When we first found out I was pregnant in 2022, I was tempted to go into full panic mode.
I was elated, but I also knew my health and finances were already hanging on by a thread.
So my partner and I sat down and plotted.
The only reason I knew I’d make it through in one piece was because of the confidence and ability to stay calm during a crisis that disability has instilled in me. This skill, of course, transfers rather nicely into parenthood.
This is just one example of how I believe my disabilities make me a better parent.
Don’t get me wrong: There absolutely are days where I feel my disabilities hold me back. Days I feel deep, all consuming guilt for not being able to parent ‘like other mums’.
But I’ve recently realised that navigating disability has greatly improved five skills that I’ve found integral to parenthood: resourcefulness, gratitude, patience, budgeting and self-confidence.
In oversimplified terms, this means my joints are painful and prone to dislocate, and my spine is incredibly wonky and sore. I have near-constant pelvic pain and really rough periods.
My health was supposed to make conceiving, carrying and caring for a child much harder than it has, with my medical team warning me throughout my 20s that I was likely infertile, which I spent years trying to come to terms with.
So our daughter, Dalia, was a surprise pregnancy – born on July 19, 2023.
I struggled greatly throughout my pregnancy – with every single health issue I have flaring worse than ever before. I also had to have a planned C-section due to my spinal issues.
I’m grateful to have the support of my partner, Tim – my child’s non-disabled father – as well as a large support system of family living nearby.
Now, through a lot of trial and error, there are some important realisations that I’d like to share – all about how I believe my disabilities make me a better parent.
For starters, I’m resourceful and resilient, which is easily the one that other people notice the most.
This means that I can do a lot with very little, and I’m great at problem-solving because I’ve simply had no choice. The reason I freelance as a writer is precisely this.
It’s a rare job that can be done from home, flexibly, with only a laptop and the internet, and without the unsustainable pressure that shift work would put on my body. This has helped me as a mum greatly, as I can get work done before she even wakes up.
Secondly, I’ve built up gratitude over the years, especially as most of the fears my medical team had for my parenting journey haven’t come to pass.
This gratefulness really enables me to push through the days where everything seems to be going wrong – the days where Dalia is in a foul mood, refuses to stick to her sleep schedule, eat her meals or stop crying. The days where teething feels like a black hole we’ll never escape from.
I remind myself how hard fought-for these moments really were and how I never thought I’d have the honour of struggling through them.
Then there’s patience. This third skill means that if I don’t pace myself while doing even the most mundane of daily tasks, there are huge consequences – such as drastically increased pain and fatigue, migraines, and burnouts that can render me incapacitated for weeks sometimes.
Patience and restraint has made me much more able to deal with toddler meltdowns and chaotic sleep schedules.
Self-confidence and self-worth combined are the fourth skills that make me a better mum. My disabilities have rendered me bed bound for huge swathes of my life, and this surplus of time and lack of stimulation has made me ruminate so much, scrutinising every aspect of myself, tearing down and rebuilding them time and time again.
My self-worth used to be so tied to my productivity and independence, and I’ve had to reframe this entirely as they both slipped. Years of fighting back against negative self-talk will prove invaluable once my child is old enough to start grappling with these concepts herself.
And lastly, there’s my budgeting skills. Disability is very expensive and benefits are very low – I get roughly the same amount as a student loan each year (around £550 a month) – in disability benefit PIP and live purely on this and when I’m unable to write.
Tim only works part-time and so helps with bills, but his budget doesn’t go much further either.
This has made me very good at stretching a budget well beyond what is typically considered reasonable.
Let’s be clear, I’m not saying these skills are unique to disabled people – or apply to all of us – but disability has definitely heightened them for me personally.
People without first-hand experience often don’t realise how much skill navigating disability actually requires – and that’s before factoring in things like relentless medical advocacy (advocating for yourself in medical settings, especially when doctors are reluctant to treat you or accept that you require further help) or the complex, often brutal workings of our benefits system.
In fact, often people seem surprised that I wanted children at all due to my health issues or that I’d be too scared of passing my genes on. These assumptions of childlessness even extended to some of my doctors.
To this type of ableism, I always reply: ‘Of course I want kids, disabled people have the same wants and needs as anyone else.’
I frequently remind myself that disability is not a tragedy, personal failing or anything to feel ashamed of.
Having a baby as a disabled woman has been the most rewarding, humbling and hardest thing I’ve ever done. As cliche as it sounds, I’m still learning so much more every day.
But I’ve never felt this thankful for or proud of my disabilities and what they’ve taught me over the years. That’s why I’m choosing to see those five key things as what makes me the best mum I can be.
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected].Â