Lordt… aside from the traumas, sacrifices are another ginormous list of things I’ve had too much of in my life 😅

I lost parts of myself along the way to The Plague, Gravity, The Dementor, and various other “adults” that came and went. So, I suppose the biggest sacrifice I made was my sense of self, but… was it really a sacrifice?! I’m fairly certain that “sacrifice” is an act based on willingness, no? Sacrifice, in its core meaning, involves giving up something valued, whether material or immaterial, for the sake of something else deemed more important or beneficial. Thus, in moments of trauma, giving a part of myself up for the sake of safety truly is a sacrifice in it’s own right… even if it sucks [blue] whale anus…

LMAO – ok, not sorry, time for a vital and informational SIDE QUEST: Did you know that a whale’s anus can open up to 3.5 feet in diameter (that’s 42 inches)?!

So yeah… when I say “<insert thing> sucks whale anus” – that’s somethin’ major. I mean, think about it… if the average span of a man’s shoulders is 16 inches… you could EASILY fit one inside a whale borthole at max dilation.

Gawd, my sense of humor is terrible sometimes 😛 You’re welcome?!

Aaanyhooo… where was I?! Sacrifices! Yes, yes. Expelling (heh, see what I did there?!) things in the name of benefit.

Of all the sacrifices I’ve made in my life, the one that gave me the greatest benefit (and trauma) was becoming a “special needs” mom. I sacrificed a lot of my physical health just HAVING a baby (which, btw, amounted to 10 lbs 3 oz when he was born by cesarean). I often refer to this time as having had a parasite (oh, come on now, that’s funny!) because a parasite is “an organism that lives in or on an organism of another species (its host) and benefits by deriving nutrients at the other’s expense.” Ignore the “of another species” part, that’s not important… it’s funny because it’s [mostly] true. Babies drain us like parasites, ok?!

So yeah… my son was diagnosed with autism at 2.5 yrs old. The first sacrifice in that regard was my grand ideas and dreams of “normal.” I knew before his diagnosis that he was autistic, though it took 2 trusted people in my life to bring it to my attention, point out why, and hours upon HOURS of constant research (I had no idea what it was back then) to admit the truth.

PLEASE bear with me on this one, cuz this is gonna be one of those controversial things that a LOT of people very much dislike and disagree with (and I’m not sorry, this is the truth as I experienced it).

I don’t remember the day I finally sacrificed the idea that I had a “normal and healthy” son. That this version of my son had “died” (I said bear with me). That is legitimately what it felt like to me, though. He WAS growing normally, meeting milestones, learning to count in 3 different languages, saying words, making eye-contact, playing and laughing. And then… he wasn’t. I’m going to skip over the “why” – mostly because I’m tired of people telling me it isn’t possible (seriously, keep that shite to yourself, it doesn’t change anything at this point). Within a single week he went from being an engaged, intelligent, and happy little boy to a literal shell of himself. He was a completely different child.

Now… don’t get me wrong, this did NOT change the unconditional love I had for him whatsoever. It caused a lot of trauma in me, sure, but there was no way I was going to give up on him. In fact, with the official evaluation (that I had to fight his ignorant pediatrician for) and diagnosis… it solidified my resolve to create the best life I could for and with him, and I fought every single day of his life to make that shit happen.

I sacrificed almost everything about myself (for YEARS) to be the Super Mom he needed to have a decent chance at life. The day he graduated was one of the proudest days of my life. He worked his ass off, backed by my endless love and support, to get to that day. He still requires adult supervision to this day (he is 19 now and living with Gravity), but he is who he is now, able to do the things he does now, because I was there teaching, encouraging, and fighting for him. I did that. Me, a single mother with her own progressively worsening mental/physical disabilities – because I sacrificed a LOT of my own needs in order to fulfill his.

And this is on top of just being a mother and all THAT entails. Any GOOD mom knows just how hard it is and how much we sacrifice on any given day, but “special needs” moms?! It takes a special kind of Superhero to accomplish the sacrifices necessary to endure raising a special needs human.

My self-esteem has been shit for decades, so it’s taken me a long time (and tons of therapy/acknowledgement from loved ones) to admit that I was a integral person in my son’s life… that I was the best mom I could be, despite my own shortcomings and doubts.

So in the end… the best sacrifice I’ve made to date is my “insecurity and self-doubt.” 😉