If we don’t take care of ourselves, we can’t take care of others—and that includes our mental and emotional well-being. Mental health counseling offers a safe space to be heard, to process the complexities of parenting a child with a disability, and to care for the parts of ourselves we so often push aside.

Counseling can take many forms: traditional therapy, somatic therapy, grief counseling, trauma-informed care, coaching, mindfulness practices, or a blend of approaches. The goal isn’t perfection—it’s support, clarity, and relief. There’s no shame in asking for help; it’s a sign of strength and self-respect.

How to find a therapist or counselor(sometimes this is the hardest part):

• Ask your doctor for referrals to mental health providers they trust

• Talk to friends or other moms who’ve worked with a counselor they recommend(our favorite option)

• Use therapist directories like PsychologyToday.com, TherapyDen.com, or InclusiveTherapists.com. Make sure to read the reviews.

• Search online using terms like “trauma-informed therapist near me” or “grief counseling for parents of children with disabilities”

• Check with your insurance provider for a list of covered therapists

• Local hospitals, community centers, or faith organizations often have referrals or low-cost options

• Your child’s care team (PTs, OTs, social workers, etc.) may also know therapists who specialize in supporting parents (they can be great resources)

Most therapists offer free consultations—don’t be afraid to ask questions and see if it feels like a good fit. The right therapist will make you feel supported, not judged.

Support groups can be harder to find than they should be—but they do exist, and when you find the right one, it can be life-changing. Sometimes it just takes a little digging. 

• Start by asking your child’s care team—therapists, doctors, school staff, or social workers—if they know of any local or virtual groups. A simple Google search can also help, especially when combined with keywords like your child’s diagnosis or your location.

• One of our favorite (and most empowering) suggestions—though easier said than done—is to start your own. When you create a group, it can be on your terms: in your neighborhood, on Zoom, at a time that works for your life, with other parents who truly “get it.” You’d be surprised how many others are quietly hoping for the same thing.

Online spaces can be just as powerful. Facebook groups, forums, or parenting communities often have dedicated spaces for parents of children with disabilities. You may not know anyone at first, but over time, these spaces can turn into lifelines.

You do not have to be limber, athletic, or young to try yoga. Yoga is truly for everyone—every age, every body, every level. It meets you where you are. Whether you’re lying on a mat in stillness or flowing through a sequence, yoga is as much for the mind as it is for the body. It can help quiet the mental noise, release built-up tension, and create a sense of calm in the chaos.

• Hot yoga is in a class all its own. It’s not for everyone, but we encourage you to try it at least a couple of times. Practicing in a heated room adds a layer of intensity that pushes you into the present moment—you’re focused, breathing, sweating, and completely tuned in. There's no space to think about anything else, and in a world where moms are always multitasking, that’s a gift.

• If hot yoga isn't your thing, try a gentle or restorative class. Look for studios that offer “beginner-friendly” or “trauma-informed” options—or start with a YouTube video in your living room. No matter how you approach it, yoga can be a powerful tool for grounding, releasing, and reconnecting with yourself.

Breathing exercises, or pranayama in yoga practice, are a core part of this mind-body connection. Even outside of a yoga class, focused breathing can calm the nervous system, lower stress, and bring you back into your body. Whether it’s a simple “inhale for four, exhale for four” or a few minutes of box breathing before bed, intentional breathwork is a free, powerful, and always-available reset.

If hot yoga isn't your thing, try a gentle or restorative class. Look for studios that offer “beginner-friendly” or “trauma-informed” options—or start with a YouTube video in your living room. However you begin, yoga and breathwork together can offer a much-needed pause in a life that rarely slows down.

We’re not nutritionists—and we’re not here to tell you what to eat—but we do know this: what we put into our bodies can have a huge impact on how we feel, physically and emotionally. Eating well is a form of self-care, just like sleep, movement, and rest. But let’s be honest—when you’re juggling appointments, paperwork, therapy sessions, and the emotional toll of parenting a child with a disability, nutrition often gets pushed to the bottom of the list.

We’ve all been there. You grab what’s fast, what’s easy, what’s leftover. You forget to eat, or you eat standing up between tasks. Sometimes, you just don’t have the energy to care. And that’s okay, every now and then. But this is your gentle reminder: you matter, too. Fueling your body with balanced meals—less sugar, more protein, plenty of fruits and vegetables—can make a real difference in your energy, mood, and resilience.

