“She’s just quirky.”, “She loves accessorizing!”, “She must be cold.”; this was my repertoire of justifications, every time Gia would come marching out of her room in an entire outfit that would include a jacket, a hat, a scarf, 5 headbands, 3 necklaces, 2 pairs of socks, and even a pair of gloves. It didn’t matter if it was winter or summer, she had this overwhelming desire to cover her body from head to toe. This didn’t happen all the time, but rather in very sudden, and explosive spurts. She would go to various areas of the house, seeking out items to consume her little frame, and it didn’t even have to be clothes; she would sit in a hamper, put a box over her head, or wrap her arm in string. I’ll be honest, it was weird, but it was Gia! My son, Nick always took life a little more seriously, insisted on doing things perfectly, and generally didn’t see much outside the box. Gia on the other-hand, was my free-spirit, she was confident, independent, and did EVERYTHING outside the box, and I loved this about her! All kids are different, right? Well yes, but as Gia got older, I noticed these “quirky habits” were brinking on the edge of obsession. Other caretakers in Gia’s life began to take notice. The very first daycare she went to, gave her a cute little red basket with toy fruit for Christmas. I think their exact explanation for the gift was, “We know she likes to put baskets on her head!” Continue reading
Gia’s speech therapist had seen Apraxia in children before, and couldn’t help but notice some of the “typical” signs in Gia. As strong as her feelings were, she regrettably admitted that this was not something she was qualified to diagnose, or even provide therapy for. She explained that this wasn’t your typical speech delay, but that it was a neurological speech disorder, that would require years of intensive “drill” therapy by a specialized therapist. As I held back tears, I asked, “What does this mean for Gia’s future?” With a smile on her face, she replied, “Gia has a bright future!” She felt confident that someday, she will sound just like her peers, and this will all be a thing of the past. In the same breath, she was honest with us, and said this would be a very long road, and our lives will revolve around her treatment. “I’m going to refer you over to a place called The Foundations Developmental House, who specializes in Apraxia”, she said. “They will be able to help Gia”.
My husband and I were quiet on the way home. At that moment, we both needed to process this information on our own. We went to this meeting with very different views about Gia, but left with the same heart-breaking news. I went through a range of emotions on the 15 minute drive home, but as I sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, I cried silent tears of relief. I finally knew how to help my daughter, my husband and I would finally be on the same page, and I could finally leave the months of denial behind me. Continue reading