Parenting rarely matches our expectations. For those of us raising children with sensory or developmental differences, this gap between expectation and reality can feel especially wide. This is my story of learning to understand and support my son’s unique needs…
…while also learning to let go of my own preconceptions about motherhood.
I became a parent in my mid-twenties, a few weeks before turning 25. Other than a part-time job teaching swim lessons four hours a week, I committed myself to being home with my baby. I had always dreamed of being a mama – partly due to cultural conditioning that normalized stay-at-home parenting, and partly because I had always loved babies.
Now I had my own, and I was grateful to avoid the daily rush between work and daycare. Honestly, I didn’t know how to make enough money to justify childcare costs. There wasn’t a job I knew I could do that would cover daycare expenses.
Mentally, the only option for me was to have a baby and keep him by my side.
Those first two years, I did everything “right.” We spent time outdoors. We built things with our hands – so much that we kept a tape measure in our front room. We spent hours playing with that tape measure. I would hold it while he pulled out the tape. I’d lock the rigid tape in place, and he would run back to me and push the button that released its hold. Then he would throw his head back laughing as the tape rolled itself back into place.
He learned to walk at ten months and soon began constantly running away from me. He craved independence whenever we were in public spaces.
I remember his first time in the children’s class at church. He was 15 months old. My husband, Curtis, set him down in the entrance of the manufactured door. Scott turned around and shut the door as we stood on the opposite side, stunned, thinking he would want to say goodbye—but no!
He was ready to do things by himself!
Before Scott was two, he would insist that we sit on the front lawn so we could see if friends were out. Not long after that he went out by himself knocking doors of friend that he wanted to play with in the neighborhood. We live in a quiet suburb so he was safe doing this, as I would watch from the front lawn.
It just didn’t make sense to me. Why did he never want to be with me?
By the time my son was four, he was extremely defiant. We struggled to get along. His aggression sometimes became so intense that I had to place him in his room for my own safety. When he was almost three, I had had another baby. My second son was starting to walk when the massive fits began. I was at home, dedicated to caring for them both, wondering why my firstborn seemed to reject me.
We were yelling and fighting every day, and I acknowledge that I contributed to this cycle of disruption.
I sought help and guidance from three different therapists through one of the toughest years of my life. One was my own personal therapist, who I was navigating the human emotion of grief with.
(You can read more of my story on grief in my own personal narrative: Why I Started Seeking)
I also counseled with my neighbor, a licensed therapist with a Ph.D. in Behavioral Sciences. We met weekly to discuss the physical and social changes I was experiencing, and I sought her advice about mothering my son.
Finally, I took my son to therapy. The children’s therapist clearly didn’t think anything was wrong with him. She coached me kindly, but after three sessions, it became apparent that the changes needed to happen within my parenting – though sadly, I had wanted her to “fix” my son.
It makes me teary to even acknowledge that I went into parenting thinking that the child would want to support and love me. That he would want to be with me.
There were a lot of confusion that I held within my story, from my own childhood. I have spent the time sifting through these, and I have noticed a big theme over and over. Here’s the truth when it comes to parenting.
The Parent Is In Charge! (Or at least they should be.)
The child is not in charge of a parent’s problems. I learned that in my case, my problems started happening long before my child was born.
Parents are responsible for:
It is ok for a parent to be sad sometimes, and it is ideal when a parent receives emotional support from an adult who is equipped to provide empathy. (Not seek that emotional support from their child.)
Something changed within me when I started learning out primary reflux development along side my best friend that was going through a similar experience with her child. As she was reading, she slowing taught me exercises that I could do with my son to help activate his left and right sides of the brain.
The book she was reading was Sensational Kids: Hope and Help for Children with Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD)
She also started taking her son to an Occupational Therapist to do exercises to help integrate some of his fine motor skills. I’m so grateful that she kept teaching me, because the subject was overwhelming to me at the time.
