My Life as a Dandelion Parent

Hi, my name is Anna, and I’m a self-proclaimed Dandelion Parent. This term is something I coined after years of advocating for my son, who has a complex medical history. It reflects the journey I’ve been on, one full of resilience, but also exhaustion, uncertainty, and growth.

I’m a mom to four children, ranging from two to 14. One of my kids is on the autism spectrum, and another faces a long list of medical issues that make him a medically complex case. For the past fourteen years, I’ve been advocating for one child or another, pouring my heart into each step. I’ve felt every emotion along the way—anger, frustration, joy, and sometimes, hopelessness.

There are days I don’t feel strong enough for it all. But somehow, I keep going. With each new diagnosis and challenge, I’ve remained resilient, not because I am invincible, but because I have no choice. Behind closed doors, or in the quiet moments of my car, I cry often. The constant weight of advocacy and caregiving takes a toll on my body and my mental health.

I see a therapist when I can, and I focus on the tasks at hand each day, carving out moments—however brief—to find joy. Even if it’s just a late-night bath with a glass of wine or a few minutes of peace I manage to steal for myself. There was a time when I dreamt of becoming a successful author, but right now, my energy and focus are on my kids. I want to help other moms who are on this never-ending path of advocacy and caregiving. It’s something every mom can relate to at some point, but for some of us, it defines our entire lives.

I often mourn the things other moms get to experience—soccer practices, dance classes, the typical childhood milestones. I mourn the time my son misses out on the things I imagined he’d do. But through it all, I’ve learned to celebrate the little things. When my son eats two tacos instead of nothing, that’s a win. When he makes it halfway through the zoo without pain, that’s a win. When he makes it through an entire week of school without missing a single day—another win. These little victories are what keep me going.

Being mindful of those good moments, even if they seem small, has become my way of staying grounded. Being the parent of a child with special needs or a complex medical condition takes everything we have. It’s a full-time job, especially when a solid support system is hard to come by. But in this journey, we are not alone. Through shared experiences and understanding, we can find strength, encouragement, and hope—together.