When the Words Don’t Come — Rowen’s Journey with Childhood Apraxia of Speech

When my daughter Rowen was 18 months old, I began to notice she wasn’t meeting her speech milestones. Still, I wasn’t concerned. As the youngest of three siblings and a gaggle of older cousins, she was the baby of the family—and we all treated her that way. She was happy, and so were we.

She seemed to be hitting every other developmental milestone, and anything she wasn't doing yet, we just chalked up to being the youngest. “It’ll come,” we told ourselves.

By the time she turned two, I decided to bring it up at her pediatric appointment. Rowen had only spoken a few words—and even those were inconsistent. Her doctor gave us two options: wait and see, or start speech therapy. I figured therapy couldn’t hurt, and maybe being away from her chatty older sisters for a bit would give her the space to speak for herself.

She communicated just fine using gestures and expressions. She pointed, she showed us what she needed, and we always understood. I truly believed she just needed a little nudge.

But after eight months of speech therapy with minimal progress, my confidence started to waver. My husband and I stayed up late many nights, wondering why things weren’t getting better. Why wasn’t she speaking yet, even though she clearly understood us?

Then came the turning point: a phone call with her speech-language pathologist (SLP) ahead of her next evaluation. I pressed for insight. I’m a researcher at heart, and I had already been reading about various speech delays. That’s when I heard the words for the first time: Childhood Apraxia of Speech.

That moment marked the beginning of a new chapter.

I dove deep into understanding this complex motor speech disorder. And my first overwhelming thought was—how have I never heard of this?

Across our big, social family, filled with playdates and school events, not one person had ever mentioned this disorder. It was isolating. At the time, I truly believed Rowen might be the only child in Arkansas with CAS.

Fast forward just a few months, and I’ve already connected with several families whose children also have CAS—some even attend school with my older daughters. I’ve met grandparents, found online communities, and joined the Apraxia Kids Facebook group. These stories, these connections—they have been everything.

What I’ve learned since Rowen’s diagnosis is this: Awareness changes everything.

Every child deserves a voice. CAS requires a specific type of speech therapy from trained professionals. It requires patience, support, and early intervention. It’s not something children “outgrow.” But with the right tools, these kids can find their voices.

If you're just beginning this journey, know this: You are not alone.