Why?

And that's how you've been for your three and a half years. True, you've always been shy. When I think back to occasions in the past I can see a recurring pattern - my 40th birthday party when I mistakenly thought you would love it - the dancing that you do in the privacy of our living room was I though testament to the fact that you love to dance, show off, be the life and soul. Like mother like daughter. Like brother.  You were sullen though and clingy. You didn't enjoy it at all. And other occasions have followed the same pattern but I just thought it was you. On Face book I questioned on my status which Paisley it would be that I took to ballet. Your first class. Would it be the extrovert version of my daughter or would it be the introvert version of my daughter? I believe that it was this side of you that has manifested itself so fundamentally in you. I didn't take any notice of those signs. The day before that new ballet class you fell down the stairs. From the top to the bottom. You seemed fine after the initial bruise had gone down but when you were extremely sick two days later I decided to take you to the doctor's. Just to be sure. We then went to A&E and saw four or more doctors/nurses. They were even talking about keeping you in. Finally, we were home. Two days later and you stopped speaking. That was three weeks ago and there's only been a day of speaking in between. Was it all the people that you had to see, expecting you to respond to them? Was it ballet? Was it the pre school that you began in September? I remember in your nativity admonishing  you that you hadn't joined in the singing when you had known all the words at home. Is it a combination of all of these things that have just overwhelmed your brain causing it to shut your voice down to protect you?
Of course, the biggest problem is that I don't know why. Perhaps you don't but with you only being 3 and a half and not talking the speculation is what drives us mad. Daddy and I speak all the time about the whys and the wherefores. To no real avail.
And I guess the worst thing is that you've acquired the most uncommon version of the disorder. Most children just don't speak at school - something which I can kind of understand - but your voice had decided to hide from all of us. Even your closest family. Even from me. I'm the one that you should feel the most comfortable with - the one who will protect you from everything scary and anxiety ridden. And yet I obviously haven't. And I feel such a failure as a mummy.
Even your brother has heard you whisper to him when you both stayed in the same room together a couple of nights ago. Part of me is pleased that you are able to share some things with him and part of me wonders why not me.
It's been 14 days tomorrow without any speaking, 21 days with just one and a half days of speaking. You're mouthing words today which I feel is a good sign but I know that even if your voice comes back it may disappear again. It's amazing the impact that it has on all of our lives but at least it has brought the writing side out of me again. I'd always written things down when struggling with emotions and I suppose that has lessened as time went on. I've just finished my book which I will self publish tonight to help you and others like you. Maybe some good will come out of this.