SEND Parenting - a club nobody asks to join

Isolation is a word we've all become a bit too familiar with over the past couple of years. Before Alba was born I'd tried to prepare myself for what was to come - the lonely late night feeds, days of crying on minimal sleep etc. I'd heard stories from friends and family but was reassured that everything was a phase and would fade into the distance. But nothing could have prepared us for being cut off from our entire support network. We are incredibly lucky to have my family on the doorstep and I was so looking forward to having them there for that much needed assistance - be it physical or mental. I know I'm not alone in feeling anger at the way we had to bumble through that first year of Alba's life. But I do look back on it with a real sense of pride and achievement. To anyone that had a baby during the last couple of years, we did it. We made it through and survived (perhaps not totally unscathed) to tell the story.

I was sure that once Covid was 'over', we'd begin our journey into 'normal' parenthood. How wrong I was. As soon as things started to open up, I booked on to a few small local groups. I'd been longing to get out to music sessions and meet some other mums, and give Alba a chance to socialise with some other babies. We started swimming lessons and a local musical storytime group. It wasn't until this point that I began to notice Alba wasn't really doing things the others were, and some even younger than her seemed a lot more advanced. I kept telling myself that every child is different, and that Alba would just catch up in her own time.

But the weeks went by, and then months, and Alba's development was pretty stagnant. The other little ones were jumping further and further ahead. Although I think I was still in denial at this point, deep down I knew something wasn't quite right and I found it increasingly harder to be around typically developing babies. All I could focus on was what she wasn't doing and what she was missing out on. The polite chat of 'how old is she' became something I dreaded, feeling like I always had to follow up my answer with 'she's a bit behind'. I could see the surprise/sympathy in faces when they realised she was a lot older than they thought.

It's a funny thing really, baby chat. I'd never thought about it until I found myself in this situation. Right from birth you're constantly asked 'is she sleeping? Are you breast feeding? Is she feeding well? Oh she's 1, so she must be moving around now, starting to chat?'. I know this is all polite conversation and I'm guilty of presenting these questions to new parents. It's force of habit. But being on the other side of it, I know how shit those questions can make you feel. Even querying how well a baby is sleeping can be hugely triggering, something I'm sure all new parents have found a difficult topic of conversation at times. In the depths of sleep deprivation the tiniest thing can send you over the edge. I remember seeing a couple along the canal with their daughter who's a few months older then Alba. The difference in the girls was massive and we both picked up on the shock when we said Alba wasn't really doing the things they asked after.

I felt that the easiest way to avoid these conversations and being surrounded by typically developing kids was to just remove myself from those situations and environments. I couldn't get upset if I had nothing to compare to. For a while I pretty much isolated myself and Alba from other mums and babies. We continued with the group we'd already paid for, but I found it so difficult. I ignored messages on our antenatal chat of my new friends sending updates of their little ones, no harm meant but so much taken. I know you guys will be reading this now and I don't want you to stop sending those updates. I love seeing how Alba's little pals are getting on and I'm getting so much stronger at accepting our reality and how it's different from yours. But then everyone's is, right? I met once or twice with a few mums I met at groups or through Instagram. Those meetings also became too much so if you're reading too, I'm sorry for ghosting!

I spoke last week to a mum I met through the Peanut app and now regularly chat to on Instagram. Her daughter is a bit younger than Alba and circumstances are different, but there are a lot of similarities. She'd had a low few days after seeing photos of her baby pals starting a new little dance group together. My heart immediately hurt for her, knowing how horrid it is to watch your child's peers cracking on with typical childhoods, smashing milestones and getting involved in all sorts of activities. She hadn't wanted to share how she felt, and I also know that feeling too well. Sucked down into a dark hole where nobody seems to understand what you're going through, and as though nobody else even cares. That conversation was actually the one that sparked me to finally start this blog. I know there are other people out there feeling the exact same things I feel, and they don't know where to go or who to talk to.

The SEND parenting world can be so very lonely. Friends and family can offer encouraging words of support and love. Don't get me wrong, I'm so grateful for that and it can often pick me up. But sometimes it's just not quite enough. Comments like 'oh she'll catch up, she's just doing it in her own time' are the ones the can bring us right back down. We're both getting better at replying 'actually we're not sure if she will' but sometimes it falls on deaf ears. I get it, it's a difficult conversation and not really one that a lot of people want to include themselves in. But a brush off is even worse.

We need to find our village and I'm working on it. We're very fortunate to live where we do, with so much support around (once you know where to look!). There's an amazing charity called Allsorts which supports families of kids with additional needs of varying levels. They have a toddler group which I try to get to with Alba and it's so nice to be able to chat to other mums who just get it. I've met a few mums via social media who had toddlers very similar to Alba and they have been an absolute life line as well. It's just so comforting to know you aren't alone, there are other families out there treading a very similar path to you.

I'm slowly finding it easier to be around other mums and toddlers again, I know it's great for me and Alba. It's not always easy and sometimes I opt out. I'm learning that that's ok. This is a journey for us all and we need to take it at our pace. However Alba needs to come first, and being the social butterfly she is ,the more time she gets around people the better. I'm also learning to pick my battles when it comes to difficult conversations. Sometimes the 'oh she'll catch up' comments don't warrant an explanation. I can tell if someone is open to hearning about Alba or not. We now belong to a club we never asked to be part of. One we didn't expect, after such a normal and healthy pregnancy. And one we knew nothing about until we were unknowingly signed up. But we're here, and we may well be lifelong members. We're working on accepting that and bumbling through this journey into a different parenthood to the one we expected, just as we did throughout that first year of Alba's life.

You do you, baby girl. We're on this path together x