We can try to compare miseries, heartaches, injustices but, in the end, it becomes impossible. By Diana Kupershmit
special needs
Our married life was no longer comfortable. There was no indulgence, no whispered promises of sweet dessert. By Hannah Grieco
I told Mama to stop taking me to doctors when I was twelve. I didn’t want to be a burden. By SaraGrace Griffin
Eighteen years later, nothing has changed. All the firsts I had been praying for never came. By Shauna Actis
I’m terrified that my teenager, who has Down syndrome, won’t ever find real love—and also that she will, but that it won’t be the right kind. By Amy Silverman
I was raised to believe that my differences didn’t have to limit or set me apart. But the world disagreed. By Meg Zucker
Are we to blame for our children’s frailties? The easy response is of course not. The honest answer is yes and no. By Nan Mooney
I held his illness deep inside me the way I would hold shame. In the dark, it rotted and grew. By Laura Leffler
My son’s fight or flight mechanism often shut out his ability to function. I was devastated I had not been able to help him. By Jill Dyer
We connected through the magic of the internet. Her son was in crisis. Could I help?
By Brianne DeRosa