Start small. One extra glass of water. A little more color thing on your plate. You don’t have to be perfect—you just have to remember that your well-being is worth prioritizing, even in small ways.

Movement is our favorite form of self-care! We are tennis players, pickleball fans, golfers, walkers, Pilates enthusiasts, and more. For us, movement is everything. It’s what keeps us sane, grounded, clears our heads, and lifts our moods. Sometimes, movement can feel better than talk therapy, a glass (or two) of wine, or even a vacation, because moving wakes up our bodies, quiets our minds, and FEELS good. So whatever your form of movement is that you like, do it, and do it as often as you can. There truly is no downside. Additionally, it allows us that time to listen to a podcast, a book, our favorite music, and or the quiet sounds of the outdoors. Moving is a gift to yourself.

r the quiet sounds of the outdoors. Moving is a gift to yourself.

Meditation/Prayer: Whether you call it meditation, prayer, reflection, or simply sitting in stillness—taking a few moments each day to pause can be powerful and meaningful. It doesn’t have to be long or formal. It can be in the car, in the shower, before bed, or during your morning coffee. What matters is the intentionality of the moment: a breath, a whisper, a thought that reminds you that you are more than your to-do list. And attempting to put aside everything else for those few minutes of quiet.

For some, prayer is a grounding spiritual practice—a conversation with God or a source of comfort and faith. For others, meditation offers a quiet way to return to yourself, to your breath, to the present moment. Both can be healing, centering, and clarifying. There are no rules other than taking the time, the moments, to do it.

There are many resources available, from simple breathing apps to guided meditations on YouTube or Spotify. Or maybe you just close your eyes and put a hand on your heart for 30 seconds. Whatever form this takes for you—it’s valid. 

his may be the most important of all. We cannot emphasize enough the power of connection. Whether it’s with a friend, a family member, a mentor, spiritual guide, fellow mom/caregiver, or even a kind stranger, of which there are many. We all need and want connection. And when you’re parenting a child with a disability, that need for connection becomes even more essential.

Caring for someone else, especially when the responsibilities are ongoing and intense, can feel isolating. The weight of that care—both physical and emotional—can be overwhelming. Connection is what lightens the load. It’s what reminds us we’re not alone. It gives us space to laugh, cry, vent, share, and breathe.

You don’t need a huge network. One trusted person can make all the difference. And connection doesn’t always have to be deep conversation—it might be a shared look, a walk with a friend, a message that says “thinking of you,” or joining a space (like Live Well. Love Strong.) where you feel understood. We were never meant to do this alone. And the good news? We don’t have to.

At first, awe might seem like a strange thing to include in a list about self-care. But when you're in the thick of caregiving—when you're exhausted, running on empty, and doing all the things you do, a moment, or moments, of awe can be quietly satisfying and often exactly what we need.

Awe doesn’t have to mean seeing the Grand Canyon or watching a solar eclipse, although those aren’t bad ideas (I recently saw the northern lights from the top of my driveway, and wow, was that a moment of awe!). It can be something small: the way your child smiles unexpectedly, the quiet beauty of a sunrise, the sound of laughter in a hard week, or the comfort of a favorite song that hits you just right. Awe is that feeling that reminds us there’s more to life than just the struggle. It lifts us, if only for a moment, and gives us a glimpse of wonder, beauty, or something bigger than ourselves.

Recognizing awe is a way to reconnect with what’s meaningful. It doesn't fix everything, but it can shift your perspective in just the right way. And sometimes, that small shift is everything.

We don’t know anyone who likes asking for help. It can feel uncomfortable, vulnerable, even a little scary. But here’s what we’ve learned: asking for help can be truly heroic. It can be life-saving. Life-changing. And in many cases, absolutely necessary.

We’re the first to admit that it doesn’t come naturally to us either. But every time we’ve asked for help, we’ve been grateful we did. Because help opens doors. It lifts burdens. It connects us to people and resources that we didn’t know were there—and that we deserve to have access to.

What kind of help are we talking about? All kinds. Asking a friend to let you vent. Asking your partner for more support. Seeking therapy or mental health care. Asking your doctor the hard questions. Reaching out to another mom just to say, “I’m struggling—have you been here too?” Even sharing your own story can be a form of asking for help—because when you open up, others often do, too. And in that exchange, healing begins.

Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re not strong. It means you’re human. And it means you’ve chosen not to walk this path alone.