When Anita's son Oliver was diagnosed with severe autism and learning disabilities at age five, she knew life would change. What she didn't expect was the devastating financial impact that came with raising her disabled child. Like most parents of disabled children, Anita soon faced sky-high costs for therapies, care, equipment and more. But insufficient support left her struggling alone. She cut her hours to part-time, but then came the debts. Savings emptied. Bills mounted. Poverty loomed.
“I had no idea how expensive his needs would be,” Anita explains. “I love Oliver with all my heart, but I’m drowning trying to give him what he needs.”
Anita’s story is heartbreakingly common. Families like hers are plunged into financial freefall simply for doing everything possible to support their disabled children. As government cuts ravage support systems, the costs are increasingly borne by parents already strained to their limits. From tailored nurseries to specialist equipment, tailored therapies to expensive schooling, raising a disabled child costs up to three times more than a non-disabled one, research shows. For low-income families, the burden is heavier still.
Transport costs stack up ferrying children to scattered specialist services. Parents pay out of pocket for speech therapy, occupational therapy, tutors, and respite to avoid permanent exhaustion. Special diets, clothing, bedding and mobility equipment also add up. Many families need to adapt their homes and vehicles just to meet their child's basic needs, at great expense. Others pay legal fees appealing inadequate education plans or care packages. Some even remortgage homes to pay for care themselves when government support falls short.
“We’ve spent thousands on specialist equipment that keeps our daughter safe and happy,” says Michelle, mum to 8-year-old Amy who has severe autism. “But it's never-ending. As she grows, we need to replace things. We’re barely scraping by as it is.”
For single parents like Michelle, the financial pressures are even more devastating. Unable to work full-time while caring for her daughter, Michelle relies on benefits and disability allowances. But with support now subject to draconian assessments, she lives in constant fear of losing their lifeline.
“They act like we’re scrounging” she says, “but I’d give anything to have my daughter healthy. This isn’t the life we’d have chosen.”
Stress compounds as parents are forced to give up careers while facing spiralling costs. Research shows over 85% of mothers to disabled children are unable to work full-time. Fathers take on additional jobs, struggling to make ends meet. Exhausted and cash-strapped, parents sacrifice their mental and physical health. Marriages crumble under financial strain. Families cut back on essentials, sinking deeper into poverty and isolation.
“We don’t take holidays, or outings” says Anita. “Our whole life is just caring and struggling. The costs never stop.”
While families struggle, critics argue government support falls short. Means-testing and austerity cuts exclude many from aid. Disability benefit rates remain stagnant, failing to meet real-world prices. Service thresholds tighten, meaning only the most severely disabled qualify. Advocates argue the system fails to account for long-term impact of intensive disabilities. Parents are expected to provide round the clock care, but denied the means to do so without sacrificing careers and solvency.
“The government acts like we’re an inconvenience” argues campaigner Jane. “If they truly valued disabled lives, they would properly fund the support that gives our children dignity and independence.”
With local authorities also under budget pressures, many services are rationed or lost altogether. Families face long waiting lists for care, therapies and respite. Those who can’t afford to pay privately are left without. Meanwhile, the costs keep rising. As children become adults, many disabled people require residential care starting at £35,000 per year. Beyond bankrupting most families, parents describe harrowing guilt leaving their children’s fate to struggling, overstretched social services.
“We’ve fought so hard to give him the best life” says Anita of 19-year-old Oliver’s future. “But the reality is, unless we can pay for quality private care, he’ll end up somewhere terrible. It’s every parent’s nightmare.”
Anita isn’t asking for luxuries or holidays. She just wants the basic chance to financially provide for her son’s wellbeing. But as austerity and exclusion continue, families like hers will keep paying the price.
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