Apraxia Awareness Day: 2025

Part 1. How it started.

It’s May 14th. And for the first time in over a decade, Apraxia wasn’t the first thing on my mind when I woke up this morning.

If you’re a parent reading this—new to the journey, struggling, feeling discouraged—please hear me: there is light. There is hope.

Right now, it might seem a million steps away, impossible to reach. But I promise—every step is progress.

We are officially 12 years into our Apraxia Adventure. Today, I’m looking back. I’m remembering those first hours, days, and months—the uncertainty, the questions, the determination. I’m sharing our story so that anyone walking this path alongside us knows they’re not alone.

No matter where you are in your journey, I see you. I understand you. And I’m here to tell you—this journey is hard, but it is also filled with hope.

After several hours, our little man made his debut. Into a bright and noisy world, yet silence. I waited anxiously for a cry that took much too long. After the longest seconds of our life, we heard a delightful scream that shook the walls! A brief look and he was rushed off for observation. Later I would find out he had aspirated and required his lungs to be cleared. After a few hours of observation, he was ready to begin feeding. He’s just fine. Stop worrying.

We spent hours figuring out how to latch, suck, and swallow. Upon pure exhaustion, I asked the nurse to bottle feed. I could sense the frustration she had with me as she felt I gave up too soon, and said all babies have difficulties at first. But I knew. It ended up taking us several months to figure out the suck-swallow pattern. We spent our life savings on every bottle, medical test, coach, and formula. In true fashion, as you will soon see, one day little man just woke up and figured it out. He’s just fine. Stop worrying.

Fast forward several months, and around the age of six months our pediatrician said we could go ahead and start exploring use of a spoon. This was around the same time he discovered how to rock back and forth on all fours. I remember the couch, the blue spoon, the purple bumbo seat, the rice cereal. I gave him his first bite and out it came! He had no idea what to do with his tongue or how to coordinate his lips. I spoke to an OT friend and I remember her telling me, it’s ok, all babies have difficulties at first and his brain is probably just busy figuring out his next gross motor skill. But I knew. After taking a break, trying different spoons, and different food textures, little man just woke up and figured it out. He’s just fine. Stop worrying.

Around nine months old and we are eating all the foods! But that’s odd, we still haven’t figured out crawling despite all the practicing we have been doing. We had been employing all the tricks, but he was still requiring a lot of support with planning his movements. Again, our pediatrician encouraged us that he was still within the normal range of development and said we could get set up with OT or PT at 12 months if we still hadn’t made progress. We crawled before age 1 and walked by age 15 months. But I knew. In true fashion, after months of practice, little man just woke up and figure it out. He’s just fine. Stop worrying.

By a year old, I started to noticed his voice. Sounds were limited and the distinction between a cry and laugh was indistinguishable. Words and sounds would come and go throughout the year. My career was based upon child development. I knew there was a range for development, but I knew. It was his second birthday. We were getting ready to blow out the candles on his birthday cake. “Happy Birthday to You….” Silence. Candles still lit despite all his best efforts. I KNEW. He’s not fine. I need to worry.

Chatting casually one day with a SLP friend at a party, I mentioned Connor’s (lack) of words, sounds, and oral motor movements. She kindly encouraged me to do what my mind had been telling me all along- talk to your pediatrician and get set up with Early Childhood Intervention. At our two year well check we completed the developmental checklist. I didn’t even have to ask, we were immediately referred for OT, PT, and Speech therapy.

We would spend a couple months with ECI, receiving the max services they would allow for speech therapy. One day, our amazing SLP said to me, “you should seek out a private therapist.” I could see in her eyes and hear in her voice, something wasn’t right. I already knew, but I didn’t have a name for what exactly I already knew. I agreed and asked for any guidance on what I should look for in a private therapist. That’s when I heard the word for the very first time. Apraxia. Specifically, Childhood Apraxia of Speech. A simple word that was about to change our world forever. But I knew. And what does “fine” even mean anyway.

12 years. He’s doing better than fine. And for the first time, I’m not worrying (too much at least!).

Part 2. How we are doing. COMING SOON