As I have shared, and shared, Poppy is doing marvelously.
She has even made the leap from sleeping in mom and dad’s bed to her very own toddler bed. Placed within arm’s reach of me, but in her own bed nonetheless.
And, since we made the big switch a few weeks ago, she’s been just fine with it. Which, to me, is an indicator that she’s truly feeling ‘settled’ and safe. Yay for Poppy! And yay for no more midnight karate chops to the head for Poppy’s mom and dad!
Really, in every way, sweet Poppy has been finding her way incredibly well.
I mean, she’s not frighteningly delayed. And although she was basically non-verbal for the first several weeks, she began babbling soon after we got home. Since then she has made many an attempt to say what she wants to say. And, thankfully, she is not intimidated one bit by the fact that 99% of what she says is not usually understood. She just gestures and motions, undeterred, until we catch on to what she’s been saying.
But that doesn’t mean I haven’t wondered if she might be a strong candidate for some speech therapy.
But as an adoptive mama – knowing my child grew up exposed to a completely different language – I find myself wondering… should I just give her time to “be” and not get too concerned?
Or is it time to intervene?
I hadn’t gotten too far down the worried road before Poppy’s speech began to show improvement. And lots of it. She’s still not intelligible all the time, to be sure. But when she calls for Mama in the middle of the night, or yells for one of her brothers or sisters, or asks her bear, or a cup of juice? We all know exactly what she’s talking about.
And at “devotional time” in the evenings, when Chris asks the kids “What pleases God?”… Poppy says, loud and proud, “Don’t steal!”
I’m pretty confident it’ll come.
And if it doesn’t, I already know a great speech therapist…