Life of a Special Needs Mom

As I sit here with drink in hand and listening to sappy music, I think "Why am I not happy?" I think about my life. All the ups and downs. All the shit that went down in the last decade. The last decade was hard. I didn't cope well. I had pity parties every other day alone in my backyard or on the sofa late at night. I have felt guilty every day. 

My family, my friends, my coworkers and even my own husband thought I was happy. I was just stressed. We had alot on our plate. We went through hell and back with our first born and his erratic and violent behaviours, with family & friends giving their 2 cents and even the professionals saying that we were bad parents, doing everything wrong. I wasn't right in thinking that something was wrong with our first born son. No. He was JUST a boy. I was JUST a first time mom that didn't know what she was doing. I was JUST a Nurse who was trying to be "doctor". I wasn't trying hard enough to be consistent with what the professionals were telling me to do. I wasn't on the same page as my husband who I thought was being too militant on our son. I was being too hard on our son according to some because I was trying to be on the same page of my husband. For some, I was being too lenient because I didn't agree with my husbands' militant ways. It didn't matter what I did. I was criticized every step of the way. I felt like I was doing something wrong especially when my son would lash out violently and put dents in the wall, the door or my own skin. What did I know? 

Day in and day out for years I started to believe that I was in the wrong. What I thought and did was wrong and truly didn't know how to raise a child properly. His father and I even almost divorced. What did we not know? My son didn't want to be held even when I refused to not hug him. My son cried like someone was hurting him when the vacuum cleaner turned on, when the water was just lukewarm and when I'd touch his hair to try to soothe him. I cried thinking it was my fault but I knew deep down it wasn't. I'd feel horrible when trying to discipline him. He would lash out when I would say no. He would scream, kick, bite, scratch, throw anything in reach, break stuff like the gate to the stairs so his newborn sister wouldn't go up the stairs and hurt herself and even hit doors and walls leaving marks. It broke my heart. What was wrong? 

The years passed and eventually we knew! Finally after a decade of hell: Autism! 

A sigh of relief and some anger!

I wasn't a bad parent. But why did it take so long?

I DID know something was wrong all this time.

Some therapy and the right meds, life is better. Life is not perfect but better than those violent, stressful days. The days that traumatized the whole family, even his baby sister who never wants to be alone because she is scared.

Now he plays with his sister and takes care of her. He loves her with all of who he is. He actually tells me stuff about school, his friends, the stuff he likes. It's beautiful. 

So why am I not happy? 

Why am I always waiting for the ball to drop?

Why am I still not coping better? 

I should be. Life is better, right?

Why am I afraid to be happy?

I am trying. I am enjoying the precious happy moments when my son and his sister are happy and playing. I am enjoying the moments they interact with themselves, laughing, playing, watching videos together and chasing after each other despite the wide age gap between them. Yes. 8 years apart. God's will, not mine but I will take it. 

I am enjoying every precious moment I get alone with my husband. It's hard to get that as a parent regardless of whether they are special needs parent or not. Parenting is hard. We need to see that both mother and father have an important part in their kids lives. The division and jealousy needs to stop. Enjoy what you have. 

Life is too short and too precious!