Why This Blog Exists

On his 3rd birthday, he was still talking.

I’m writing this blog because when I searched online, I couldn’t find stories like my son’s. Not the ones where a child was still talking at three—and then slowly stopped. Not the ones where regression didn’t happen overnight, but crept in quietly. On his third birthday, he was still speaking. He was still asking questions. He was still present.

And then, he wasn’t.

I’m writing this because the silence didn’t come at birth. It came after. Only functional doctors talk about this unfortunate, lonely event.

People told me my son was clingy because he was an only child. They said maybe I should have a second one—that it would help him “socialize.” But I knew it wasn’t that simple. I went to playgrounds and looked for other parents like me—no family around, raising one child. I asked questions. I watched. I hoped. But their children were different. They played with others. They wandered. They explored. My son stayed close. He clung to me. He didn’t want to play with anyone else—not even the children his age.

And then there was COVID. The world shut down—and my son had very sudden diarrhea and fear that lasted almost two weeks.

I called the doctor's office, and I was told to check if he had COVID. The result came back negative.

Later, after his regression, I learned those were C. difficile symptoms. His regression coincided with the pandemic, and that didn’t help. Suddenly, everything was blamed on isolation, lack of socialization, screen time, and stress.

He didn’t stop talking because of lockdowns. He didn’t withdraw because playgrounds were closed. His symptoms were deeper than that—and they started before the world changed. COVID made it easier for people to dismiss what I was seeing. But I couldn’t dismiss it, because I was living it.

I believe that when something feels wrong, you don’t wait—you investigate. You go deeper. You ask questions. You don’t settle for “he’s just shy” or “it’s just a phase.” You go to the root of the problem. That’s what I did. Even when people told me I was overthinking. Even when they said he was just clingy because he was an only child. I knew something wasn’t right. And I couldn’t ignore it, but I did not know what I was looking at.