The Shore
Being a special needs parent sometimes feels like being dropped in the middle of a turbulent ocean while a storm rages on.
My family and I have been thrown in and are desperately trying to make it to shore.
The shore is the promised land. It’s what we’ve always dreamed of.
We should have never fallen into the ocean, we weren’t prepared for this. I don’t even know how to swim. Surely this must be some sort of mistake. But I keep telling myself that once we get to the shore everything will be okay; we’ll be able to breathe calmly and finally rest. Our children will be able to happily play with each other and their friends.
But the problem is we don’t know what direction the shore is in. We’ve been given very vague directions, in a foreign language, with no guarantee they’re actually correct, and they change constantly.
So we do what we can to stay afloat and keep our children safe in the meantime. Our muscles are aching and cramping, and the waves are relentless.
We pray for small moments of relief, and sometimes we get them. In those moments, the ocean is calm and the sun even comes out. But then the reality of our situation dawns on me and the tears come.
Will we ever make it to shore?
Once in a while, a family in a boat passes by.
Sometimes they look at us with sympathy and thank their lucky stars they’re not in our situation.
Others offer advice and tell us to keep our chins up and not worry so much, they tell us we need to be more positive.
Then others are flat out annoyed by our presence and shake their head in disapproval of the chaos we are in.
But then, a few hundred yards away we see another family. They are also in the water. How did we not notice them before? Their skin is more weathered than ours, their muscles stronger from the years of swimming.
They are also working to keep their heads above water but don’t seem to be as frantic.
They see us and flash an empathetic smile then paddle over to tell us about the wave patterns and techniques they’ve used over the years that have helped them stay afloat.
They stick by us and now we surprisingly have friends in the most unexpected of circumstances.
None of us know if we will ever reach that glorious shore we’ve all heard so much about. The shore where we won’t have to paddle so hard just to breathe. Where we and our children no longer have to swallow bitter salt water every so often.
The shore where people simply exist and don’t think twice about it.
All we know is that our new amazing friends have shown us that surviving in the water can be done, and for now that’s good enough.
Written by, Edlín Straub
Edlín is a devoted wife and mother of two beautiful little girls, Elsie (2) and Haisley (1). Elsie is severely autistic. Now on any given day she can be found chasing her two littles around the house, cooking, cleaning, attending daily therapy sessions, and surviving on very little sleep and a whole lot of grace and coffee. You can follow her on Instagram at life.with.the.straubs.
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Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.
