The Insignificant Mother

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It started before the meeting even began. Emails, phone calls and discussions between you all to synchronise diaries and finalise a time and location that suited everyone. Everyone, of course, except the insignificant mother. My diary was never checked. No-one asked if the time suited me or if the location was convenient. As long as the ‘professionals’ are fine with it that is what matters apparently.

You all had weeks of notice. I received the letter in the post just days before. You all knew the agenda, I didn’t.

So here we are all sat around the table. I notice you all smartly dressed, folders and pens at the ready and reports all prepared, while I sit there in yesterday’s clothes trying to remember if I got around to brushing my teeth this morning or not.

Introduction are done and apologies made, yet a few chairs still lie empty. It seems some of you have not turned up, again. I realise that every person in the room is paid to be there, except me. This is everyday stuff to you all. Meeting are your norm. Not for me. I am not sure what you all think I do all day or even what you all think of me at all. What I do know is that none of you feel I am important enough to be given a title. The sign in sheet asked me to list my profession and just as I went to write ‘parent’ one of you says ‘you can just leave that bit blank’.

You all get your turn at discussing my child like you know them so well. I want to scream at you when you don’t even say his name right or know his age. I am told to wait my turn. Each person talks about my child like he is a number. He is just one of your case load, a child you will soon move on from, either by discharging or he moves on to another class. I guess I am at least thankful you made the effort to come. Sadly some of your fellow professionals never even gave my son that honour.

I wonder if I will ever get to speak. I have no prepared report to give you all or targets I have achieved. He made it to school today, does that count? He even had breakfast..that surely gives me bonus points?

“Mum, do you have anything to add”, so you actually noticed I was there after all! I have lots I could say but does it really matter? If I disagree with anything said it gets recorded as ‘not engaging with professionals’, if I talk about home life I am reminded ‘we must stick to the points in question’, if I ask to be reminded of something that was discussed ‘we have covered that point and you will be able to read it in the minutes’. What do you actually want me to say? What you really want is me to tell you all how wonderful you are and how grateful I am for your input. You want me to pat you on the back and boost your ego and bow down to your authority. You all hold the power in these things and I am just the insignificant mum.

The meeting closes. You all return to your cosy offices, your clinic appointments and your computers.

I return home to the non verbal screaming child. I return home to the little girl refusing to eat. You can tick you box to say you had your meeting, you can record who attended and who didn’t. Please do send me the minutes to file away with the large pile of reports and factsheets I have already.

One day I may get around to reading them. Right now I have a diary full of hospital appointments and two children who need a huge amount of support. You may like to record at your next meeting that the person providing all this support day and night, unpaid, and out of love, is the insignificant mother.

Insignificant to professionals maybe, but hugely significant and loved by the two people who count the most.

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Learning to be tomato

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I am blessed to have a beautiful house. It has bedrooms,  a kitchen, a bathroom and a family room. It has walls and a roof and doors. I pretty much get to choose who enters my house and I can choose to close the curtains and blinds and doors and have privacy whenever I wish.

Yet in so many other ways my life is open to all, in full view and often seems like my every move is on show. In so many ways I live in a glass house.

When my children were young babies one of them was not gaining weight as fast as they should have been. We were scheduled to have a home visit every single week by a public health visitor for the first year of my twins life. An entire year of having someone see your children at home every week. Some visits lasted up to an hour. The only concern was my daughter’s weight yet our home had to be opened for unexpected visits at all times. That was the start of one wall of my house turning to glass.

By the time my twins were 18 months we had our first referral to community paediatricians. This put us ‘in the system’ and started more home visits by speech therapists, learning support staff and nurses who all entered my house regularly. I felt like I was on show having to keep my house fit for visitors at any time while trying to raise two very young children. A second wall of my house seemed to quickly be changing to glass for everyone to watch how we were living, playing and raising our children, all because they were not reaching milestones as everyone else felt they should.

Eventually the children began nursery and we were expected to attend courses about parenting and autism and attend regular meetings with the nurseries. As wonderful as it was to learn it also opened my family up to more people, and every interaction with our children had to have a purpose and a goal and we were even videoed several times in our own home. Sometimes it really felt like we were animals being watched in a zoo by all the professionals. A third wall of my house had now changed from brick to glass. As more people saw into our lives it got hot at times and stressful. It felt like there was such a lack of shade and privacy at times.

Three glass walls are hard to handle but while one remains brick and the roof remains covered there was still time to be alone. That is until the children started school. In order for their needs to be fully met we had to enter the new arena of school support. This meant multiagency meetings, school meetings, parents nights, school diaries and homework. Right before our eyes the last of our walls changed from brick to glass and our every move seemed controlled by our children’s difficulties.

