Our Story

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 My name is Anita Threat, CEO and founder of The Silent B.O.O.M. — Bonding Over Our Motivation.

Like most parents, when I was pregnant, I never imagined that I would one day become the mother of a child with special needs. Yet, here we are.

In the beginning, everything seemed perfectly normal. My little nugget was growing right along the charts, meeting milestones, and developing at what seemed to be an acceptable rate. During one of our pediatric appointments, however, the doctor expressed concern about his lack of communication.

In my mind, I thought, “He’s not even two yet. He’ll get there.”

A month after his second birthday, we moved down south. We had no family nearby, but we were excited about a fresh start. Our new pediatrician recommended Babies Can’t Wait, a program that provides early intervention services, including speech therapy, to children under three.

At first, we thought maybe he was tongue-tied. A neighbor referred us to an amazing ear, nose, and throat specialist. After his evaluation, we learned that he wasn't tongue-tied.

So, we were back to square one.

As he got closer to aging out of Babies Can’t Wait, I became increasingly nervous. What do we do now?

Then we were told that our county offered a special-needs pre-K program and that he qualified.

My first thought was, “Wow…starting school at three? That’s early, but this is great!”

He began attending school Monday through Friday. But even with all of that support, I noticed he still wasn't communicating the way other children his age were. He walked on his toes, occasionally flapped his arms, and hummed.

I thought he was simply a happy child.

Little did I know that we were on our way to an autism diagnosis.

 Autism?

What is that?

How did he get it?

What did I do?

What didn't I do?

How do I help him?

Who will help me?

Suddenly, recommendations were coming from everywhere.

Try this therapy.

Sign him up for that program.

Have you heard about this resource?

As a working parent, finding services was incredibly difficult. Many places closed before I could even get home from work. When I finally found speech therapy, it was recommended twice a week at more than $75 per visit because our insurance didn't cover it.

That was at least $150 a week—on top of after-school care, our mortgage, groceries, utilities, and everything else that comes with raising a family.

My husband and I didn't know how we were going to make it work.

But we did.

Because our little one was worth it.

Then one day, I received an email from an amazing therapy center where we had been on a waiting list. They recommended that I apply for the Katie Beckett Medicaid Waiver. They even gave me the names of professionals who could help me navigate the process, including Debbie Dobbs.

I started researching.

Why not?

I considered paying someone to help me complete the application, but then I discovered that Debbie offered a FREE webinar explaining the process.

And when you're drowning financially, free is everything.

I watched that webinar probably 100 times. I went through every document with a fine-tooth comb. I wanted to make sure I understood everything before submitting the application.

Then came the waiting.

Six weeks passed as I sat on pins and needles. Finally, I received a call telling me that the application was moving to the next step and that I should hear something soon.

Another month or so passed.

Then came the call I had been praying for.

He was approved.

I cried.

I thanked God.

And I thanked the caseworker.

Because that approval changed everything.

Through the Medicaid waiver, my son's therapies were finally covered.

I wasn't ashamed of my son or his diagnosis. I was grateful for the resources that helped us, and I wanted every family I knew to have access to the same information.

I told everyone about Katie Beckett. I told them about Debbie Dobbs. I shared the resources I had discovered, including more than 30 pages of valuable information available through Debbie's website.

At that point, I felt like her biggest advocate.

But our journey wasn't over.

As time passed, new challenges emerged. Behaviors changed. Hitting. Meltdowns. Anxiety. Safe foods—or sometimes no food at all. Potty training.

There were days when “Why me?” tested my patience and my strength.

Then I was introduced to Junior at Kid Med.

One phone call changed another part of our journey. They were able to send diapers, wipes, and bed pads directly to our home every month—free of charge.

The customer service was incredible.

And once again, my first thought was:

“Who else needs to know about this?”

 I rented our neighborhood clubhouse and hosted a special-needs meet and greet.

I had no idea what to expect.

But what happened opened my eyes.

There were so many families raising children with special needs right in my own backyard.

Families who didn't know about the Medicaid waiver.

Families who didn't know about resources for diapers and other essential supplies.

Families who didn't know where to turn.

And, perhaps most importantly, families who felt alone.

I heard words like:

“I feel overwhelmed.”

“I feel lost.”

“I didn't know this resource existed.”

“I thought I was the only one.”

That day changed me.

Somewhere along the way, “Why me?” became “Why not me?”

Why can't I be the person who spreads awareness?

Why can't I be the person who shares resources?

Why can't I help families navigate this journey while I'm navigating my own?

Why can't I be the voice for parents who are silently struggling behind closed doors?

And then I realized:

I can.

You can.

We can.

That realization gave birth to The Silent B.O.O.M. — Bonding Over Our Motivation.

 The Silent B.O.O.M. was created from a mother's journey, but it belongs to an entire community.

A community of parents, caregivers, children, advocates, volunteers, and supporters who believe that no family should have to navigate the special-needs journey feeling alone, uninformed, or forgotten.

We are here to share resources.

We are here to build connections.

We are here to create community.

We are here to celebrate milestones, support one another through the hard days, and remind families that they are not alone.

Most importantly, we are here to turn silence into support, isolation into connection, and uncertainty into hope.

This is our journey.

And we don't have to walk it alone.

The Silent B.O.O.M.

Bonding Over Our Motivation.

Let's continue this journey together—and let our initiatives speak louder than our silence.