My Journey Of Acceptance

My first son, Advait, was born in 2010, and I was informed that he has a condition known as Down Syndrome. My immediate reaction was, “So can’t we do a surgery and fix it?”

I have always considered myself well-educated—amongst the top percentile in the country. I studied at one of the most prestigious schools in Pune, went abroad for further studies, traveled extensively, and led a very fortunate life. Yet, I had no idea what “special needs” or “Down Syndrome” actually meant, and neither did most people around me. Sadly, this lack of awareness persists in our society.

This Can’t Be Happening to Me!

Finding out about Advait felt like a tsunami had hit our lives. You never really think that something like this can happen to you. You hear stories about others, but when it happens to your own child, your world comes crashing down.

Advait was just like any other baby—the most beautiful and perfect gift imaginable—except that he had been labeled as a child who might not lead a “normal” life or attend school.

Diving into Learning

In the days that followed, my husband and I immersed ourselves in research on Down Syndrome, early intervention, therapy, diet, exercises, and connecting with “special needs parents” worldwide. Reading and learning became my coping mechanism.

I educated myself on every therapy available and learned how the brain functions. I researched at night and implemented strategies by day. I became Advait’s full-time mother and therapist. Charts covered the walls, tracking daily activities, and even our house help was trained to participate. I had tremendous support from friends and family.

Looking back, I still feel the excitement of seeing Advait respond to stimulation—absorbing, learning, and growing. He achieved milestones that doctors once said “would not be possible.” Advait became my inspiration and my teacher.

My Best for His Fullest Potential

I never tried to make Advait an Einstein or push him to match other children. My goal was simple: to give my best so he could reach his fullest potential. I wanted to ensure that I never looked back wishing I had tried a therapy or exercise. Once I knew I had given my 100%, I was at peace with Advait’s development.

Teaching concepts like “solid, liquid, and gas” required innovation, creativity, repetition, and patience. Unlike typical children, special children require intensity, frequency, and duration. As a parent, you must bring passion, commitment, and creativity to every learning moment.

The Question: “Why Me?”

Alongside the drive to do my best, I struggled with the haunting question: “Why me?” For about 1.5 years, I wondered why my child faced these challenges while others did not. My faith and the support of my family helped me navigate this period of healing.

Social situations were particularly challenging—birthday parties, playdates, and mother-toddler groups often triggered feelings of isolation. I wasn’t yet fully comfortable saying, “Yes, my son has Down Syndrome.” There was an invisible barrier between me and other parents.

Talking About the Elephant in the Room

One turning point in my journey of acceptance was openly talking about Advait and Down Syndrome in social settings. Most parents were compassionate but unsure how to reach out. By breaking the ice, I discovered that sharing vulnerability strengthens support systems and friendships.

Someone once told me that such a situation can make a person better or bitter. I chose to be better.

Lessons from Advait: Acceptance and Gratitude

Advait taught me acceptance and gratitude in the simplest ways:

• Accepting him as he is

• Accepting his pace

• Accepting him simply as Advait

Every milestone—crawling two meters, taking two steps, speaking a word—was a source of immense joy. I kept a diary to track his speech progress, knowing that each word was a triumph.

Today: Life with Advait

Eight years later, Advait is thriving. He is homeschooled by a friend alongside her children, which suits his personality. He loves football, badminton, cycling, puzzles, swimming, and ice cream. He is independent, humorous, gentle, and loving. I am grateful every day for the joy he brings.

Special Needs Language and Etiquette

As awareness grows, one area where society still lags is language. Terms like “special needs student” or “disabled child” can create hopelessness, implying a child is broken. Instead, refer to:

• “A child with a disability” instead of “disabled child”

• “He has spastic cerebral palsy” instead of “he is spastic”

• “Uses a wheelchair” instead of “wheelchair-bound”

• Avoid slang or derogatory terms like “cripple,” “retarded,” or “special ed”

Focus on the child, not the impairment. Language matters—it shapes respect, self-esteem, and how society perceives difference.

For more information, visit: Cerebral Palsy Disability Etiquette