That Mom With CP

Motherhood is a wonderful and chaotic journey, one best attempted with a loving and supportive village.

After all, that’s what makes it possible, right?

My husband and parents have been instrumental in every area of raising and caring for our girls. I couldn’t do it without them.

But as a mom with cerebral palsy, despite my close-knit family, I often wondered if there were other moms like me.

Would someone else understand?

Would they hear my struggle?

Or relate to how I’m feeling?

I remember it vividly.

We took my oldest daughter to the library to explore on a rainy Saturday morning. It was her birthday, and she was so excited to find a new book.

We entered the kids’ area, and her face lit up when she saw toys, books, and a cute little play area for her to enjoy with other kids just like her.

Me, on the other hand? I was nervous.

Four months postpartum, I was still recovering and not up to my normal speed.

My sweet husband ran with her so I could find a comfortable spot to sit.

I sat with our youngest daughter as I watched our oldest play and felt a range of emotions as I wondered — am I enough for her?

At that moment, I didn’t feel like it.

I knew then, despite my desire to avoid everything cerebral palsy related, that the ache I was feeling was for community — for parents who understood.

Finding the Community I Couldn’t Find

So I took a leap of faith and began researching resources for disabled moms.

And truthfully, I was appalled to find little to none.

It hit me then: Maybe there aren’t other moms like me. Maybe I’m feeling lonely because I’m the only one feeling this way.

Is there a way forward?

And that’s how That Mom With CP came to be. I wanted moms with cerebral palsy — and other disabled parents who might recognize themselves in my story — to know someone else like them was out there.

They weren’t alone.

Eventually, after getting my blog out there, I learned that I wasn’t the only one. There are millions of disabled parents in the United States. The problem wasn’t that we didn’t exist. It was that our experiences were remarkably difficult to find.

Disabled Parents Deserve More

More than 4.4 million disabled parents live in the United States, yet resources created specifically for us remain painfully limited.

We deserve to be seen.

We deserve to be heard.

We deserve to parent differently. Not less.

And yet, despite recognizing the need, we still have to fight for resources and accommodations.

A Critical Resource for disabled parents

The National Research Center for Parents with Disabilities at Brandeis University, the nation’s only federally funded research center dedicated to parents with disabilities, now faces possible closure after losing the opportunity to compete for continued federal funding. Its current grant expires August 31, 2026.

According to Forbes, the funding opportunity disappeared without a public explanation, even as other grants continued through the federal agency responsible for the Center’s funding.

For the past decade, the Center has conducted research and created resources addressing issues that directly affect disabled parents — including parental rights, discrimination, health care, child welfare and peer support. Its work has also produced national data and legal resources that help document experiences disabled parents have historically struggled to have recognized.

Without continued funding, we don’t just risk losing a research center. We risk losing research, resources and representation for a community that already has far too little of all three.

This is unacceptable.

But saying that isn’t enough.

The National Research Center for Parents with Disabilities is asking advocates, disabled parents, families, and allies to speak up. Contact your elected officials. Ask them to support restoring the federal funding opportunity that would allow the Center to compete for continued funding. Share what’s happening. Talk about why this research matters.

And if you’re a disabled parent, keep telling your story.

Because we shouldn’t have to prove that our experiences are worth researching. We shouldn’t have to fight to convince the world that disability does not determines our ability to love and raise our children. And we certainly shouldn’t have to watch one of the few resources dedicated specifically to our experiences disappear without saying anything.

Personal stories matter. They’re why I started That Mom With CP.

But our stories cannot replace research.

We need both.

We need research that identifies the barriers disabled parents face and gives us the evidence to challenge them. We need resources created with disabled parents in mind. And we need communities where someone can say, *I’m struggling with this,* and hear another parent answer, Me too.

I think about that version of myself sitting in the library sometimes.

Four months postpartum. Watching my daughter play. Wondering whether I was enough for her and whether there was another mother somewhere who understood what I was feeling.

I know the answer now.

There are millions of us.

And the next disabled mom who goes searching shouldn’t have to wonder if she’s the only one.

She deserves to find us.

She deserves support.

She deserves research.

She deserves resources.

And she deserves to know that parenting differently has never meant parenting less.