I’m a parent to a special needs infant. There I said it. It’s a thought that I’ve been juggling around in my brain but haven’t been brave enough to express. Before I go further let me show you the definition of special needs.
(in the context of children at school) particular educational requirements resulting from learning difficulties, physical disability, or emotional and behavioural difficulties.
‘the absorption of children with special needs into mainstream schools’
- Oxford Dictionary
Without going deep into my background I suffer from feeling like an imposter quite often. Up until now saying I’m a parent to a special needs child scared me. Honestly it still does. Instead of being scared of what other parents might say I’m scared of how I’m going to help my child succeed. Being scared is good because now it’s motivating me to proceed with helping my son.
In severity my son’s needs are incomparably small compared to many special needs children. That doesn’t exclude him. He may present as a normal child. That doesn’t mean he is. He has made a lot of progress. This does not mean there wasn’t ever a problem. In fact his progress is an accomplishment and testament to how hard he and I have both worked.
My son at 16 months is a caring, loving, friendly, beautiful, fun, independent, determined, inquisitive, deep thinking, special needs soul. I’m honored to raise him as a single work at home mom with pride.