I am a firm believer in education, especially in educating one’s self on topics near and dear to one’s heart. When I was pregnant, I checked out every book the library had to offer, I revisited my doula education manuals and books, I talked to friends, midwives, my doctors, nurses… In short, I educated the Hell out of myself on what I thought was every potential outcome and possibility. I was wrong, though. I didn’t account for complications not mentioned by friends, doctors, and books, or barely touched upon. I didn’t read up on things that would nearly take my life of Spawn’s. But we lived, and my thirst for education was unabated despite the several months where I felt betrayed by the materials I used, as well as by my own body.

After Spawn was born, I joined what felt like a million “mommy blogs” and parenting blogs, read websites till my eyes crossed, and again with the books and in-person info. It didn’t take me long to realize that my kiddo is different, that he wasn’t typical. And it scared the daylights out of me on a level I didn’t know existed. After months and months (over a year, really) of practically begging his old pediatrician to listen to us, to pay attention to what was happening, we found someone else who would. And began this part of our journey. I started on the special needs parenting blogs and sites, joined Facebook groups, twitter feeds, message boards and, for a little while, found support and some comfort in people undergoing similar issues with their own kids and the fact Spawn was not alone in his struggles was, oddly, a comfort. But this weekend, I had an awakening…

Sitting at my computer, procrastinating when I should be editing, I read a thread that made my blood boil. More special needs angels clap-trap! More bashing other parents for choices they made, more blaming them for a neurological issue beyond their control… I was so irked, I started complaining aloud. My primary finally sighed loudly and asked, “Why do you keep reading these things if they just get you angry? Are they helping at all? Or are they just a habit now?” I was annoyed, ready to snap at my partner, but the words died in my mouth. Whywas I reading these things? Why did I keep going back to the same stuff that fed anger, frustration, feelings of failure or disappointment? I didn’t have an answer! I thought for the rest of the day, as we played with Spawn, took him to his brand new Spiral Scouts meeting, went to the park, worked on sensory tasks and practiced our upcoming sabbat rituals together. Finally, I realized that enough was enough. I unsubbed from the blogs, the FB feeds, the twitter feeds, the message boards, all save one or two that were actually helpful, actually populated by people who were notnblaming themselves or others for their child(ren)’s neuroatypicalities. I felt…well, I felt relieved. I felt lighter. And I felt my blood pressure go down considerably.

So often, as parents of SN kiddos, it seems that we get caught up in trying to find out why, which is a perfectly valid desire. But it’s easy to get sucked down the rabbit hole of self-doubt, of theories and uncertainty, of self-disappointment and fear. All parents are afraid–we fear for our child(ren)’s safety, their health, whether or not they’ll be happy or what will happen to them if we pass early, before they are able to be on their own. Special Needs parenting has the same fears, layered with the additional medical concerns, the worries about ‘will my child be able to lead a typical life/fit in with their peers in any way/be able to be a functional adult’, etc. This weekend, I found out that it’s important to say enough is enough, to shed the fears of others and the worries and blame and desire to make others feel just as bad as you do, underneath it all, and follow you and your child’s own path, without the extra baggage. Parenting and being an SN kid has enough twists and turns in the path without letting someone else dictate it for you.