My life is actually great, thanks

Negativity abounds these days. On the news, in the media, practically everywhere you go. It is so easy to let the negativity get to you, to make you feel like crap about yourself, about your parenting, about your kids.

Comparing ourselves to others is what we do. Try as you might, it is nearly impossible not to compare your experience in life to that of others. Take, for example, the recent trending topic of Mommy Wars. I'll give you my experience to consider.

My husband and I were blessed with a perfect little boy, our first born. He never lost weight, ate like a champ, hit all his milestones early. At 3.5years, he is often mistaken for a child a couple years older, both in looks and in his communication and motor skills. Brag, brag... I was new to the whole parenting scene with him. None of my IRL friends had kids, so I sought out a local parenting group. I wanted to know if we were normal, if I was doing a good job, if I was "succeeding".

I did not like the group, AT ALL. It was a constant brag fest, and I lost a few friendships over people lying through their teeth about how well their children were excelling. I didn't like how so many people thought they needed to augment the truth, to make their BABIES seem better. As babies, these children were already having to live up to unrealistic expectations. I stopped going to the meetups, and stuck to my online due date group, a group of women I bonded with over our pregnancies, deliveries, and following years. It was nice to have a group of women to go to, who could answer my questions on any issues, breastfeeding questions, baby poop, you name it. And, if I didn't want to participate in the race to meet milestones (milestones J was meeting anyway) I didn't have to.

We were blindsided when my pregnancy with our second child hit a rocky road. She was born 8 weeks early, presenting 4 weeks delayed on top of that. In the NICU, I started comparing her to other preemies, wondering why she wasn't orally feeding when they were, why she didn't cry, why she slept all.the.time.

We got an explanation, by way of her being diagnosed with a genetic disorder, when she was four months old.

Until then, I'd relied on my online mama group (a new one I'd joined when we first found out we were pregnant with E), but by the time we got her diagnosis, I didn't feel right bombarding them with my questions. Besides, I told myself, they couldn't possibly understand what we were going through.

I sought out a diagnosis-specific support group. It was easy to find, and populated by almost a thousand individuals. I thought I had found a haven, a group of supportive people who would hold my hand and tell me that everything was going to be alright. I expected that they were going to be as amazing as my two due date groups had been. Holy cow, was I ever wrong. My joining the group turned out to be a tremendous mistake.

What I soon discovered, was that unless E was as "affected", as "delayed" as the "normal" individual with this disorder, my sharing of her triumphs, of her accomplishments wasn't welcome. At a low point in my membership, one mother got very nasty, telling me my opinions on E's future were ridiculous, told me that we were lucky, because our journey had been "so easy" to that point, and the worst was yet to come. For the record, at that point, E had spent approximately 6 months in hospital, in her first year. I can't even begin to tell you how devastating it was to participate in such a depressing group, with people who attacked at nothing, and who shit on any joy we had in having E as part of our family.

I was offended that anyone could possibly consider our experience "lucky". I was offended they didn't support E in her achievements. I was hurt that they could be so mean, when we were all connected by the same disorder. I felt rejected, I felt like E was rejected, from a group that should have been supportive.

Then, I had an epiphany. No one who is happy, who is loving life, and making the best of their situation, seeks out a specialised support group. I had labelled myself a Special Needs Parent, and I wasn't happy. I wanted a group to commiserate with. Misery certainly loves company.

People join those groups to make them feel better about themselves. They take the failures, delays and disabilities of others, and feel better knowing someone else has it worse off. As much as "normal" mommy groups (at least the ones I've been to IRL) pit one baby's achievements over those of another, Special Needs groups did the opposite, with a "My child has it worse of than yours" attitude.

There was so much negativity, so much focus on the "monster" my child would become, on her predicted inability to ever amount to anything other than a food-seeking demon. I reached my breaking point. I quit the group, culled my Facebook list of the "friends" I'd added from the group, saving only those mama friends who shared in my mindset, and I went back to my due date mama group.

Everyone there loves E for who she is, not for what she's lacking. They've been incredibly supportive, so loving, so caring, I can't believe I didn't trust in them to get me through the roughest part of the journey.

They helped me realise just how lucky we ARE to have her in our lives, and how lucky she is to have us as parents. Her condition will likely present us with some challenges as time goes on, but it the condition is NOT our life, and it most certainly does not define her.

E is just E. A tiny, curly haired blondie, with bright blue eyes, who loves her family, loves the outdoors, giggling, being thrown into the air and being loved. She is going to do whatever she does, whenever she is ready and willing. She will amaze us.

I will not compare her to anyone but her. You wouldn't believe how far she's come.

E is just fine, she's perfectly her, and you know what? So are we.