The final blow in a long, sad year was the diagnosis. Learning of my little boy’s disability.
A friend of mine told me how gracefully I was handling everything that had been happening.
If only she knew.
I was not always full of grace.
If only she knew how I cried. How I longed for it to be a mistake. How I typed frantically searching…searching…for a cause…for a solution…for something to make this all go away and be my perfect life again. Make it be all better.
Being the mother of a child with a disability can be difficult. For me it was the beginning that was difficult. I was angry, and then sad, and then angry some more. I was lonely. And then angry. And now as time has passed, it has become a comfortable reality, this mothering of a child with hearing loss. Those painful wounds of discovery have healed. They are there…the scars. But they only remind me of where I started.
For some mothers, I don’t think it will ever be comfortable. For some mothers, this is very very difficult. For some, their children live deeply challenging lives.
And grace…being graceful…may be the last thing they are concerned with now and then. It is certainly understandable.
I read a collection of essays about parenting children with special needs.
I am weary. I am weary with reading about how sad it is to be the mother of a child with disabilities. What a burden it is. How we, as disabled children’s mothers, are so angry and disheartened.
Yes, it is hard at times.
Yes, YES, it can be heartbreaking at times.
Yes, it can be exhausting.
But, here is my truth:
I have a boy.
He has a disability.
Am I sad?
Am I angry?
Do I wish with he could hear normally?
Yes. Yes, I do wish he could hear normally.
Do I love him?
With all my heart.
This boy is no burden. He has been one of the greatest joys in my life.
(And if I’m being honest, a big pain in the butt now and then.)
(And also very loud).
And I love him to pieces.
Love. Noise. Joy. Pain in the butt.
That is what it’s like for me to be the mother of a child with a disability.
(And actually, that’s what it’s like with all my other “normal” children, too. Just keepin it real…)