My 10-year-old son has Down syndrome, one of the most common identifiable causes of developmental disabilities. It’s been a journey, raising him, though that’s certainly true of all my kids. Each one of them — whether they are neurotypical or, like Wyatt, have developmental disabilities, have their own strengths and weaknesses, traits that make my heart burst and flaws that make me want to scream. Parenting a child with a developmental disability really isn’t hard — or, at least, it wouldn’t be, if so many people think the world would be a better place without my son in it.
A lot of times, I hear people gush and fawn over me for raising my son, simply because he has Down syndrome.
God only gives special children to special parents.
I don’t know how you do it.
You’re so strong! I wish I could be like you.
Believe it or not, these are not compliments; they are insults. Every time people say things like this to me, or to any other parent raising a child with developmental disabilities — because believe me, these are not unique or rare comments, and yes, we all hear them — what you’re saying is that my child is exceptionally difficult. He’s a burden. He’s not like other kids. He’s OTHER.
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Now, to be clear, I’m well aware that my son is different. But we live in a world where differences are supposedly celebrated, right? Only reality is never quite that simple. People don’t want to celebrate the 10-year-old who is still in pull-ups. Kids don’t want to play with that boy on the playground who looks kind of different and can’t speak very well (and their parents sure aren’t clamoring to encourage it, either). The ones who get celebrated are the ones who are, admittedly, amazing, like Chris Nikic or Karen Gaffney. And while I think both of those people are amazing, what about people like my son, who aren’t wowing the world with their amazing accomplishments? In this hustle culture, if you can’t prove to everyone how much you rock everything you touch, then you’re not worth people’s time and adoration. You’re suddenly the kid that parents have to be especially strong and brave and compassionate to raise.
What I wish, more than anything, is that the world knew that having a child with developmental disabilities — or, heck, any disabilities — is not a bad thing. Being disabled is not bad. What will it take for people to realize that? We are not defined by what we can do, how much money we can make, the records we might set. That is not what makes someone special or valuable. And being disabled does not make someone a burden. I’m exhausted, frankly. I’m so tired of pushing back against this notion that a life with disability is somehow not worth living, or that raising a kid with disabilities is so much harder than raising a quote-unquote “normal” kid. But I’ll keep fighting it, every single day, not only because my son is worth it, but because it’s the truth. It takes Wyatt longer to do things, and some things, he may never do. But that doesn’t mean I deserve a medal for raising him, or that he’s any less valuable than my other children.
Wyatt is funny, smart, mischievous, kind of a pain in the butt sometimes, stubborn, and super loving. He, and any other person with developmental disabilities, is a person: a whole, well-rounded human being. That’s all they are: a person, like you and me. I wish other moms, other people, would look beyond the diagnosis, and stop othering people with disabilities. Yes, they are different. But different does not equal bad.
For more information about Developmental Disabilities Awareness Month, visit the NACDD website.
