Category Archives: special needs parenting

On Hope

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“… abandoning hope is an affirmation, the beginning of the beginning.” – Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart

The first time I heard the parent of a special needs child talk about “giving up hope”, I was horrified. Luckily, I kept listening, so stick with me. The more I listened, the more I realized I was in the process of giving up hope as well.  I have given up hope slowly since we received Lyra’s genetic diagnosis, and more rapidly since we received her neurological diagnosis.  Giving up hope had been incredibly liberating.

When you’re pregnant you are full of hope.  You hope your child will be healthy, do well in school, enjoy books/sports/traveling etc. You hope your child will be successful and independent as an adult. You hope that they find friends, and at least get to experience what an average child experiences. The list of hopes and dreams goes on and on and is different for each person.

The weight of that hope is crushing and can be debilitating for some of us with special needs children. “Hope” can be a dirty word.

The longer I held onto the hope that Lyra would be an average kid, that she would “catch up”, the harder it was for me to enjoy who she was. The more I hoped she would do things physically appropriate for her age (like use her arms, roll over, sit up, or stand), the harder it was for me to see the accomplishments she did make.  The more I hope she says “mama”, the harder it is for me to notice the ways she does try to communicate.

I have had a harder time letting go of the “mama” thing.

I have given up hope that Lyra will cognitively ever by on par with her peers.  I have given up hope that Lyra will reach physical milestones along side others her age.  Giving up that hope has been incredible and liberating. Every time I give up hope that Lyra will be an average child, my eyes are opened to what she is. She is this bubbly little spit fire with her own opinion. She is fast to giggle and loves “peek-a-boo” in all of its various forms. She loves her Sandra Boynton books, like Are You a Cow, but only when she is in the mood to read. And she loves all things music, especially The Wiggles.

Giving up hope doesn’t mean that I give up on my child.  I will always fight for Lyra and do my best to get her what she needs.  I will always try to give her the tools she needs to achieve whatever she will achieve in life. However, giving up hope has allowed me to enjoy where we are today.  Have I fully given up on hope?  Nope.  I still yearn for her to look at me and say “mama”, and mean me. Maybe one day it will happen, and maybe one day that hope will also slip away. Both are okay.

Giving up hope allows you to stop playing the “what if” game, and start playing “what is”.  It doesn’t mean that you don’t strive for more, but you start from where you are instead of where you might have been.  It allows you to move on from the past and leave an alternative reality that only you live in.

I am giving up hope.  Instead I have what is. And that is more than enough.

Sometimes, I just don’t want to fight for a little while

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Parents of special needs children experience battle fatigue. It’s something we don’t often talk about, not even to each other, but it’s there. It get mentioned on the walls of support groups in passing, but often we feel like we need to “buck up” and keep moving.  And we do. But there are times when we just want a break from fighting certain battles.  We just want a short respite so that we can enjoy everything else about our child without the dark cloud hanging over our head. We are always fighting behaviour challenges, medical challenges (often the two are linked), insurance companies, state/federal support systems, schools, doctors, hospitals, other professionals.. the list goes on and on.  Sometimes, we just want a break from it all, not to get away from our child, but to enjoy other things about them.

Right now it is 2:24 AM.  I have been up since 12 AM with Lyra and she is currently sitting in her crib clapping for herself and giggling.  Cute, right?  Not so much. We played this game last night and a different version the night before. In chunks here and there I am getting enough sleep, but I am exhausted. While Lyra has never been a great sleeper, the last 4+ months have been hell and it impacts every aspect of our lives.

I fight Lyra every day, more than once a day, to go to and stay asleep. It isn’t just a nighttime problem. It’s a nap problem too. She can have dark circles and glazed eyes, and it doesn’t matter. She won’t sleep. I have read every articles I can find, I have reached out to every single one of her doctors.  I HAVE A FLIPPING SPREADSHEET so that I can do statistical analysis on what works and what doesn’t…. The spreadsheet has proven basically worthless.

Lyra

Doesn’t

Sleep

….and no one seems to be able/willing to help us….

I have brought up the topic over and over again with almost all of Lyra’s doctors.  They smile, shrug, and typically say nothing.  To be honest, I don’t think any of them believe me when I say it is really this bad. If they do say something it’s:

  • “It’s a phase, she’ll grow out of it.”
  • “Every parent goes through this.”
  • “You just need to do more sleep training.”

What I hear is:

  • “It’s not my problem.”

It doesn’t matter that I point out she has always had sleep issues and they are progressively getting worse. It doesn’t matter that I explain there are some limitations to what sleep training method we use (vomit on the walls is NOT a new interior decorating trend). They clearly don’t believe me when I explain how diligent we are with her bedtime routine. We even read the same stinking book! I can see it in their faces that they believe this is somehow our fault and there is nothing they can do to help.

What they fail to appreciate is how this impacts our family as a whole. I am not just talking my immediate household either. It has changed how we do family dinners with the other 3 households we live near. It has impacted how I plan (or don’t plan) outings during the day with family members or friends.

I am so worn out from fighting with this issue.  It takes away so much from our quality of life and it distracts me from all of the wonderful things about my daughter. I just want a break, not from her, but from the fight. I want to forget the sleep issue for 24 hours and just enjoy everything else about her. I have battle fatigue.

But there is no one else who can fight the fight for us.

*** This post was completed at 3:07 AM and she has moved on from clapping to blowing bubbles.  Lyra finally fell asleep at about 3:45 AM. ***

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