Communication: Life Without Words

 


For years, one of the hardest parts of this journey has been the silence. Not silence in the way most people think, because Wyatt’s world is full of laughter, sounds, and movement. But silence in the sense that I’ve never truly known what’s on his mind. I’ve never known if he liked the food I made, or how he felt about the little things in his day.


Our “conversations” have always been through gestures. Wyatt would take my hand and lead me to what he wanted. That was our language, and while it worked, my heart always ached for more...for a way to hear his voice.


A few days ago, something incredible happened: I got word that Wyatt’s secondary insurance approved his AAC device. This device will give him the chance to communicate in a way he hasn’t been able to before. I can’t even put into words what that means to me.


But here’s the part that’s almost magical..while we wait for that device, Wyatt has been finding his own voice.


Over the last few weeks, he’s been saying new words, new phrases. Most of them have been about food and drinks, and to anyone else, they might seem like tiny things. But to me? They’re everything.


One of the most beautiful things about autism is how it teaches you to celebrate what others might overlook. Every word, every sound, is a victory.


This past week, when Wyatt eats or drinks something, he’ll say, “It’s yummy!” or “It’s good!” These phrases may sound small, but they’re monumental to me. For years, I’ve wondered if he liked the meals I prepared or if they brought him any joy. Half the time, he wouldn’t even touch what I made.


And then yesterday, there was pizza.


Wyatt has been on a pizza kick lately... a huge win in itself. As he took his first bite of a slice, he looked up, eyes bright, and shouted, “It’s yummy!” I felt tears well up immediately. Right there, I felt the weight of all those years of waiting, hoping, and praying for moments like this.


These words, simple as they are, are more precious than gold to me. They’re proof that his voice is there, just waiting to shine through. With every “yummy” and “it’s good,” I see a little more of his world - and it’s beautiful.


The AAC device will soon bring us even more opportunities to connect. But for now, I’m holding on tight to these moments. I’m celebrating every single word.


Because in our house, “It’s yummy” is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard


Kerri

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