When I was coming to terms with having a son with a disability, there weren’t many moms who understood what I was going through. Despite having a supportive community of friends and family, I often felt like I didn’t quite fit in. I was a new mom and at the same time, unlike all the other new moms. I spent more time at doctor and therapy appointments than at playgrounds and playdates. Although I shared bits and pieces of my struggle, there were parts I didn’t know how to share because I had no idea what I was feeling.
The ambiguity of emotions
Turns out, identifying emotions is a universal struggle. Author and researcher, Brené Brown has found that out of the 87 different emotions we have, the majority of people she tested could only identify three in the moment: sadness, happiness and anger. So, no surprise I didn’t know what I was feeling.
Not knowing the emotion wasn’t the only reason I often didn’t share my struggles, I also didn’t want to be the one who was ALWAYS talking about her problems. The proverbial pin in a field of balloons – a favorite made-up expression of mine. It brings everyone’s mood down and ushers in the awkward silence that begs to be filled, but no one knows how. And I don’t blame them, they don’t know what to say because they’ve never experienced it.
My search for support
There was no one I could ask for advice or just vent my feelings. The kind of support I needed lay with those who were on the same journey. I knew I wasn’t the ONLY mom in the world with a child with a disability. There were others. The problem was, I didn’t know where to look to find them.
I know who to call to get services for my son but how do I find support for myself? I had no idea. So I started by simply searching. Back in the mid-90s, our search engines were phonebooks. Not only were they thick but it was slow and tedious looking through the pages to find what you wanted. In my case, I never found it. Most of the groups listed under ‘Support Groups’ dealt with addictions. There were no programs for mothers of children with disabilities that I could find.
My other resource at the time was the library. Thankfully, they offered some assistance but not in the way of a support group. However, they had a small collection of books written by parents who had kids with disabilities. I borrowed whatever they had. I wasn’t sure what to expect but reading their stories encouraged me. It gave me hope and made me feel less alone…less isolated, even though I never had a conversation with any of the authors.
The power of our stories
The power of our stories is that it can bring hope to those who are struggling. It has the potential to motivate and inspire change. Stories certainly impacted my life. It’s the reason why I’m very open about sharing my story and one of the reasons I started this blog. But none of that would’ve happened if someone didn’t have the courage to share their story.
That’s why I’m encouraging you to share your story, whatever it is. You never know how it will impact someone, it just may be the oxygen they desperately need.