These mountains that you are carrying; you were only supposed to climb.
- Najwa Zebian
Bam.
Scrolling through Facebook the other day and that little quote hit me straight between the eyes.
Seeing a motivational meme is no surprise. I have subscribed to pages and unfollowed others, carefully and strategically over the years, to intentionally fill my quick, ten-minutes-with-my-coffee-before-the-morning-frenzy-begins scroll, with a mix of upbeat and soul-filled posts. The surprise was the impact it had on me. The one downside of a newsfeed filled with soul-filled posts is they tend to become a bit ‘samey’ after a while. Beautiful and inspiring, for sure, but more general glow for the day than massive impact.
These mountains that you are carrying; you were only supposed to climb.
The words carried with me through the morning; and now onto the page. Obviously, easily transferable to any sort of life situation or issue, it made me think of us. Us. The tribe I have gathered without ever intending to. The special needs mum club. We so do this.
These mountains that you are carrying; you were only supposed to climb.
We take on special needs mothering as though we are ninja warriors at an Olympic event (I’m fairly certain ninja warrior-ing is not an Olympic event, but you get my drift). We pick up that mountain and we own it, Sister. We hoist it onto our shoulders like it’s a backpack and we lug it around all day long: sometimes staggering under the weight; sometimes taking it in our stride; never forgetting that it’s there.
Is it a safety thing? Is it a burden that we feel obligated to carry; some sort of penance?
As though being a mum who has a child who happens to have a disability isn’t enough.
We have to fight. Fight the system. Fight for services. Fight for people to see our incredible child for all that they are and not just the label.
We have to inspire. Run fundraising events. Run not-for-profits. Run marathons to raise funds for those not-for-profits.
We have to learn. Fast. About everything. All things medical: jargon pouring from our mouths as if we’ve done the hard yards at med school. How to make therapy fun and part of everyday activities. About funding, and IEPs, and who the good paediatrician is, and where to get the best coffee at the hospital. How to function as we watch our precious child struggle, fail, hurt, sick, die.
And, just for good measure, we have to blog about the entire experience.
Make a difference. Make ourselves heard.
These mountains that you are carrying; you were only supposed to climb.
A moment. A sharp intake of breath. A realisation. I do this. I am carrying my child’s disability on my back all day long and have been for almost seven very long years.
We fill the minutes, and the days, and the years with the fighting, and the inspiring, and the learning; hoping and expecting that they will help us on our journey.
What are we doing?
These mountains that you are carrying; you were only supposed to climb.
The weight and the pressure and the obligation that we carry with us; are they necessary? Is the real ‘burden’ of this life the disability or the expectations we put on ourselves?
There is immense pressure in the parenting world to do it all perfectly. The special needs parenting arena presents you with the same pressure and upsizes it. There are large number of incredible women doing amazing things with their lives in the name of their child’s disability. They don’t sleep, of course. But, from the outside at least, they are so winning at this life. The inside voice, the chatter, the rare moments of confession on fairly anonymous online support groups suggest completely differently, but the image presented to the wider world shows them as the epitome of the: “I don’t know how you do it…” brigade.
These mountains that you are carrying; you were only supposed to climb.
Can we put it all to one side? Carefully release ourselves? Allow the person we were before we became a ‘special needs mum’ out from under the weight? Grab a pole and begin the climb? It’s not easy, this life. But, perhaps, if we allow ourselves to pick our way, kindly, over the rocks, up the track and towards the summit, we will be able to notice the sweet air and pause occasionally on a plateau to enjoy the view for a moment before continuing.
Do you know what’s harder than climbing up a mountain? Standing under it.