therapy so F saw a SLP three to two times a week. As government supplied therapy could not meet his needs we sought out private therapy. We experienced a lot of tears and a lot of triumphs. After many years and lots of hard work by F he was able to build the neural pathways required to speak at the same level as his peers.

He is not cured by any means, it is a life long condition. As he grows and his vocabulary expands, learning to pronounce new words will be a continued challenge. But I know he has the will rise to every challenge.

Below are some pictures of F in his therapy sessions. Look at the pride on his face. Being understood meant so much for him. I know he had so much to share and as he gained the skills to share his thoughts he (and I as well) was filled with joy.