You are Welcome Here

Cooper 7

You are welcome here.

I see so many posts online telling parents how to feel about their child’s diagnosis.

Some tell them to only see the positive. To celebrate every part of it.

Some shame them for saying they are scared. Or hard. Or that they are worried.

Some tell them they are awful parents.

Some ridicule them for thinking a certain way.

Some act self riotous because they didn’t shed a tear when their child was diagnosed. And they shame anyone who did.

I read those posts and they make me feel icky inside. Like I did something wrong.

I can’t be the only one.

So. I just want to say. No matter where you are in the world of parenting disability. You are welcome here.

Whether you are in the beginning stages where fear and worry seem to rule…you are welcome here.

Whether you are just passed the diagnosis and settling into a new, unknown world where you don’t speak the language…you are welcome here.

Whether you are beaten down from fighting for every basic right for your child and swear you can’t do it anymore…you are welcome here.

Whether you are just settling in. Or still feel like a fish out of water. You are welcome here.

Whether you haven’t slept through the night in years and cry in the shower and scream in your car…you are welcome here.

Whether you are in the hardest of hard parts. Maybe there is aggression or self injuring and not one person in your world understands what you are going through. You are welcome here.

Whether you’ve lost friends and family. And you can’t leave your house. And you have locks on your doors and you spend every second keeping another human safe. You are welcome here.

And maybe you are passed a lot of that. Like I am. Maybe you see the beauty weaved through the hard parts and the joy in walking the less traveled path. You are welcome here.

Maybe you see this is a gift. Or a superpower. Or a blessing. Or maybe not. You are welcome here.

Or maybe, like me, you long for easy sometimes. For words. For kindness in a cruel world.

Or maybe you sat in your car watching a group of kids play football and wonder what it would be like if your child could do those things. Play. Speak. And so on. And for a brief second you feel envy. And then you hate yourself.

No matter where you are. Happy. Sad. Scared. Joyful. Worried. Angry. Jealous. Proud. Or a combination of all. You are welcome here.

I will never tell you how to feel. But I will sit with you. And share our world to help you feel a little less alone.

It takes time to figure this all out. At least it did for me. And I will give you grace as you do so.

And remember, you are allowed to grow. You are allowed to feel one thing and then another and then another. You are human. You are allowed to do better and fall down and get up and start again.

You are welcome here. And I will never tell you how too feel.

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.

 

 

 

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Kate Swenson

Kate Swenson lives in Minnesota with her husband Jamie, and four children, Cooper, Sawyer, Harbor and Wynnie. Kate launched Finding Cooper's Voice from her couch while her now 11-year-old son Cooper was being diagnosed with autism. Back then it was a place to write. Today it is a living, thriving community of people who want to not only advocate for autism, but also make the world a better place for individuals with disabilities and their families. Her first book, Forever Boy, will be released, April 5, 2022.

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