Dear Families: A Letter for the Day We Say Goodbye to Early Intervention
I still remember the first day I walked through your door.
Your baby was smaller, maybe quieter, maybe more unsure of the world. You welcomed me into your home—sometimes in pajamas, sometimes with a cup of coffee in hand, always with love in your eyes for your child.
Week after week, we sat on your floor together. We turned couch cushions into obstacle courses, sang songs that made us all giggle, practiced skills in the middle of snack time, and celebrated little moments that might have seemed invisible to others—but to us, they were everything.
And now, here we are. It’s time to say goodbye to Early Intervention.
For You, the Parent:
I know you’ve been waiting for this day—working for it, hoping for it. And I also know it feels harder than you imagined.
Because EI isn’t just therapy. It’s someone showing up every week to notice the details others might miss. It’s having another set of eyes and hands to help problem-solve. It’s someone who tells you you’re doing a good job—and means it.
When it ends, it’s normal to feel:
Pride—in your child’s amazing progress and the skills they’ve built.
Gratitude—for the bond we’ve created.
Worry—about whether you’ll be able to keep it going without that weekly check-in.
From My Heart as Your OT:
I feel it too.
I’ve been there for the firsts: the first time they reached for a toy, the first time they took a step without holding on, the first time their eyes lit up because they could do something on their own.
I’ve watched you grow in confidence as a parent—learning how to read your child’s cues, how to help without taking over, how to celebrate progress instead of just chasing the next milestone.
And now my role is shifting. I won’t be in your living room every week anymore. But my care for your family doesn’t end here.
The Door Is Always Open.
Please know this: you can always reach out.
If months from now you wonder whether something your child is doing is “typical,” or you want a quick sensory strategy, or you just need someone to say, “You’re still doing a great job”—I’m here.
Discharge doesn’t mean I stop caring. It just means you’ve built enough skills to carry forward on your own—and I’ll be cheering you on from wherever I am.
You’ve Got This.
Graduating from EI is a milestone that belongs to both of you—your child and you. You’ve shown up, put in the work, and loved your child through every step.
I may not be sitting cross-legged on your floor anymore, but I’m still here in your corner, believing in your child’s potential and in your strength as their parent.
This isn’t goodbye. It’s “I’m just a call away.”
Love,
Alison
