Things I wish I knew about navigating a speech delay as a new mom!

It’s no secret that being a parent is tough. And, having a speech-delayed child can make a challenging job that much more complicated. Between doctors’ appointments, assessments, waitlists and therapy sessions, your own needs as a parent are often an afterthought. You want to find a way to help your child—and that’s what your world revolves around. I learned firsthand how exhausting it can be. Looking back, I wish someone had asked how I was doing while I was navigating this myself because deep down, I was numbing all of my emotions to make space for my son.

But like everything, there are silver linings. I recently had a chance to reflect during some downtime on vacation, and I wanted to share a few of the things I wished I had known earlier in our journey of navigating speech and language delay.

I recently took a week off to get some sun down south, which allowed me to spend more time with my son. Watching him interact with everyone, from border officers in the airport to other kids at our hotel, I realized how far he’d come in his social and language skills. And, there was a point in time when I couldn’t have imagined this kind of progress in my wildest dreams. If you had told me in 2018 that one day my son would be able to interact with his peers—and would even prefer to spend time with them rather than us—I’d have called you naively optimistic! And while it’s true that he’s made a lot of progress, the truth is that I have as well. Here are some of the key things I learned along the way.

Be kind to yourself

Reflecting back, I wish I was more gentle on myself because I deserved more credit. Of course, the amazing support we had from our speech therapist and other professionals was important, but what really helped us get through that time was the countless hours our family spent together figuring out a way to communicate and play together.

My son is six years old now. He speaks in full sentences and he’s independent when it comes to socializing and playing with his peers. Things weren’t this way when we started. When I first became seriously worried about his development, he was 18 months old, non-verbal and very much in his own world. Playtime was mostly him pushing his trains on the track and me, utterly failing to get him to say “choo choo!” It took a year of weekly speech therapy sessions where our therapist coached me to play and interact with him differently. Personally, I believe his progress is largely the result of me changing my mindset—and how I was interacting with him during the limited time we had together every day.

Put fun first

After going through different phases of disbelief, self-blame, anger and grief, I realized no matter how far my son comes in his development journey, I’ll never get back the time we had together. He was a curious, happy two-year-old who was clueless about what the world expected of him. He wanted to play all day and when I finally met him where he was, great things started to happen.

During the long summer days, we had a few hours to ourselves every afternoon after daycare. By then, we had already started speech therapy and I knew if I wanted him to pay attention to me, I’d have to do something fun that he enjoyed. The local ice cream shop was one of the few places I was able to get him to sit face-to-face with me. It was during those precious moments that I got to enjoy his smiles when he found the ice cream on my nose funny. Slowly, those moments became longer and longer, and so did our ability to have back-and-forth interactions.

He wanted to play all day and when I finally met him where he was, great things started to happen.

Another thing he loved was playing in his inflatable pool on the balcony. I noticed he would start making noises in the pool and he’d be happy to play there for hours. In the beginning, I’d sit around and watch him and would try to join his play. Eventually, I found it much more fun to join him and imitate the gestures and sounds he was making. I could see how excited he became when he saw me taking part in his games and tricks. It was in that same pool that he said his first word: “Aab” (Water in Farsi).

I took this picture moments after he said his first word and I almost cried from excitement.


Putting fun first releases the pressure. It takes the focus away from reaching the next milestone, and it makes your bond stronger. And, a strong bond not only helps your child develop language, but builds a meaningful emotional connection with you.

Don’t give in to guilt

Throughout the long process, it’s easy to think a lack of progress is your fault. It’s not. I remember constantly doubting myself. I was worried about asking too many questions at the pediatrician, asking for extra accommodation at the daycare or feeling embarrassed at the playground when my son would happily ignore other kids’ gestures towards him. Thinking back, I saw the world through a lens of guilt. I thought I was at fault for our circumstances, so I didn’t think I deserved to get extra attention or support. In my mind, his speech delay was my fault and I had to fix it without causing hassle for others.

Eventually, I started to see my son’s needs as a litmus test when it came to my relationships with people that I knew or had just met. Doctors that were open to my endless questions were ultimately more diligent and empathetic. Daycare staff who listened to my concerns were far more capable of helping my son than those who brushed off my concerns. And anyone who suggested I was being too open about my son’s challenges slowly faded to the sidelines.

Eventually, I started to see my son’s needs as a litmus test when it came to my relationships with people that I knew or had just met. And anyone who suggested I was being too open about my son’s challenges slowly faded to the sidelines.

The more comfortable I became with our circumstances, the more competent, resourceful and kind humans I found that wanted to help us. This gets me to the last point:

Reach out for help: you’re not alone!

It’s difficult when you’re trying to figure out whether your child needs help with speech and language—something you thought would develop naturally. Facing this new challenge can be overwhelming and scary. I spent a lot of time spinning questions around in my head—and worrying about what the answers might be.

If you’re reading this, you’re already looking for ways to help your child, and that is a huge first step. So pat yourself on the back, take a big deep breath and know there are thousands of parents dealing with the same challenges at this very moment. This doesn’t mean your challenges are not unique, but that’s why it’s crucial to build a support network based on your specific needs. Here’s what ultimately helped me feel supported:

  • Making time for yourself: To be the happy, fun mom that I aspired to be, I needed to recharge and restore. And I ignored this bit for a while. I remember getting frustrated with grandparents for not following the SLPs recommendation to wait for 5 seconds when my son needed something. After a while, I gave up and instead asked them to help with meal prepping. Not having to cook for one or two days a week meant I had more time to invest in my physical and mental health.

  • Join a parent community: I found the community of parents that have gone through similar experiences one of the best resources to ask for help. This could mean asking about respite care, government funding programs, etc.

  • Conserve your energy: You might have already met people who question your intuition or your parenting style. If you’re like me, you want to bring facts and data to defend your judgment. In the end, it became so tiring to rationalize why I thought we needed help so urgently. You’re the one that knows your child best and that’s all that matters.

Since founding Babbly, I have had the privilege of connecting with many parents of kids with speech delays. At some point, so many of us feel like we are to blame—embarrassed and alone. This is so far from the truth. This is one of the reasons we’re creating a space for parents to come together and share their concerns with each other and a licensed therapist.