It hit me like a freight train. It was just like any other day, nothing new or exciting, a tiny little things just just set it off. It seems the grief is never ending, it just coming in waves.
I rage against the world as I see confusion on her perfect face. I wish I was stronger, I want to scream, to cry, to shake them, make them understand. To make a god damn scene.
I'll never forget when Ella started at mainstream kindergarten, and we walked out with all the other kids and their parents, the excited chatter all around us as kids breathlessly described their first day, noise surrounding us, and consuming me, as I headed to sit in the car and read about Ella's day, as written by her aid in the communication book. There was 4 sentences. It was never as bad as that first week, I got used to it.
I promised the brutal truth, well strap in, because here it is. I never realized the isolation I would feel when Ella was diagnosed. How little I would suddenly have in common with my friends, with other parents. If you know someone or have a friend that's a special needs parent, this will give you an insight to how they may feel, if you're a special needs parent, you are not alone. Click here to find out more.
No one talks about the things we fail Since having Reece it's become so clear to me just how different it is with Ella, and that If I didn't have Ella first I would have no idea just how different it could be. These feelings caught me completely by surprise. It's almost like it made… Continue reading The post that spawned a blog.