Aminah’s Voice: A Journey I Never Expected, A Love I Could Never Replace

Photos By: Felecia Causey

My name is LaNetra, and I am the mother of a beautiful 5‑year‑old girl named Aminah Jade. She was diagnosed with autism at the age of two, but our journey started long before that.

My pregnancy with Aminah was nothing like my first two. This was my third child, so I thought I knew exactly what to expect but nothing went the way I imagined. I couldn’t eat or drink anything. I vomited constantly. My doctor prescribed medication, but it only made things worse. Eventually, I stopped taking it and discovered that lemons were the only thing that helped me get through the days.

Despite the difficult pregnancy, Aminah’s birth was perfect. Full term. No complications. One push, and she was here. She was the sweetest baby rarely cried, loved to sing, loved to dance with her twin sisters. She hit every milestone early. By age one, she was speaking in three‑word sentences. She was bright, expressive, and full of personality.

But after her second birthday, everything changed.

She went in for her routine 2‑year checkup. Three days after receiving her immunizations, she developed a fever. A week later, she stopped talking. She wouldn’t say my name. She began mumbling, making unfamiliar sounds, and withdrawing into herself. I panicked and called her pediatrician immediately.

At the appointment, I was told she had a “speech delay.” I remember thinking, How? This is the same child who used to walk into your office talking to every nurse. No explanation. No answers. Just confusion and fear.

We went home with more questions than we came with.

Over the next year, Aminah changed even more. She stared off into space. She eloped. She screamed. She stopped eating anything except bacon and fries. I felt helpless. Lost. Scared. And then I came across a word I had never paid attention to before: autism.

I asked her doctor about testing,but everywhere had a year‑long waiting list. I refused to wait that long. I found a place in Birmingham that could see us sooner. They ran several tests and confirmed that Aminah had Level 2 Autism.

She was two years old.

Today, Aminah is five. We’ve gotten some of her voice back. She isn’t fully nonverbal, but she can’t hold a full conversation yet. She doesn’t elope as much, but she will take off if she feels like it. She attends speech and occupational therapy every week while going to Pre‑K.

This journey has been nothing like what I experienced with my older three children. Thirteen years after my last baby, I found myself raising a child in a world changed by COVID and learning a new vocabulary one that included words like stimming, sensory seeking, and autism spectrum.

And then, life hit even harder.

Shortly after we learned about Aminah’s diagnosis, her father committed suicide. Since then, I’ve been doing this alone. I’ve had to learn how to manage my emotions, my anger, my grief, and my fear while still being everything Aminah needs.

She has made me softer. More emotional. I cry over the smallest things now. But she has also taught me that the little moments matter more than anything. She reminds me every day not to worry about what I can’t control. She reminds me that I am all she has, and I cannot allow myself to be pulled away from her mentally or emotionally.

This journey has been overwhelming, heartbreaking, beautiful, and eye‑opening all at once. How can someone who can’t fully speak have so many emotions to express? Yet she does. She is full of love, full of smiles, full of life. She hugs and kisses all day long. She smells everything her way of exploring the world. She rubs your arm like a little grandma, but that’s just her way of saying she loves you.

There are days when I wonder if I’m doing this right. But every single day, Aminah reassures me that I am.

She is my reminder that love doesn’t need words. She is my reminder that strength can be quiet. She is my reminder that even the hardest journeys can be filled with joy.

And she is my reminder that I was chosen to be her mother for a reason.