Wishing for Words Wednesday

If you were hoping to see a "Wordless Wednesday" picture-only post, you've come to the wrong blog. Instead, I find myself feeling quite the opposite sentiment -- wishing we weren't wordless. In past months, I've mentioned that Ariana was saying two words: "hi" and "mama" and sometimes even "dada" on the regular. However, over the last several months, I regret to inform that she has stopped saying these words altogether. As much as I try to get her to imitate my words, Ari only responds by making incoherent noises, such as "eshhh," "usss," or "eh." Despite my desperation to hear words where there are none, Ari rarely ever comes close to imitating a sound anymore. The closest she comes is imitating a sneeze by spitting. That isn't to say that Ari is not vocal; she is very vocal. She has different tones to her grunts, gurgles, whines, and giggles that very clearly communicate her wants and needs. That is not the problem. The problem is that my nearly 2 year old girl isn't talking... not even a little.

So, I've been thinking about this a lot more lately. And in doing so, I've find myself wondering why I haven't thought about it hardly ever until now. Maybe it's because Gabe was barely learning words back then, versus how now he practically holds his own in conversation, and the disparity is so much more obvious. Maybe it's because Ari was saying words before, however few, so I just assumed the learning curve would be more gradual. Maybe it's because everyone (including the doctors) always seem to be so concerned with whether or not Ariana will eventually walk on her own, but no one has ever mentioned talking. Maybe I have just ignorantly assumed that all children with an intellect and awareness as strong as Ari's (despite her Cerebral Palsy) eventually talk. Recently, it has been becoming harder to neglect the thoughts.

Yesterday, I was talking to someone who was asking about Ariana's progress. Right away, she asked me if Ari was learning to walk yet. I have grown really accustomed to this conversation by now, and I informed her that Ari was probably several years off from learning to walk, but she knows how to roll and is getting really good at sitting. In an well-intentioned attempt at giving me encouragement, this person shared a story with me about a seven year old boy she knows very well who has Cerebral Palsy and is learning to walk with a walker. She went on to say that he is very aware and intelligent and he can understand everything that is said to him, but he can't talk. Not even a little? No, not at all, but he does use a couple hand signs. That's when I realized -- Ari may never talk.

This, for me, would be so much harder than if Ari never walked. I know that if I had to choose one or the other disability for myself (not walking or not talking), it would be a no brainer. I mean, the use of legs for walking is, in so many ways, cursory (of course, it would be miraculous if Ariana did walk). But words are the true windows to the soul. This is especially true when the dexterity of Ariana's hands (especially her right) is far worse than her oral motor coordination, thus ruling out effective sign language.

But this is a new year. And as always, anything can happen. So if you don't mind, this Wednesday, wish with me for the end of wordlessness (Ari's that is), and maybe it will come true.