Here We Go Again – Attack of the Feels

When my son, Brody, was younger, I went through a phase where adjusting to our reality felt incredibly difficult. I think that's natural. When you're first pregnant, you have all these expectations and dreams about the future. But when you learn that your child has complex needs and will require lifelong care, many of those visions are shifted. It's not that you love your child any less—it’s just a lot to process, and it takes time to come to terms with.

I watched Brody’s peers hit milestones—learning to talk, ride bikes, and start school—and while I was genuinely happy for them, I also felt a deep sadness for what could have been for Brody.

Then Brody started attending a specialist school, and I connected with other mums on similar journeys. It became easier. Finding that community has been everything: supportive, inclusive, and celebratory. I’ve long since accepted that our path is different, and that acceptance has eased the sadness I once felt.

Becoming a Teenager

But something has shifted recently, and I can feel it resurfacing. Brody turned 13 this year, and while I celebrated his growth, watching his peers enter a new stage of life has been a bittersweet reminder that Brody’s journey is different from theirs.

I recently visited a friend whose son is just a month younger than Brody. I hadn’t seen him in a while, and hearing about him going into town on his own with his friends left me feeling overwhelmed. The next day, when I was telling my mum about it, I unexpectedly burst into tears. It took me completely by surprise.

I thought that these feelings were behind me, but the reality is that milestones like turning 13 are bound to stir emotions. And I know that just like before, I’ll forget about these feelings until the next wave hits—turning 18, learning to drive, moving out, starting a family. Each one will inevitably catch me off guard.

The point of this post?

I want to tell parents of younger children that these moments—these curveballs—are likely to come. And it’s okay to feel sad about the "what ifs." It doesn’t mean you love your child any less. It's just part of the journey.