Now we are in the realm of requiring more support. As the children have grown and their needs increased things like respite, befriending and budgets are now being banded around. Where you aware of how much of your life requires to be put on the line in order to access these things? There is no ‘sign here’ and we will give you it. Assessments are thorough, long winded and often extremely personal. You have to become vulnerable, lay yourself on the line and be scrutinised constantly. You have hoops to jump through and boxes to tick. In doing so the roof of my house, my only privacy and shade left, suddenly became made of glass too.

So my beautiful house has changed from bricks and mortar to a hot, cramped and open-to-all glass house. In order to help and support my children so much of my life and privacy has had to be sacrificed.

So how do we support them through this when our house has constant professionals visiting and calling and we have so many forms to complete? How do I enable them to have a childhood free from stress and invasion when so many people are involved in their care? How do I cope living in a glass house due to my children being disabled?

We are learning to be tomatoes!

We need the support of schools, nurses, occupational therapists, social workers, speech therapists and others besides in order to fully support our children. That means opening up our home, our lifestyle and our ways to many people. So we are going to use this to our advantage.

Tomatoes thrive in a glass house. While everyone watches on they grow, mature and become ripe due to the intense heat and pressure of living in that environment. Tomatoes are sweet, balanced and healthy despite being subjected to intense heat. They are versatile and popular.

Glass house living when you are raising children who have challenges is difficult, but by becoming tomatoes we can use our unusual circumstances to refresh others in many ways from soups, drinks, sandwiches or even tomato ketchup!

Sometimes I feel cut up or squashed but however you look at it I am blessed.

I am blessed to live in a beautiful house even if at times it seems like it is made of glass instead of bricks.

When other people get involved

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The uniforms are bought, the bags packed, and the children prepared to once again start a new term at school. It is with great anxiety and fear that once again I release my children into the hands of others to be looked after and educated for six hours a day, five days a week.

For the last seven and a half weeks I have pretty much been with them both 24/7 and even though that has brought pressure and stress at times, it has also been a relief to not have to deal with other people and schools for a while.

Now that is all about to end.

Once again other people are about to get involved in my life.

When other people get involved…

1. It is easy to feel like a failure.
While I know my children have thrived this summer under my care there will be teachers and therapists within my children’s schools who will only see the fact that their development has not been stretched perhaps as much as the would have liked, or they have not been challenged educationally or encouraged to socialise with others their own age enough.
Then there is the fact other families will stand in the school playground boasting of holidays abroad, play dates with friends and new skills their children mastered over the summer which my children may never achieve.
Being around other children the same age as mine and seeing what they can do and say has a way of making me feel like an utter failure within minutes, even if unintended.

2. Everything suddenly becomes a big stress.
In summer we ate when we were hungry, if we wanted to have pizza for lunch instead of dinner we did. We ate out now and again, we took packed lunches and went out for day trips and we had fish and chips at the end of a busy day. But now my children are returning to school where one barely eats and drinks and now food will become a huge stress again.
Now the professionals are back involved there is also an expectation to ‘move the children on’ in areas they have become stuck at and we are expected to follow “proven” methods or be criticised even when these may not be right for our child. Stress!

3. The pressure to perform becomes huge.
Did anyone care if my son wore an un-ironed t-shirt last week? Returning to school brings with it a pressure to have children dressed smartly, in uniform, and arriving on time, having eaten healthily and slept well. All of those things are major challenges for my children with sleep difficulties, sensory issues, limited diets and no understanding of time. Forgetting homework, leaving the packed lunch at home or not remembering PE kit has you instantly marked down as a terrible mother and raises my daughters anxiety to a level that makes her ill. There is pressure to keep up with the other children in the class and do weekly activities too. Having other people involved in caring for your children puts so much pressure on us all.

4. I lose knowledge that is vital to communicate with my children.
My son is non verbal and both my children have social and communication difficulties (autism). Being with them all summer has meant we have learnt to understand each other. My son would only need to find a photograph to show me and I would immediately know what he was trying to communicate because I was there with him and I know what he enjoyed. When other people get involved I lose that vital connection and no school diary or ten second talker can make up for the fact I am not with my child and therefore I have no knowledge of what he is trying to communicate. He may have heard a song at school he wants to hear again and I am expected to just ‘know’ and because I don’t we have hours of self harming, frustration and upset all round.
Neither of my children can properly communicate to others when they are hurt or where. Neither will adequately communicate when personal needs require to be met or that a food may make them feel sick. This is the bit I hate: that not knowing and having missing pieces that they can not explain to me and I have no means of working out.

I know there are some advantages of having other people involved though. It is important my children become more flexible and less rigid in insisting only I can meet their needs. They also do need to learn independence even if they will require support throughout their life. There is also the fact that having some professional involvement can actually help by bringing new ideas, support me and help access resources that can make a difference. We just need to learn to communicate, trust and work together.

I need to let go. After almost eight weeks with my children that is hard. But for my children’s sake and my own it really is important…

To let other people get involved.