The Parent I Thought I’d Be vs. The Parent My Child Needed

I’ve always liked a good plan. Structure and a clear trajectory brought me a sense of security. In my twenties, I was certain I didn’t want children. It wasn’t that I was anti-family—I just didn’t see parenting as my path. But, like any good plan, things can change.

My husband and I shared this view, but during pre-marital counseling, we acknowledged that the future was unpredictable. That small moment of openness planted a seed.

Four years into our marriage, a work training on beliefs and assumptions made me question my certainty about not having children. Around the same time, I observed that nursing home residents with engaged families seemed happier. My professional understanding of social bonds, combined with these observations, shifted something in me. The certainty I once held softened.

When we decided to have a child, I approached it like any well-planned project. I researched everything—parenting philosophies, routines, feeding approaches. My husband took a relaxed approach, trusting we’d figure it out. Our first child’s early years were very typical. She met milestones on time, and our parenting experience largely aligned with what we had envisioned. But then, our second child was born, and everything I thought I knew—about parenting, planning, control—was turned upside down.

Little prepared me for the fear, vulnerability, and uncertainty of parenting a child with medical and developmental differences. No book or research could have readied me for the emotional complexity of raising a child who needed more support than I ever imagined.

As our oldest grew, we also discovered that she had a significant medical issue that required attention. Suddenly, we were navigating the medical and developmental journeys of both our children at the same time. Balancing therapies, doctor’s appointments, and emotional well-being became an overwhelming and unrelenting part of our daily lives.

Many parenting books offer guidance on raising a typical child, but few address what it means to parent the child you didn’t expect. When milestones don’t unfold as anticipated, parenting takes on a new meaning. Some parents embrace differences immediately; others struggle with fear and grief. Regardless, raising a child with developmental challenges can be isolating. It’s not about a child being less or more—it’s simply different from what was imagined.

I write this to remind you that you are not alone. Whether your child has medical challenges, a diagnosis of Autism, or developmental delays, your experience is valid. Your love, exhaustion, worry, and joy—all of it matters.

In 16 years as a pediatric occupational therapist, I’ve sat with countless parents who feel unseen. Parenting any child requires patience and resilience, but when development is disrupted, the demands can be overwhelming. Routines shift, resources become harder to find, and the traditional parenting roadmap no longer applies.

If you are on this path, I see you. I hear you. I am you.

Parenting the child you have, rather than the child you imagined, is a journey of both loss and discovery. It forces us to redefine progress, success, and joy. And in doing so, it offers a deeper understanding of what it truly means to love unconditionally.

This space is for that journey. A space to honor the complexity, beauty, and resilience of parenting a child whose needs reshape everything you thought you knew. You are not alone. Together, we can redefine what it means to parent with love, intention, and an open heart.

-Amy

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How Parenting a Child with Differences Shaped My Work as a Pediatric Occupational Therapist