I thought I was an ambivalent mother, then my child started to stutter
I thought I was an ambivalent mother, then my child started to stutter

Bridie Jabour, a mother of three, used to think she was ambivalent about motherhood. But when her son Cormac developed a severe stutter, she discovered she had mistaken common, ordinary feelings for ambivalence. Over 18 months of daily therapy, her self-perception collapsed, and she realised she was not ambivalent at all.

A Sudden Change

Jabour recalls that it felt as though her child lost the ability to communicate overnight. In reality, he never lost it, but it seemed that way at the time. He went from being a chatty three-year-old to struggling to get a sentence out, often giving up and looking up at her in silence.

She often joked about her parenting approach as one of benign neglect, a caricature she perpetuated since becoming a mother more than eight years ago. Privately, she thought she was more ambivalent about motherhood than she had anticipated. But she had mistaken what maternal ambivalence actually meant.

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Discovering the Stutter

Around six months before the severe stutter appeared, Jabour noticed Cormac struggling with the beginning of sentences at night. It was not every night, but it bothered her enough to inquire through NSW Health about getting him assessed. The wait list was about six months long.

Five and a half months later, in the space of a week, Cormac went from almost zero stuttering to stuttering in every single sentence. The childcare educators pulled her aside, her mother became concerned, and her husband and she looked at each other in shock.

Daily Therapy and Transformation

After panicking for 90 minutes, Jabour rang NSW Health, and Cormac had an appointment within a week. He was classified as having a severe stutter, and she was introduced to the Lidcombe Program, an evidence-based treatment built on daily therapy done by a parent. It could only be done by one parent to ensure consistent feedback.

The daily therapy was hard. Turning up every single day, not dropping days, was challenging. When she dropped a few days in a row, the regression was profound. But they did it. After 18 months, the daily exercises wound down, and Cormac no longer stuttered. He speaks fluently.

A New Self-Perception

During an interview, a professor casually identified Jabour as an educated, anxious mother, which was far from her self-perception. She had thought of herself as ambivalent, but she had carefully watched her child, felt physical pain when he struggled, and did something about it.

She also snapped at her children, hated swimming lessons, and resented daily pickup. But over those 18 months, her secret self-perception collapsed. She was there when he needed her. She had mistaken entirely common and ordinary feelings about motherhood for ambivalence.

At the same time, she was writing a novel centred on growing up with an ambivalent mother. It opened up a new seam in her writing, making the ambivalent mother more than a mum, but an actual human being. She learned that we do not need to be perfect to be good. Ordinary Funny Tragic by Bridie Jabour is out now (HarperCollins; $34.99).

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