I almost called this post ‘Count your Blessings’ but sometimes it’s very hard to do that when you’re faced with another battle, meltdown or dilemma, so I this one seemed more apt. It’s also a bit of a long one, so bear with me……..

When I was pregnant with our eldest, 24 years ago (yikes!) I imagined a happy baby, and then a toddler who would love books as much as I did. I was a very early reader, so I assumed our baby would be too. My husband was academic at school, like me, and was sporty, so between us we imagined fuss-free schooling, and weekends watching our child playing football matches, swimming in tournaments and horse riding.

I certainly got my wish for a happy baby, and the sporty things happened very early too (he was beating me at Swingball when he was 3!) and he loved being read books but my gut said there was something a little different. However, he was out first, and this was our normal. He struggled in school in reception and year 1, and we finally paid for dyslexia screening. He was on the border of significant and severe dyslexia.

We had a similar ‘thing’ with our youngest. I knew that there was something going on when he was very young & I spoke to the health visitor about it. However, I was dismissed and instead offered counselling (he spent a week in intensive care and another week just in an incubator after he was born) as she thought I was worrying too much, and I needed to be tougher at night when he wouldn’t sleep. Yeah, like that would have helped!

He was screened for dyslexia when he was 7.5, and he was significantly affected by it, so my gut instinct had been right! As I had had suspicions from when he was very young, and because of the issues we had had with our eldest, we did more to help him cope and to help academically, and to stop the cycle of failure.

In addition, our eldest was finally screened for ADHD when he was 16, and he is ‘very’ ADHD (if that’s a thing), but again, in many ways our family lifestyle had already helped him manage his amazing but eclectic way of being.

And then there’s autism – something I had seen but hadn’t – if that makes sense! Looking back, there were so many things that we did or put in place to make life smoother or to help our youngest cope with different situations, and now it is so obvious that it was there from the start, but the struggle for diagnosis didn’t start til he was 10, and we didn’t get the answer we needed (and that he pushed for) until he was almost 14.

So now we have two children who both have barriers and additional needs (plural for each of them – I haven’t mentioned Irlen Syndrome, but overlays and coloured paper are part of the coping mechanisms too), and who are both amazing! Barriers don’t mean our children won’t succeed, or will do badly or won’t manage, they just mean we have to go into their world instead of insisting they come into ours.

We have a young adult who, admittedly, isn’t ‘academic’ (how I hate that term), but who can play any musical instrument he can pick up, who has played sports at a high level, has had England trials for one sport and national rankings for another, who is the most charming, polite and charismatic individual you could ever want to meet, and who is inspiring many through his achievements and empathy. He hasn’t read the book that says children with ADHD, severe dyslexia and OCD won’t achieve, and instead he is just amazing and achieves anything that he puts his mind to.

We also have a teen who is ‘academic’ and who works so hard to fulfil his potential (and my goodness, what potential). He has significant dyslexia, autism (not Asperger’s or HF, autism), clinical anxiety and has to have coloured paper as white triggers visual distress, and he uses his individualism and unique way of thinking to excel in maths, sciences and art. His grades are amazing – way above those of many neurotypical students, and why shouldn’t they be? He is incredibly clever, and academic (because they’re not necessarily the same thing) and will excel at whatever scientific or artistic field he chooses after formal education.

Had you told me 24 years ago that the baby I was carrying and the one that would follow 8 years later would have serious health issues as babies (yes, our eldest was ill as a baby too and had to have regular scans until he was a teen), would have SENDs, mental health issues and we would be battling schools and employers for the next 24+ years, I would have been terrified. I wouldn’t have known what to think, but I would have been sure that I wouldn’t have been able to cope.

However, I would never, ever want any other children. My kids are amazing and inspirational. They brighten every single say – this morning as they were unloading the dishwasher they were making each other laugh, and our eldest had full adhd kick in after having more sleep than usual and was making up songs and singing to the bran flake box! Yes, we might not be able to go away overnight because, well, we just can’t. We might have to avoid cafes and restaurants if they are too noisy. We may have mess all over the house and towels may all end up on the floor of the older one’s bedroom, but we also have laughter and the best kind of chaos and deep conversations and squeeze-all-the-sadness-away hugs, and we are a very together, happy family.

Twenty four years ago, this scenario wouldn’t necessarily have been what I would have chosen, but thank goodness you don’t always get what you want. We are living, and loving, the life we have, and I wouldn’t change a thing!