When my daughter was just a few months old, I found myself joining a group for new moms, a community gathering that took place every Wednesday at a local center in Oakland, California. This group was filled with mothers who had all given birth, yet I stood out as a different kind of parent. My journey into motherhood began not through childbirth, but through fostering my daughter, a journey that has since led to her adoption by my husband and me. Uniquely, I was the only disabled parent in that groupor at least the only one I was aware of. Living with a connective tissue disorder known as Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, along with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, I faced challenges that my fellow moms may not have encountered. Interestingly, despite those challenges, I found myself adjusting to parenthood with a surprising amount of ease compared to the other mothers, who often expressed doubts about their identities and anxieties about the demands of their newborns.

This unforeseen contrast in experiences left me pondering my situation. Initially, I attributed it to the fact that the other mothers were recovering from childbirth, while I wasnt. However, upon deeper reflection, I began to suspect that my experience might not be so unusual among parents with disabilities.

This essay draws from insights gathered in my forthcoming book, Unfit Parent, published by Beacon Press, where I explore the myriad ways in which disability shapes the experience of parenthood.

Over the past few years, I have engaged in conversations with a diverse range of parents, both disabled and nondisabled, spanning various racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic backgrounds. I connected with many of the disabled parents through a Facebook group tailored for that community, where most members had physical disabilities, though some also navigated intellectual or neurological challenges. My interactions with nondisabled parents primarily consisted of friends and acquaintances. Its essential to note that my sample wasnt statistically representative, nor was I conducting a formal academic study. Instead, my aim was to informally identify common challenges faced by each group during the early stages of parenting. During these conversations, a clear pattern emerged, leading me to believe that living with a disabilityand engaging with disability culturehad equipped me with unique skills that proved invaluable in the demanding landscape of early parenthood.

One compelling way to conceptualize the initial week of parenthood is to view it as a period when many family members temporarily experience a form of disability. The presence of a new baby demands unceasing attention, and the parent who gave birthwhether biologically or through adoptionis often left in a state of vulnerability as well. The exhaustion is palpable, and for those who are not disabled, the sudden need to rely on others for basic bodily needs while also caring for a demanding infant can be an overwhelming experience. As Jennifer Natalya Fink articulates in her work, All Our Families: Disability Lineage and the Future of Kinship, fear of disability often stems from the anxiety about requiring care. Yet, in the postpartum period, nearly every new parent finds themselves in need of support.

Many of the nondisabled parents I spoke with described the first week of bringing their baby home as one of the most challenging times they had ever faced. For some, the realization of needing to meet their newborns demandswhile grappling with the uncertainty of a future defined by those demandsfelt insurmountable. Rachel Somerstein, author of Invisible Labor: The Untold Story of the Cesarean Section, shared that at times when her daughter cried, the overwhelming nature of motherhood led her to believe that the baby would continue crying until she was ready for college. Other mothers recounted harrowing moments when their bodies failed them. One mother described a frightening episode in which she fell asleep on the floor, only to find herself unable to get up for twenty minutes due to weakened stomach muscles. Through our discussions, it became evident that these parents were grappling with a painful reality: no amount of willpower could force either their babies or their bodies to comply with their expectations.

In contrast, many of the disabled parents I spoke with had spent years navigating the complexities of living in a body that often resists cooperation. They had learned, sometimes through difficult experiences, that recovery from surgery can be unpredictable and lengthy. Jessie Owen, for instance, became quadriplegic following a car accident in her twenties and later gave birth to twins via C-section. Despite experiencing preeclampsia and dealing with prolonged high blood pressure post-delivery, she found the initial week with her babies to be relatively manageable. Dealing with recovery was pretty breezy, Owen reflected. I didnt feel great, for sure, but it wasnt all that bad.

It is important to recognize that not every disabled or nondisabled parent shares the same experiences as those I interviewed. Disability is just one of many factors influencing the early days of parenthood. In my own situation, I had the advantage of a supportive partner, financial stability, a solid mental health foundation, and no physical trauma resulting from childbirth. However, being disabled has taught me critical lessons that have significantly influenced my parenting approach.

Living in an inaccessible world as a disabled individual requires constant innovation and problem-solving, skills that are immensely beneficial in parenting. Disabled people have years of figuring out how to get along, Lisa Iezzoni, a professor of medicine at Harvard University, noted. Every day, we navigate a world not designed for us. Its no surprise that we would be particularly well-equipped to tackle challenges like parenthood.

As nearly every expectant parent will discover, plans often go awrysometimes in spectacular fashion. For parents who have a concrete vision of how things should unfold, deviations from that plan can lead to feelings of devastation. However, disabled parents may be better prepared for these inevitable adjustments and less likely to internalize blame when things dont go as expected. My years of living with a disability have instilled in me a realistic expectation of challenges. This outlook, while it may seem pessimistic, has proved protective. When one facet of my life falters, I dont automatically assume that everything else will follow suit. For instance, when we welcomed our second child through surrogacy in 2024, complications arose during the birth that put both our surrogate and baby at risk. Despite the intensity of those moments, I fought to maintain a sense of calm and stability.

Like all parents, disabled parents are imperfect. Yet, embracing our shortcomings may be one of the most invaluable lessons that parenthood imparts. I once believed that with the right choices, a healthy lifestyle, and hard work, I could attain an ideal existence. However, becoming disabled at the age of 28 forced me to confront the limits of that belief system. It became clear that no amount of effort could restore the capacities I had lost, prompting a profound shift in my worldview.

Now, I find myself less critical of what others might perceive as my shortcomings in early parenting: whether that be opting for formula, taking a relaxed approach to sleep schedules, or allowing the television to play in the background too frequently. Ive learned to see my mistakes as minor in the grand scheme of things. Additionally, Ive grown more comfortable asking for assistance. Before I met my partner and became a parent, I relied on friends to help with trips to the doctor, hanging shower curtains, and even taking out the trash. This community support cultivated a readiness to seek help when managing a newborn, a mindset that has proven beneficial.

This perspective isnt exclusive to disabled parents; in fact, embracing this mindset can be a source of relief for any parent. It might involve letting go of the idea of purchasing the latest expensive stroller and settling for a safe second-hand one or asking for more help during nighttime feedings. While this vision of parenthood may appear less aspirational, flexibility and compassion are essential when faced with the physical exhaustion of labor, sleepless nights, and the overwhelming shift in family dynamics. Once I learned to extend compassion to myself, I began to recognize that I was providing my baby with precisely what they needed.

This essay is adapted from Jessica Slices forthcoming book, Unfit Parent.