The birth of our son Eliott in June 2015 should have been a moment of joy, but instead, it became the beginning of an unexpected and difficult journey. Eliott was born with a rare form of genetic epilepsy caused by a mutation in the KCNQ2 gene. His seizures began immediately, and we found ourselves thrust into the world of constant medical interventions, endless worry, and overwhelming uncertainty. From that moment on, our lives were forever changed, and the path ahead would be more challenging than we ever imagined.

The First Days: A Battle for Survival

Eliott’s birth was followed by immediate and intense medical attention. His seizures began in the delivery room, and he was rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). Despite the best efforts of the doctors, the seizures did not stop. For over two weeks, Eliott fought for his life, with constant monitoring, medication, and medical interventions. The doctors worked relentlessly to stabilize him, but each time we thought his condition was improving, the seizures would return, making us feel helpless.

We quickly learned that Eliott’s seizures were due to a rare genetic condition—KCNQ2-related epilepsy. The diagnosis was both a relief and a burden. At least we had a name for what was happening, but it also meant that we were dealing with a condition that was difficult to manage and rare enough that treatments were still being explored. In the midst of all the medical chaos, the only thing we could do was keep fighting, keep hoping, and stay by Eliott’s side.

The Rollercoaster of Seizures and Medications

As the weeks turned into months, Eliott’s seizures continued. He was prescribed various medications, but none seemed to offer lasting relief. Each new medication brought hope, followed by disappointment when it failed to control his condition. Every seizure felt like a step back, and as parents, it was devastating. Watching our son struggle and feeling powerless to stop his pain was one of the hardest things we had ever endured.

During this time, I found myself turning to alcohol to cope. At first, it started as a glass of wine in the evening to unwind after a long, exhausting day. But slowly, it became more than just an occasional treat. The stress, the emotional toll, and the feeling of helplessness drove me to drink more often. It became a way to numb the pain, a way to escape the constant worry and fear that came with caring for Eliott and managing his condition. The more I drank, the more I isolated myself, and the more I lost sight of the mother I wanted to be for my children.

I didn’t recognize it at first, but the alcohol became a crutch. It helped me deal with the overwhelming weight of our situation, but it also distanced me from the people I loved. I hid my drinking from my family, ashamed of what was happening, but inside, I knew something had to change. The guilt, the shame, and the increasing reliance on alcohol began to take their toll, and I realized that I wasn’t being the mother I wanted to be for Eliott or my other children.

The Turning Point: Choosing Sobriety

The turning point came one night after a particularly tough day. I had been drinking more than usual, and I realized that I was no longer able to control it. The feelings of shame and guilt overwhelmed me as I looked at my children, knowing that I wasn’t being the role model I wanted to be. I realized that I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. I was spiraling, and I needed help.

That was when I made the decision to seek help. I reached out to a counselor and started attending support groups. The journey to sobriety was not easy, and there were many moments of doubt and struggle. The physical withdrawal was tough, and emotionally, it felt like I was facing a mountain I wasn’t sure I could climb. But as I began to rebuild my life, I found strength in the support of others who understood what I was going through. Slowly, I started to rediscover who I was and what I had lost.

The first few months of sobriety were hard. I faced many challenges, and the emotional toll was significant. But as time passed, I began to see small changes in myself. I started feeling more present for my family, more engaged with my children, and more able to handle the stress that came with caring for Eliott. I found new ways to cope with the pressures of being a special needs mom, and I began to feel more connected to my children and my life.

Reclaiming My Life and Rebuilding Connections

Sobriety didn’t just mean giving up alcohol; it meant taking control of my life and rediscovering who I was beyond being Eliott’s mom and the woman struggling with addiction. I started focusing on self-care, something I had neglected for years. I realized that to be the best mother I could be, I had to take care of myself first. I began exercising, eating better, and finding joy in the small moments with my children. I started to feel like myself again, and that made all the difference.

The emotional benefits of sobriety were profound. I was no longer clouded by alcohol, and I could think more clearly. I was able to process the emotions I had been numbing for so long, and I began to face the challenges of being a special needs mother with a renewed sense of purpose and strength. I was also able to be more present for Eliott, advocating for his needs and supporting him in ways I hadn’t been able to before. Being sober allowed me to be the mother I always wanted to be—attentive, patient, and loving.

I also found strength in connecting with others. Through my support groups and personal therapy, I met other mothers and families who were facing similar challenges. Their stories, their struggles, and their resilience inspired me. I realized that I wasn’t alone. There was a community of people who understood what I was going through, and that gave me a sense of belonging and support. Together, we shared our stories, our pain, and our victories, and that shared experience made all the difference.

A New Perspective on Motherhood

As I look back on my journey, I realize how far I’ve come. Sobriety has given me the clarity to see what truly matters and the strength to face whatever comes my way. Yes, life with a special needs child is incredibly challenging, and there will always be difficult days ahead, but I now have the tools and the strength to handle them. Sobriety has helped me become a better mother, a better wife, and a better version of myself.

I’ve learned to embrace the challenges of motherhood with a renewed sense of hope and resilience. I’ve learned that asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness, and that I don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone. My children, especially Eliott, are my greatest source of strength and motivation. Every day with them is a gift, and I cherish the moments we share, no matter how small.

I am no longer defined by my struggles or by my past. Sobriety has helped me reclaim my life and my sense of self, and I am proud of the person I’ve become. I know that there will always be challenges ahead, but I also know that with love, support, and determination, I can face anything.

The Road Ahead: Continuing the Journey

The road ahead is still uncertain, but I now face it with hope, strength, and clarity. I will continue to advocate for my son, for other children with special needs, and for families who are struggling in silence. I will continue to fight for the resources, the support, and the opportunities that Eliott and other children like him deserve.

Sobriety was the first step in reclaiming my life, but it’s not the end of my journey—it’s just the beginning. With each new day, I am learning more about myself, about motherhood, and about the power of love and resilience. I am ready to continue walking this path, with all its ups and downs, because I know that I am stronger than I ever realized, and I have the support of my family and community behind me.

My story is one of struggle, but also one of hope. It is a reminder that no matter how tough life gets, we have the ability to rise, to change, and to find joy in the most unexpected places. I am no longer the person I was before. I am a mother who is learning to live with purpose, love, and strength—one day at a time.