It’s been a long day. The baby has been unsettled, the toddler has been pushing boundaries and the eldest has been demanding attention.  All of this while you are in and out of the car trying to get to multiple appointments on time, and run errands with minimal tears and tantrums. You are finally home, and you are just holding it together to get through dinner-bath-bed so you can unceremoniously collapse on the couch to watch trashy tv and drink a cup of hot tea before the baby’s last feed. Bedtime can not come quick enough.....

This has been my week. But in this period of chaos and mayhem, my sweet, sweet boy pulled the rug from under me with this moment of pure beauty and love - reaching for his baby sisters hand - and in the blink of an eye I am reduced to tears of love and pride. This small, touching gesture speaks volumes, is greater than many will ever realise, and represents just how far we have come.

Our boy Christopher is severely disabled. We attend multiple appointments weekly - specialists, therapists, early intervention, playgroups, doctors, treatments and studies. It is relentless and unforgiving. But it ensures he is able to live his best life and that this is not the last time I get to squeeze him and kiss him good night. 

This doesn’t stop the Mum-guilt I feel towards my two precious girls. They are pulled in and out of the car, to and from appointments, shipped off to Nanny’s when we are at the hospital and often have to wait for me to finish feeding or medicating their brother before I can attend to their needs, or focus on what they want to share with me.  

 

But then this happens...

 

It is in moments like this that I am reminded what siblings bring to each other’s lives. That Christopher has taught Charlotte and Matilda lessons some people will never learn before they have learnt anything else. He enables them to live life with empathy and compassion in their hearts. 

 

 

And the girls bring a dynamic and joy to Christopher’s life that Tom and I could never replicate. They will communicate with him, advocate for him and love him unlike anyone else. And the way he gazes at them - be still my beating heart! 

 

It might be hard some days. It may look impossible from the outside. But Tom and I have no regrets about our family. We are so incredibly proud of each individual child, but even more so of the respect, understanding, interest for and love they show one another. Siblings are a gift and there is no greater gift we could ever give our children - especially our Christopher.

It is moments like this that all the tears and tantrums, the negotiations and bribery, the exhaustion, the mum-guilt, the hard work and the stress are all forgotten, and are so, so worth it!

- Pam xx

 

This is a guest blog from Mumma Pam Rogers, mother-of-3 from Canberra, Australia. She is a part of the baby luno Mum Diaries team and will be blogging regularly as she continues on her motherhood journey and we can't wait to follow.

Read more blogs like this here.

 

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