When raising a PDA child you have to run your own race

I’ve had a couple of appointments and a few forms to fill in lately where medical professionals have asked… How concerned I am about my child’s development, or simply, how are things going?

My answer is… Well, I’m not particularly concerned, and we are in a good place!

But I then have to explain myself further because our version of good, happy and thriving looks pretty different. 

In fact, often others use language like… red flags, incredibly debilitating, highly concerning, very defiant, in need of last resort measures.  That all sounds pretty soul destroying doesn’t it.  I’m sure many of you have been on the receiving end of such comments and if you are like me, sometimes letting those comments sink in can leave you feeling pretty defeated. 

This is one of the reasons why our preference for appointments is parent consultations, where our PDAer doesn’t have to feel shamed by people who are stuck in a “fix it” mindset and who haven’t worked out that there is more to childhood than going to school. 

*On a side note, I should point out that I don’t actually hold this against these professionals. They are doing the best they can with the best of intentions. Trying to fix things is the way they have been taught. This was me too before I had kids and lived experience. We are also lucky to have some wonderful, neuro-affirming professionals in our life who are our greatest allies. They do exist and are becoming more and more prevalent! Hold onto them when you find them!

Anyway, I digress. 

Early on in our journey I used to find appointments, questionnaires and forms utterly crushing and emotionally draining. Continually placing focus on all the things that are hard is no way to live. 

Sure, our PDAer has high support needs, and we work hard to set up systems and environments that work for us, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t doing well. 

There are many things that out family doesn’t do that society dictates we should, however we are so far down the road of radical acceptance that they no longer matter to me in the grand scheme of things. 

We make accommodations and know what is achievable. We also know what is too hard and beyond the limit of our family’s current ability. I don’t get caught up on this, it is what it is for this season of our life. 

I could spend my time lamenting and comparing, however nowadays I choose to run our own race. 

When my son was first diagnosed, my professional mentor and trusted friend, gave me some great advice. She told me to keep my own tally of wins and that you can never predict the future based off what is happening right now. She is quite right. We trust that our PDAer’s development will happen at its own time and pace within a safe and supportive home environment. 

So what do I mean when I say I’m not concerned and we are in a good place…

Our PDAer is happy, content, incredibly sweet, we have beautiful moments of joy and connection every day, he makes suggestions for places we should go, games we should play. He has lovely relationships with his grandparents. He has a group of close friends that he enjoys seeing. We get away for short family holidays and create wonderful memories. Our family is stable, my husband and I are aligned in our decision making. Our PDAer’s relationship with his sister is improving, they play together and are learning how to repair when there are missteps. Our home is calm, for the most part. We all have opportunities to do things that fulfil us. And we have things to be grateful for every day.

This is what thriving looks like at our house. 

What does thriving look like for your family? 

If you aren’t in a place of stability, it might be hard to see a way through. I’d love to help support you further. Join our 10-week online parent education and support group where you can access Occupational Therapy support and surround yourself with mums who get it.

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