Knock knock…

It’s not easy being a mum. There are no qualifications required before you give birth. And no manual handed to you as you leave the hospital. You arrive home with a tiny baby and try to keep the panic from overwhelming you. Changing nappies can become a Herculean task and all of a sudden you’re second guessing whether you can continue breast feeding, because it’s hard. And not something your husband can help with.

Night time feeds can seem to last for at least 3 days. And you survive on small snatches of sleep which can make you seem dopey at best. My son was a baby who liked to bring up most of his feed on a fairly regular basis. One night, he did so quite dramatically which required not just a change of clothes but bedding as well. I muttered to my husband to be careful as the baby was on our bed and I went downstairs to put some clothes in the tumble dryer. Because I wasn’t as up to date on the washing as I should have been. I rushed back upstairs, got the baby bath out, filled it, washed my son and put him into clean, now dry, clothes. I changed his bed and we both went to sleep. My husband woke in the morning and turned to me and said, “that was a quiet night.”

My daughter didn’t ‘become’ autistic. Her global learning difficulties weren’t something she developed over a number of years. The diagnosis doesn’t define her and what she can achieve. She is my beloved daughter. She was a beautiful baby who had such a ready smile for anyone who glanced her way. Her sense of humour has been something I’ve always treasured about her and her laugh is extremely infectious. She loves telling jokes and tries to instigate joke telling at the dinner table on a regular basis.
Knock knock
Who’s there?
Banana?
Banana who?
Banana can’t reach the doorbell.
She hoots with laughter and, because we can’t help joining in, she believes she’s on a roll. Just hand her a microphone and she’d be up on stage before you could say, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea….

My husband read the first part of this post and asked, where are you going with this? I’m still not sure. But I do know one thing, rejoice in your child. Celebrate their differences, as well as the things which you find challenging. Don’t let a diagnosis scare you into believing that your child is less than any other child. And give yourself credit for being a parent who loves their child fiercely and well.

Even if you have to make up knock knock jokes.