In my experience within the United States health care system, they have reviewed with me the primal movements and reactions should happen “normally” as my child is growing and developing. A primal reflux are these early developmental actions like swallowing milk, grasping a toy and picking up peas off of the table.
A more nerdy definition of primitive reflexes is sighted here:
“Primitive reflexes are involuntary motor responses originating in the brainstem present after birth in early child development that facilitate survival. Several reflexes are important in the assessment of newborns and young infants. These central nervous system motor responses are eventually inhibited by 4 to 6 months of age as the brain matures and replaces them with voluntary motor activities…” 1
My son’s specific reflex that didn’t develop was “the asymmetric tonic neck reflex is performed by manual rotation of the infant’s head to one side. The infant will extend its arm to the side of the rotated face and flex the contralateral arm.” 1 This reflex of moving the head side to side, should naturally develop between 20 weeks gestation and 3 months old.
His doctor caught this inhibited neck movement at eight months and sent early intervention specialists to our home. However, after spending an hour with our highly interactive child, they dismissed the doctor’s concerns, telling me he was the healthiest child they’d seen in weeks! In my naivety, I continued life without investigating the issue and getting another opinion.
When I told my chiropractor about my four year old son’s behavior he told me to bring him in right away. He believed that the behavior was stemming from a undeveloped primitive reflux. I took him in, and sure enough, the chiropractor said that he had a Retained Spinal Galant Refluxes.
He performed a simple test on my son that I have listed here:
Exercises were recommend to us by the chiropractor, and we continued to visit him for chiropractic adjustments, updates on our progress, and accountability checks.
At the end of this post I have resources listed to get you started on a journey of home exercises!
Some the symptoms that show up in a child with Retained Spinal Galant Refluxes are:
In my child’s case, it manifested as extreme aggravation leading to aggressive reactions.
Parenting hasn’t been what I expected, partly because both my son and I struggle with our bodies. While I’m open about sharing my story on this blog, I had imagined a different path–
one filled with sports games, long hikes, and endless outdoor adventures. I thought daily park visits would naturally create the balanced life I sought.
Reality looks different. My suggestions for hikes are often met with resistance, and motivating outdoor time remains a challenge. As I’ve worked to heal my own body from the inside out, my energy has often felt depleted. Yet through Instagram communities, my dedicated chiropractor, and countless hours of research, I’ve gained invaluable knowledge about primitive reflexes and sensory processing that has transformed our relationship.
We continue working to change these patterns that formed while my son was in the womb. Now that he’s almost 13, our journey looks different, but it’s no less important. I’ve learned that being the parent he needs means letting go of my expectations and meeting him where he is. Some days that means modifying activities to accommodate his sensory needs. Other days it means celebrating small victories that might seem insignificant to others but represent huge progress for us.
For parents walking a similar path, know that you’re not alone. Whether your child has been diagnosed with retained primitive reflexes, sensory processing challenges, or you’re still searching for answers, I understand the unique challenges you face. The journey of parenting a child with different needs can feel isolating, but it doesn’t have to be.
I invite you to share some of your experience on the comment section of this blog.
I’d love to connect and share more resources with you. Reach out to me at cami@rootsandtruth.com, and together we can build a community of understanding and support.
Remember: Your child’s different path doesn’t mean you’ve failed as a parent. Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is let go of our expectations and embrace the journey we have embarked upon.
Spine & Brain Rehab: The chiropractor that I have taken the kids to for years in Bountiful, UT
Assessment and Integration of Primitive Reflexes for Improved Independence in Daily Activities (Course for $119)
Website with exercises and next steps
I’m a mother of three and have been writing for as long as I can remember. My writing started as journaling, and then I started keeping a record of my healing journey.
It has brought me so much joy to bring this blog to life–to link resources that I have found on my own healing journey!
Thank you for joining me!
© roots and truth | All rights reserved | Site design by linsey rhyne co.