I Thought I Understood Early Communication

Before becoming a parent, I would have said I understood early communication.

I knew the theory, I understood the milestones, and I could talk about turn-taking, joint attention, responsiveness, the foundations that sit underneath language long before words appear. I had spent years observing interactions, supporting families, and thinking carefully about how communication develops.

All of that is still true, but it’s also true that I was standing just outside of it.

Now, I'm inside it. Welcome to the world, little baby.

Early communication, when you’re living in it, isn’t something that happens in moments you can step back and observe. It doesn’t arrive neatly and it doesn’t wait for you to notice it.

It. Is. Constant...

It’s in the middle of the night. The in-between moments. When you’re tired, distracted, or unsure. It’s not just something you support. It’s something you are part of, whether you feel ready or not.

As a clinician, I could watch an interaction and think: What is happening here? How can I support this?

As a parent, the question feels different. It’s less about analysis, and more about presence.

This isn't because the knowledge disappears, but because there isn’t always space to use it in the same way. There isn’t a pause button or distance to step back. Sometimes there isn’t even certainty about what you’re seeing or experiencing.

Professionally, early communication can be described in patterns. You learn to recognise them, name them, and respond to them. There’s a rhythm to that work.

At home, there is more ambiguity. It isn't so much a pattern as a relationship. Everything depends on how both of you are in that moment. Your energy, timing, regulation, connection. These are things that are easy to acknowledge, but feel more difficult when you're experiencing them all day. There are moments where I notice something and think, I know what this is. Then there are so many where I just...don’t. I respond and nothing happens. I miss something entirely. I realise afterwards that something meaningful was there and I didn’t catch it. That experience has been quite humbling.

I feel like I'm not replacing what I know, but I am certainly expanding it! My profession is about communication, and doing it well. As a parent, I'm still grasping the part about not necessarily getting it 'right', but being there enough of the time that the interaction holds. This is less about doing communication well, and more about being in the moments consistently, albeit imperfectly.

I think, before this, I understood early communication as something that could be supported through knowledge, awareness, and intentional interaction. Now, it feels just as much about something else - being present when you’re tired, responding when you’re not sure, staying in the interaction even when it’s unclear. Not because you’ve analysed it, but because you’re there.

For anyone navigating early communication, whether as a parent, clinician, or somewhere in between, it might not always feel clear. And that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.