Why won’t you talk to me?!!!!

rachael roberts - 2 Oct 16

Bouncing excitedly in his, erm, bouncer one afternoon, “Dada,” chuckled our 9 month old, sun shines out of his arse, first-born. “Oh My God! He’s talking! He’s a genius!” I exclaimed to his father. “He’s making noises at the cat,” said the miserable git. “Ha, ha,” I laughed. He’s a frigging genius, I thought.

Over the next few months, fairly regularly, the boy would shout “Dada” – at the cat, at a spoon, at complete strangers, occasionally at Dada.

We moved on to a greater repertoire of sounds and the first ‘proper’ words seemed imminent. When he was around 18 months old I arranged to take the boy to London for a few days on my own. “Oh man,” said Dad, “I bet I’m going to miss his first words. It’s going to be any day now”. “Yeah, you probably will,” I reassured him.

Our visit came and went without words. His second birthday came and went, still no talking.

It suddenly became noticeable that his little friends were starting to talk and Joe wasn’t. “He’ll just start talking in sentences”, “He’s just taking it all in”, “My cousin’s friend’s kid didn’t talk till he was like 14 and now he’s a nobel winning brain surgeon,” well meaning friends told me when I voiced my concerns that he was NEVER going to talk. (In retrospect, he was only two and it was probably a little early to draw this conclusion).

While I am the complete opposite of a tiger mum (the only ambitions I have for my children is that they are happy and not serial killers – but that’s what every parent wants, right?), I always rather arrogantly assumed that my child would be an early talker. Neither his father or I are backwards in coming forwards, I read books to him almost from day one, I talked to him ALL the time, it made no sense….

Initially I refused to make an issue over this – all kids are different I kept telling myself, and Joe was very developed in other ways, but I did start to worry. I worried that this was starting to cause him some frustration (and us, to be honest). Without a doubt, his behaviour was affected by his lack of communication skills. I used to watch the frustration building in him when he was unable to express himself. The fact that we were expecting another baby weighed heavily on me – how could this little boy possibly handle this upheaval when he had no words?

Some of the drugs Joseph takes for his cystic fibrosis can cause hearing loss. Although his hearing had been regularly checked and given the ok, I worried if they were missing something – hearing tests on a two year old are not terribly accurate.

One of the first noticeable indicators of autism is delayed speech. So I worried about that. And, of course, I worried that the weak shandy I enjoyed while I was pregnant was to blame. Had I broken my child?!

So, at around 2 and half, we bit the bullet and called the Health Visitor in. After meeting Joe she reassured us that there was nothing in his behaviour to suggest autism. So it was the shandy then..?

A visit from a speech therapist followed, who reminded us that he was still very young and they wouldn’t even consider speech therapy at this age. She also pointed out that Joe was copying the sounds of words – just not forming them, and left us with a list of ways to encourage him to talk. I was asked how Joe got what he wanted: “He points and shouts.” “And you respond to that?” “Well….yes.” “Mmm….try not to.” Now that’s easier said than done. From the minute he was born I have been anticipating his needs and responding to demands from this little despot. I am his parent – that’s what we do. Plus, he shouts really loudly. You try ignoring him, lady!

Third birthday came and went. No words. People, sometimes strangers (I mean nice old ladies in supermarkets, not strangers in grubby macs), would try to engage him in conversation. “He’s a little shy,” I would tell them when he stood there not answering their questions.

We started nursery. Still no talking. Nursery were completely nonplussed by this which did make me feel a little better.

Then one day, as we were leaving the house, Joe shouted “Bye” at his Dad out of the car window. We were on our way out to his friend’s house (same age), and got greeted at the door by his friend with “Awesome” – frigging smart arse! But still, we had the first words.

And then….nothing. Until, aged almost 3 and half, Joe started talking. All the important stuff in a few weeks…. ‘Mum’, ‘one more’, ‘no’. Within a couple of months he was talking in sentences.

We still think it’s likely that Joe will need some speech therapy – he has trouble enunciating and forming some sounds and, while I can understand him very easily, I know that other people struggle sometimes. However, he chatters away, sings songs and talks to the nice old ladies. With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I hadn’t worried quite so much about it. I wish I’d thought more about the things he could do instead of concerning myself so much with what he wasn’t doing. I wish I’d had more confidence in my son’s abilities. I wish I could have listened more to the side of me that believes every child is unique and different. I wish that I could have trusted that my boy would get where he needed to go in his own time, instead of comparing him to others.

A couple of weeks ago the ten month old, sun shines out of her arse, second-born was eating a newspaper off the floor, “Mama,” she shouted between mouthfuls, at the cat. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure she’s a genius…..

rachael roberts

Florist, business owner, mum to two, regular runner, frequent drinker. Swapped the bright (ish) lights of London in 2013 ,after the birth of my son, for a couple of acres in Scotland - chickens, ducks, veggie patch, more babies - all a bit "Good Life" with more internet shopping... www.cfbaby.co.uk

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