As a professional, I used to notice red flags when a child struggled to follow rules or needed significant support for behavior or routines. I thought my years of training across different school systems and age groups had prepared me to be a well-rounded mom, one who would catch any of those red flags with my own kids.
When my firstborn arrived, I thought I had done everything right. He had all the tummy time, we read every book, and I was constantly engaging with him. At his well-child checkups, the doctor would reassure me: “Ms. Ana, it’s COVID. Don’t worry about the questionnaire. I don’t expect him to meet all his milestones right now.”
But I was a professional, I knew better.
When Fernando still wasn’t walking at 18 months, I asked for a referral to therapy and ECI. But ECI never came. By 24 months, I was concerned that his word count was low. He wasn’t using phrases to communicate, just repeating lines from cartoons. Again, I asked for a referral. Again, no services, just a phone call telling me that the therapist waitlist was over a year and a half.
At age three, Fernando started school. He was finally evaluated for speech therapy, and I saw a light. Then, in November 2022, we received his diagnosis. Suddenly, so many things began to make sense. And yes, I mourned the idea of the little boy I had imagined during my pregnancy.
But once we had answers, I jumped in with speech, physical, and occupational therapy. And something shifted in me. I stopped comparing. I started celebrating.
The day Fernando came up to me and said, “I want milk, pweeeseee,” was one of the happiest moments of my motherhood journey. It may sound small, or even silly, to others. But for a mom of a child with developmental delays, hearing her four-year-old express his wants and needs was pure joy.
From then on, I celebrated every win: walking up stairs using both feet, unzipping his jacket on his own, using a spoon without spilling half the food. These moments aren’t small to me, they’re everything.
Although my journey is rooted in developmental disabilities, the lessons I’ve learned apply to many parenting experiences, especially for families navigating pediatric brain injury or other developmental challenges. Whether it's autism, a brain injury, or another diagnosis, the emotional rollercoaster, the advocacy, and the joy found in progress are universal. These reflections and suggestions are meant to support any caregiver walking a similar path.
