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I am sure all of you have been asked this question a thousand times when it comes to your WHS child. I know I have since the day Amelia was born. People will look at me, tilt their head, and ask, “How do you do it?”

In the beginning, during the first year, I would pause and squirm a little. In my head, I would scream, “I am not doing anything right and I am falling apart. I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown!” I imagined myself falling on the floor, curling up and slowly rocking, waiting for the psych ward to admit me. But instead, there I stood, my eyes slightly filling with tears, not because of Amelia, but because I knew the psych ward was not coming to give me a break. I would eventually say something like, “I just do!” Secretly, I had no idea how I was going to do any of it; caring for Amelia, working full time, and mothering two very active boys!

But I really took some time the other day to think about this question. This last hospitalization was life threatening and they had to call a code because Amelia stopped breathing. And I realized there are certain things I do to get through a tough situation when it comes to Amelia.

As soon as Amelia is admitted, my husband and extended family create a schedule on who will be at the hospital and who will take care of the boys. Our parents and siblings are amazing and drop whatever they are doing to help us. Not only do I rely on my family for support, but my friends keep me laughing. Several WHS moms set up a thread when Mia was at CHOP and posted random, funny things that had happened to them over the years. Whenever I felt lonely and afraid, I would read the posts and contribute, laughing hysterically at some of the information we shared. I am not sure if they knew it at the time, but this was key to my emotional survival!

I accept help when offered. It took us almost three years to accept help from people outside our family. This time, I was out of work and Joe was only going to work every other day. Friends and coworkers dropped off food, our children’s school collected food and gift cards, and the social worker from Mia’s school set us up with a foundation to help with our utilities. I could not have kept a positive outlook this past hospital stay without all of the help we received.

So now, after three years, my answer has definitely changed. When asked THE QUESTION, I am no longer uncomfortable when I answer. I now understand that all parents of children with special needs look like superheroes to other parents. But in reality, we handle situations the same way as other parents, “Loads of help, a lot of laughter and lots of love!”