Acceptance
for every
family
What is it like to be his mom?
Morning run
It's Sunday morning and I'm running slowly through the city. No, I'm not really much of an athlete. I just run "from foot to foot" and I admit that under the pretext of a healthy lifestyle, it's more about stealing a short intense time for myself.
It's my innocent escape from the regular weekend frenzy. Relax before I fight again to turn off the fairy tale on TV, the sound effects of which are already making my head explode. A few private minutes before my husband and I start chasing the small children into the bathroom and kicking the big ones out of bed for good so that we can arrive at the grandparents for lunch at least at a relatively decent time.
My Sunday 30 minutes in silence, when it's just me... and then I can be a mother, a wife again...
The park I ran into is yawning with emptiness and I have the opportunity to focus on my thoughts, the morning scent of nature, the regularity of my breath. In the distance I hear a loud child's cry. As I run closer, I spot a lone pair. She is a mother with a child. Boys. He is not quite small anymore, maybe 8. Nevertheless, he cries, not actually he doesn't cry, but he screams like my son when he was at the height of his defiance. She shrieks, covering her ears with her hands and swaying from side to side. His mother persuades him, begs him to go on, but he does not respond. She touches him gently, but the boy reflexively slaps her hand, continues to press his ears and scream. I look for the source of his discomfort, but there is really no one in the park but us. Maybe he's bothered by dogs barking in the distance? Or does he just want to go a different way than his mom needs to go?
I can see the desperation in that woman's eyes. Sadness and helplessness. When our eyes meet, he quickly looks down. Shame on you? What must it feel like not being able to soothe your own child? Is this why they are in the park at a time when most children are still drinking their morning cocoa at home? So that they don't meet anyone the moment the "condition" comes upon them? Or are they out so that her son doesn't disturb anyone in the house on a Sunday morning? I feel very sorry for her.
What can it be like to be the mother of this child?
I am a psychologist and unfortunately I know very well what different feelings this woman can experience because she has a son diagnosed with Autism. I've heard dozens of stories of desperate parents for whom something as simple as grocery shopping or going to the playground is a nightmare. Because of their child's problematic behavior, they can only dream of a vacation in a hotel.
These parents too often remain closed in their apartments, isolated from friends and only go out early in the morning when the chance to meet other people is minimal.
They go from expert to expert, looking for help, but few of us can really help them in their everyday ordinary life...
As a psychologist, I hear about the feelings of tired mothers whose children suffer from sleep disorders and sleep only a few hours a day. Or also with eating disorders - when, for example, from everything possible and impossible that the world of gastroenterology has to offer nowadays, they only choose for themselves a piece of bread and apple juice. And they will eat it every day. Oh, I'm not kidding. Day by day.
I meet mothers of children who have no way to rest because no kindergarten will take their children. Or if, just for a few hours. I hear about exhausted fathers who become sole breadwinners…
No, I am in no way judging the woman in the park and I know she has nothing to be ashamed of. But her presence in the park makes me constantly think about how to help her.
How can we help mothers of children with disabilities in everyday life?
Simona Šimková
