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Blogger’s Block

Emily Sutton by Emily Sutton Additional Needs

Emily Sutton

Emily Sutton

I was launched into the world of special needs on New Year's Eve 2012, on the birth of my son, Jenson. He is fabulous, sprightly and loving, and ha...

Friends have been asking me when I'm going to write some more blogs.

I had come to love blogging about things that are important to me, about my experiences and feelings, but because life went systemically crazy, I couldn't risk sitting down and writing down my experiences as I didn't trust what I might say!

Nonetheless, it was constantly on my mind that I wasn’t able to get down on paper, what we were going through, over the last year.

Blogging for me during Jenson’s first three years of life was a therapeutic release.  It allowed me to retain some sense of sanity and expend some pent up anxiety and perhaps even resentment and anger.

So here I am sitting at my computer again with a frenzied worry that I'm not going to be able to recapture the writing spirit that I harnessed previously.

I have so much to say, so much has happened... But I'm sitting here staring at the keyboard, not really sure where to start.

We had a baby.

We brought a typical child into our world of special needs chaos, not unfamiliar I’m sure, to many readers.

The whole experience has been a rollercoaster ride of emotions, ranging from pure celebration of all things ordinary, through to the desperation of how I would possibly get through the day.

Who would have thought that increasing the number of humans in our family by 33% could increase the potential for stress, chaos and disorder exponentially?

One minute I'm rejoicing the delights of the sheer normalness of a baby achieving milestones, while breathing a sigh of relief that as each day passes I can’t find a reason to question his chromosomal make-up.

The next, I am spoon-feeding and nappy-changing a four-year-old who’s launching toy trains at his baby brother while playing hide-and-seek in my tupperware cupboard.

It is a petrifying thought that I perpetually and relentlessly have two small people whose survival and development rely purely on my actions every single day.

Some days, it quite simply feels like they are sucking the life out of me. Other days, it is the most joyful experience I could possibly imagine.

Probably the hardest part of these last few months has been my inability to cope with anything outside of the house when I don’t have a second adult to help me.

Coupled with people's inability to understand why this is the case. To this day I still have friends that ask ‘do you and the boys want to join us at Costa for a baby-chino?’

A day at home with no other adult around is like a life sentence, made all the worse by the guilt I feel for not providing stimulation, fresh air and fun.

But, the great moments so far, far outweigh the not-so-good times.

Like when the oldest decides that instead of climbing into bed with us at 6:45am, he will head straight to his baby brother’s bedroom, reach into his cot, and say the word ‘brother’ for the first time.

Or when the youngest laughs with glee at his big brother who is splashing frenziedly in the bath, and signs for ‘more bubbles’.

I know that this period of time in which I am experiencing tumultuous ups-and-downs is relatively short lived - although feels like a lifetime right now - and before I know it I will come out of the fog and into another chapter. Not necessarily an easier chapter but a new set of challenges, joys and chaos.

I’m reminding myself that I’m playing the long game.

It will pay dividends and we will all be winners.

One thing is for sure though, my concerns about bringing another child into the world, and into this crazy family of ours, was the best thing we could have done.

For all of our sakes.


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