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Challenge: Moms Helping Moms

My message to the moms who admit it's hard

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I think moms are amazing.

My mom. Your mom.

Moms of 1 kid. Moms of 5 kids.

Moms of adult kids. Moms of babies.

Working moms. Stay-at-home moms.

Breastfeeding moms. Formula feeding moms.

Moms of angel babies.

And especially moms of kids with special needs. They are my moms. My people.

I read something recently that said moms of kids with autism should quit whining. And complaining.

That they signed up for ‘this’ when they got pregnant.

Responses varied from anger to outrage to ‘walk a day in my shoes.’

Some commenters even agreed with the shaming.

A few responses came from moms who had kids with autism themselves. One woman said, ‘Shame on you for saying this is hard. My child is severe and amazing.’

That was a real comment.

I guess I’ll never understand the shaming of any parent but especially not the shaming of one who speaks of being awake all night long, being hit and kicked and even fecal smearing. How can anyone tell her this isn’t hard stuff? And in the next breath, even question her love?

As a mom who has been hit and kicked, exhausted and more, let me tell you that I am all love. That is what gets me through.

In my world, moms of 1 kid can say this is hard stuff. Moms of ‘typical’ kids can too. Because we ‘outsiders’ don’t know.

So, this is a shoutout to the moms who…

Admit this is hard stuff.

Who knew something was different before anyone else did.

Who made the phone call for the diagnostic appointment. Filled out the early intervention questionnaire at the doctor. And voiced their concerns.

Who told their spouse, something is wrong. Even though it felt like it was physically killing them.

This is to the moms who got the diagnosis. And grieved. And turned around and fought harder than they ever thought possible.

This is to the moms who said goodbye to the life they pictured. Only to do everything to make an even better life for their child.

To moms who fight battles that the world knows nothing about.

To the moms who aren’t perfect.

To the moms who are barely getting by.

This is to the mom who watched their friend’s children, cousins, and neighbor’s kids, pass their child by. And eventually younger kids too.

This is to the mom who is invincible during the day. Day after day. And only breaks down in private.

This is for any mom who has held their babies while their bodies whither in pain. Knowing they can’t take it away.

To the moms that spend their free time at therapy centers. In waiting rooms. In hospitals.

This is to the moms who research. And wear the hat of a doctor, therapist, case manager and teacher.

To the moms who advocate. That fight for what is right. They pound the pavement. They make a better life for not only their child, but children to come.

To the moms that know their kids may never walk. Or talk. Or even sit up.

To the moms whose kids may never grow up.

To the kids moms who kids don’t have a grade. Or a first or last day of school.

To the moms who haven’t slept through the night in years.

To the moms that can function on a level of exhaustion that is humanly impossible.

Moms whose kids have never been invited to a birthday party. Went to a school dance. Or even a playdate.

Moms who have seen bullying. Unbelievable hate toward their child. Just for being different.

Moms who provide lifelong care.

Moms who change feeding tubes and diapers. Moms who aren’t trained nurses. But who have administered CPR. Rode in an ambulance. Sat by a hospital bed.

Moms who lay in bed at night wondering who will care for their child after they are dead.

Moms who are afraid to say this is hard out of fear of judgment and ridicule.

And moms who have buried their babies. I am sorry.

I think what you are doing is amazing. I see you and all of your struggles. I also see that your child is cared for. And loved. They are clean, encouraged, and thriving.

All moms are amazing. But special needs moms, you are in a class all of your own.

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