Raising a Different Kind of Baby: Lessons from the Start

At the time of my son’s birth, what I knew about babies came from being an older sister to a brother six years younger, the babysitting I’d done as a teenager, and my co-op and later part-time job in a daycare. This meant I didn’t really know much about newborns. Still, from what I did know—and what I had read—they were supposed to sleep after birth, worn out from the trials and tribulations of the birthing process. At least, that’s what I thought…

On November 1, 2009, I gave birth to my son, Wesley. He was 10 days late. My water had to be broken in the hospital. After 12 hours of labor, I was only 2 cm dilated, and Wesley was in distress. I was losing oxygen and shaking. I was rushed in for an emergency c-section.

That night, after all the commotion of his birth, Wesley lay beside me—wide awake—staring straight up at the ceiling. I remember thinking, Aren’t babies supposed to sleep after birth? Even just for a few hours? What I didn’t know in that moment, and only realize looking back, is that this was my first true introduction to life with Wesley.

Wesley was not like the other children I had been around. He wasn’t difficult—just different. Different in a way that was unfamiliar to me.

He would cry when I wasn’t close, but he hated being swaddled and didn’t want to be held too tightly. I would fall asleep with him face to face, his little hand wrapped around my finger, our foreheads touching. He’d sleep for short stretches, then wake to nurse, and take ages to fall back asleep. He loved being outside in the stroller—or walking around the mall. He was happiest around others and always moving. He seemed to carry this restless energy, like he had already been here in a past life and was just waiting for his body to catch up so he could get going.

Wesley has been my greatest teacher.

That’s not to say I haven’t learned from my other children—I have, and I continue to. But Wesley, as my first, is the reason I began this journey: learning and growing as a neurodiverse parent raising neurodiverse children. He’s also the reason I became a professional who now helps other women and their children find their way as they parent their highly sensitive, spirited, or neurodiverse child.

These are the kids whose sparks we want to protect—their energy, their determination. But they often struggle in our modern world. Traditional parenting didn’t teach us how to nurture their strengths. I had to learn from others, learn on my own, and, more often than not, trust my instincts—especially when the advice of others just didn’t fit.

I’m so incredibly grateful for Wesley and everything he’s taught me. I often say to parents whose children are challenging them in ways that make them take a hard look at themselves, “This child is your greatest teacher.”I say that because of Wesley—because of us—because of our story.