I was 36 when Daisy was born. I already had seven years of parenting under my belt.
I was acutely aware that in many ways I had so much more in my favour than many other parents embarking on the journey of caring for a complex child. I was probably closer in age to many of the professionals treating my daughter over the years, I had reached a high level of academic attainment in my own chosen field of expertise, I spoke fluent english and I had the support of one of the best management development coaches in the business, my own husband. I knew how to negotiate, I knew how to manage complex projects.
Yet despite all of that, entering a room full of professionals who were all gathered to discuss the fate of my child was one of the toughest things I have had to do. Nothing in my previous life could prepare me for it. I felt disempowered and vulnerable.
Yet despite all of that, entering a room full of professionals who were all gathered to discuss the fate of my child was one of the toughest things I have had to do. Nothing in my previous life could prepare me for it. I felt disempowered and vulnerable.
