As a special needs parent, I have often wondered if I am doing enough for my child. It doesn’t help when other people in my life seem to have great ideas on how to help my child, or they imply that they would do a better job, or that I’m not doing the best I can as a parent. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it feels like a punch to my gut that leaves me gasping for breath.
This parenting thing – it’s hard!
There is so much judging and pointing of fingers. Facebook seems to be the grounds for parenting debates and taking sides. Add disability and it just becomes more challenging.
I know some of the comments we hear in regards to our parenting of children with disabilities are made with the best of intentions, and unfortunately a little bit of ignorance at times, “Have you tried this therapy? It worked for my co-worker’s sister’s friend’s son who has cerebral palsy too.” Or what about the family member who says, “You just need to discipline your child better.”
And we want to scream and say, “YES I HAVE TRIED THAT!” or “MY CHILD IS NOT A BRAT, HE HAS AUTISM!”
Because we have tried so many things to help our kids, and deep down we are already wondering if we are doing enough; and is there something else we could be doing; and what if we fail our kids.
And if you have felt that way, this is what you need to know: You are not measured by what you do, but by how you love.
Loving your child is more important than how many words he has. Love knows no word count.
Loving your child is more important than her mobility. Love is all accessible. There are no ramps or wheelchairs that can prevent one from accessing love.
Loving your child is more important than his IQ. Love is not limited by intelligence, love expands as we discover unconditional love, no strings attached.
This loving thing means that we become a champion for our kids. We advocate, we educate, we believe in them.
This loving means that we see the beauty in our kids, even if others cannot see it, because they truly have so much beauty.
This loving means that we see how our children have enriched our lives.
This loving thing also means that we accept our children for who they are, not for who we want them to be.
Love your children well. Love them fierce.
Love.
Special Needs Parents, Are You Surviving?
I created a guide with 13 practical ways to help you find peace in the midst of chaos, opt in to make sure you get a copy of this freebie!
my prayer to love more, and care less about what others think. No one know how many times we have attempted to potty train this 16 years old. We have tried alarms, bribes, special underwear, special privileges, and infinity (well it seems like infinity!) alternative fixes. But alas, today I am doing laundry again, saying the same words and phrases, pointing to the task list (we are supposed to be doing before bedtime) and still have a wet girl and wet bed. Love her indeed—-she knows it!
I was at an FASD conference a while ago and the speaker said
“There are probably 1 billion people in the world who could parent your child better than you. But, that leaves 6 billion who would do worse” Kind of put things in perspective for me.
My oldest just recently got his diagnosis of fasd. I have lost contact with some members of my family because his disability doesn’t have an affect on his outward appearance, it displays itself in his behaviour, and they did not want to take the time to understand him.
I did not give birth to him but I love him so much I feel like my heart could burst some days. I will work to get him everything he needs to help him be his very best whatever that turns out to be. But I believe that in order to succeed, he needs to know first and foremost how much he is loved.
I love reading your writings. It is such an encouragement to me. Thank you for being so open and honest.
Betsy, good perspective! And thanks for your encouraging words!
As usual this comes at such a great time. We had our IEP meetings last week and I left feeling so inadequate. Although our 3 year old with Down’s can sign multiple words she is still significantly behind. I walked out of the IEP meeting feeling as though somehow I had failed her. After reading this I am reminded that my love for her is worth more than words. The words will come and we’ll keep working on them…my way.
IEPs are so hard. Praying for you and your daughter.