I won’t beat around the bush—my love for my son is immeasurable, yet the hurt he inflicts on me is profound. Whether it’s pulling my hair, kicking, punching, or recklessly throwing himself at me, the physical toll is stark. The worst, however, is the biting. The pain is real, leaving scars I carry not as badges of honor but as reminders of the emotional turmoil I endure. There have been moments when I’ve thought about shaving my head, not just to escape the hair-pulling but out of fear for how he might hurt others and how they might react.
He never intends to harm me; he isn’t even aware that he’s hurting anyone. The conflict within me is palpable—my heart tells me, “This is my child, and I know he means no harm,” while my mind counters, “No one should have to live like this.”
There was a time when he was the sweetest, most affectionate little boy. Those days felt magical. But now, I dread the thought of caring for someone who can cause me pain, as my instinct is to shower him with love and affection. My husband has urged me to stop being so physically affectionate, blaming my closeness for the hurt I receive. My heart shattered further as I felt forced into a caretaker role rather than embracing my role as his mother.
Despite my efforts to seek help—making calls, advocating for services, and attending therapy—I often feel like a fraud. I see a shell of my son, and it’s painful to witness the regression that comes with Phelan-McDermid Syndrome (PMS). This condition has stripped away parts of him and revealed the reality of our lives. With regression being a common occurrence in PMS, I fear the progress we’ve made could vanish.
I often grapple with feelings of disappointment in myself as a mother. The physical and mental exhaustion of caring for someone who continues to hurt me is overwhelming. I don’t want to live in fear of my own child. I feel trapped in my love for him, wishing it were simpler. I am committed to supporting him, but the toll is heavy—on my marriage, on my daughter, and on my mental health.
I worry about his future, especially the idea that he might harm someone who lacks the patience or understanding required to care for him. The thought of him being misunderstood or mistreated keeps me awake at night. Cognitive impairment, like his, can lead to an inability to comprehend pain—his or mine. I am terrified of the potential for abuse or worse; this is the harsh reality we face.
As we navigate these challenging times together, I often think about other mothers who share this struggle. They, too, love their children who may hurt them. I know they exist, fighting their own battles in silence, dreading the daily challenges. I am that mother.
This is my life, and I have no choice but to embrace it.
For additional insights on the journey of motherhood, you might find this blog post valuable. Additionally, Make A Mom is a great authority on fertility matters. For those seeking more information on insemination, Healthline offers excellent resources.
Search Queries:
- How to handle aggressive behavior in children with disabilities?
- Coping strategies for parents of children with Phelan-McDermid Syndrome.
- Emotional challenges of parenting a child with cognitive impairments.
- Support resources for mothers dealing with difficult parenting situations.
- Understanding regression in children with special needs.
Summary:
This heartfelt reflection explores the deep love and pain experienced by a mother caring for her son with Phelan-McDermid Syndrome, who unintentionally inflicts physical harm. It highlights the emotional conflict between love and fear, the challenges of parenting a child with cognitive impairments, and the shared struggles among mothers in similar situations.