I notice your posts. You share about the challenges of potty training your daughter, who is younger than my own. Honestly, potty training isn’t even on our radar right now; we might not tackle it for another year, if we’re fortunate.
I can’t help but feel envious of you.
Your updates reveal how exhausted you are from shuttling between sports practices and birthday parties. My son struggles with team sports; the overstimulation is too much for him. He rarely receives invitations to parties.
I feel that envy creeping in again.
I see you in the store, where people seem oblivious to your kids. They don’t give you those sympathetic glances that sometimes come with the acknowledgment of a child’s extra chromosome. I watch you at the mall, strolling with your children, carefree about the next noise that could send them running. I see you at my other son’s basketball games, entering the gym to cheer for your child while I sit in the car, struggling to coax my son out from hiding. The presence of his autism is palpable between us.
I’m so envious of you.
You capture every milestone effortlessly—first steps, first words. I do too, but those moments come only after countless hours of therapy, sleepless nights, and financial strain. You boast about goals scored and trophies won, while I talk about navigating services and avoiding legal battles. You fought for your child’s place on a sports team; I fight for my child’s spot in the classroom.
I despise feeling this way.
It’s not your fault that your children don’t have special needs, just as it’s not mine that mine do. With my first child, I celebrated those milestones, not fully understanding their significance. I didn’t realize how remarkable it was that he developed the necessary skills to sit, crawl, and walk. I didn’t appreciate how incredible it was for my other typically developing child to acquire speech without painstaking efforts.
And I recognize I am fortunate to have an autistic son who can communicate, and a daughter with Down syndrome who is as healthy as she is.
Jealousy serves no purpose. Even if it motivates you to achieve more, it’s not for the right reasons. I wrestle with this envy, and on days like today, I find myself losing the battle.
I’m genuinely envious of you.
For more insights and relatable stories, check out this post in our other blog. And if you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, this resource is a great place to start. You can also find valuable information on pregnancy at MedlinePlus.
In Summary
It’s normal to feel a twinge of envy when you see others navigating parenting with ease, especially when your own journey is fraught with challenges. While it’s important to recognize these feelings, we must also appreciate our unique experiences and the joys they bring.