A Glimpse Into the Mind of a Special Needs Mom

self insemination kit

As a parent, my husband and I often find ourselves unraveling the complexities of our middle son’s unique mind. When a rare medical diagnosis looms over your baby, it can feel like you’re caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty, trying to predict an unknowable future. But instead of getting lost in the chaos, we strive to focus on the present moment, even when our brains feel like a bustling hub of thoughts and emotions.

Imagine a brain that resembles a well-crafted omelet—full of vibrant ingredients like ham, cilantro, bell peppers, and a sprinkle of cheese. That’s what the special needs mom brain is like: packed with knowledge, concerns, hopes, and dreams. Yet, despite all the richness, there’s a limit to how much can be processed before everything feels overwhelming.

Questions swirl endlessly: Will he walk? Will he talk? Will he find love and friendship? Will the world treat him kindly? And amidst these thoughts, I often find myself wondering if I’m sending too lengthy an email to his teacher. My inner critic shouts “YES,” but how do you edit your child’s story? With a deep breath, I hit send and move on.

Sometimes, I think I should have pursued law school, as it would have certainly simplified the mountain of IEP paperwork. But as I sit in my son’s occupational therapy session, I’m already behind on grading assignments for my own students. One of them has just overcome a significant learning challenge, and I’m bursting with pride for him and the sacrifices his mother has made. Though I can’t speak with her due to college regulations, I often imagine her, tirelessly supporting her son.

In an unexpected moment, I find myself connecting with a checkout clerk who genuinely asks how my day is going. For a special needs mom, that question can lead down a rabbit hole of emotions, from tears to triumphs. On this particular day, fresh from an intense IEP meeting where we advocated fiercely for our son, I can’t help but share our victories. To my surprise, the clerk listens with understanding, revealing that she, too, has a daughter with an IEP. This moment highlights another facet of the special needs mom brain: the innate connection we share with others who understand our journey.

I often wonder if my other children are getting the attention they need. I believe they are learning compassion and inclusiveness. This balance is crucial; for every challenge, there are unique gifts that arise from our collective experiences. Small victories turn into monumental achievements, reminding me to hold onto hope, since every loss also brings forth new life and laughter.

If only I could earn points for the mental gymnastics my brain performs daily! My tendency to overthink, once a source of stress, has become a superpower fueling my ability to juggle everything. To-do lists swirl in my mind: tutor paid (check), endocrinology appointment rescheduled (check), and homework completed (check). I visualize my brain as an intricate machine, constantly processing information and navigating through life’s demands.

Recently, my husband shared the news of a 21-year-old thriving with the same condition as our son. His success story brings a sense of relief and hope. Yet, my instinct is to reach out and offer support, even if he appears to be doing fine. My brain is filled with a wealth of research and knowledge—I’m determined to share it with others in need.

As I ponder the future, I remind my husband that we need to talk about family planning again. I have dreams of adopting every child with a rare condition, and it’s time to discuss our options. After all, the little human I’ve nurtured has the power to change the world with his infectious smile, which calms the chaos around him.

In summary, the life of a special needs mom is a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and connections. It’s a journey filled with challenges, but also with incredible triumphs and a sense of community that brings solace.