They are mothers and disabled

Florence, mother of Théo, 9 years old: “Motherhood was obvious, but I knew that everyday life would require tips…”

“It took a lot of love, good physical and psychological endurance so that my fragile body can support a pregnancy. It also took a good dose of mastery, to overcome the sometimes derogatory remarks of strangers or health professionals. Finally, I accepted long genetic analyzes and rigorous medical surveillance, to achieve the most beautiful thing in the world: to give life. It was neither impossible nor dangerous. It was, however, more complicated for a woman like me. I have glass bone disease. I have all my mobility and sensations, but my legs would break if they had to support the weight of my body. I therefore use a manual wheelchair and drive a converted vehicle. The urge to be a mother and start a family was much stronger than any difficulty.

Théo was born, magnificent, a treasure that I could contemplate from his first cry. Having refused general anesthesia, I benefited from a spinal anesthesia which, in my case and despite the competence of the professionals, does not work correctly. I was only numb on one side. This suffering was compensated by meeting Theo and my happiness to be a mother. A mother who is also very proud to be able to breastfeed her in a body that responded perfectly! I took care of Theo by developing a lot of ingenuity and complicity between us. When he was a baby, I wore him in a sling, then when he sat down, I tied him to me with a belt, like in airplanes! Bigger, he called “transforming car”, my converted vehicle equipped with a movable arm…

Théo is now 9 years old. He is cuddly, curious, smart, greedy, empathetic. I like to see him run and laugh. I like the way he looks at me. Today, he is also a big brother. Once again, with a wonderful man, I had the chance to give birth to a little girl. A new adventure begins for our blended and united family. At the same time, in 2010, I created the Handiparentalité * association, in partnership with the Papillon de Bordeaux center, to help other parents with motor and sensory disabilities. During my first pregnancy, I sometimes felt helpless for lack of information or sharing. I wanted to fix it on my scale.

Our association, against a background of disability awareness, works and campaigns to inform, offer many services and support disabled parents. Throughout France, our relay mothers make themselves available to listen, inform, reassure, lift the brakes on disability and guide people in demand. We are mothers otherwise, but mothers above all! “

* The Handiparentalité association informs and supports disabled parents. It also offers the loan of adapted equipment.

Jessica, mother of Melyna, 10 months: “Little by little, I positioned myself as a mother.”

“I got pregnant in a month… Becoming a mother was the role of my life despite my handicap! Very quickly, I had to rest and limit my movements. I had a miscarriage first. I doubted a lot. And then after 18 months, I got pregnant again. Despite the worry, I felt ready in my head and in my body.

The first few weeks after giving birth were difficult. For lack of confidence. I delegated a lot, I was a spectator. With the cesarean and the handicap of my arm, I couldn’t take my daughter to the maternity ward when she was crying. I saw her cry and there was nothing I could do except look at her.

Gradually, I positioned myself as a mom. Of course, I have limits. I don’t do things very fast. I take a lot of “sweats” every day when changing Melyna. When she wriggles it can take 30 minutes, and if 20 minutes later I have to start over, I have lost 500g! Feeding her if she has decided to hit with the spoon is also very sporty: I can’t wrestle with one hand! I have to adapt and find other ways of doing things. But I discovered my faculties: I even manage to give it the bath independently! It’s true, I can’t do everything, but I have my strengths: I listen, I laugh a lot with her, we have a lot of fun. “

Antinea, mother of Alban and Titouan, 7 years old, and Heloïse, 18 months: “It’s the story of my life, not that of a disabled person.”

“When I was expecting my twins, I asked myself many questions. How to carry a newborn baby, how to give a bath? All mothers grope, but disabled mothers even more so, because the equipment is not always suitable. Some relatives have “opposed” my pregnancy. In fact, they were opposed to the idea of ​​me becoming a mother, saying, “You are a child, how are you going to deal with a child?” »Motherhood often puts disability in the foreground, followed by concerns, guilt or doubts.

When I was pregnant, no one commented on me anymore. Of course, with twins my family was worried about me, but they came to term healthy and I was fine too.

The twins’ father died of an illness some time later. I continued with my life. Then I met my current husband, he welcomed my twins as his own and we wanted another child. My children’s dads have always been wonderful people. Héloïse was born carefree, she immediately sucked in a very natural, very obvious way. Breastfeeding is often more complicated to receive from the outside, by those around you.

Ultimately, my experience is that I did not let go of my deepest motherhood desires. Today, no one doubts that my choices were the right ones. “

Valérie, mother of Lola, 3 years old: “At birth, I insisted on keeping my hearing aid, I wanted to hear Lola’s first cry.”

“I was profoundly hard of hearing from birth, suffering from Waardenburg syndrome type 2, diagnosed after DNA research. When I got pregnant, there were feelings of joy and fulfillment combined with worry and dread about the significant risk of passing on deafness to my child. The beginning of my pregnancy was marked by the separation from the dad. Very early on, I knew I was going to have a daughter. My pregnancy was going well. The more the fateful date of arrival approached, the more my impatience and my fear of meeting this little being grew. I was worried about the idea that she might be deaf, but also that I myself could not hear the medical team well at the time of childbirth, which I wanted under an epidural. The midwives on the ward were very supportive, and my family was very involved.

The labor was so long that I was in the maternity hospital for two days without being able to give birth. On the third day, an emergency caesarean was decided. I was scared because the team, given the protocol, explained to me that I could not keep my hearing aid. It was absolutely inconceivable that I did not hear my daughter’s first cry. I explained my distress and I was finally able to keep my prosthesis after disinfection. Relieved, I still released a palpable state of stress. The anesthetist, to relax me, showed me his tattoos, which made me smile; the whole team of the block was very cheerful, two people dancing and singing to make the atmosphere happy. And then, the anesthetist, stroking my forehead, said to me: “Now you can laugh or cry, you are a pretty mother”. And what I had been waiting for for those long wonderful months of a fulfilling pregnancy happened: I heard my daughter. That’s it, I was a mom. My life took on a new meaning in front of this little wonder weighing 4,121 kg. Above all, she was fine and could hear very well. I could only be happy …

Today, Lola is a happy little girl. It has become my reason for living and the reason for my fight against my deafness, which is slowly declining. Also more committed, I am leading an initiation-awareness workshop on sign language, a language that I want to share more. This language enriches communication so much! It can be for example an additional means to support a sentence difficult to express. In young children, it is an interesting tool to allow them to communicate with others while waiting for oral language. Finally, she helps to decipher certain emotions in her child, by learning to observe him differently. I like this idea of ​​fostering the creation of a different bond between parents and children. ”