Because fighting for support shouldn’t take this long.
It’s hard to describe the emotional toll of fighting for something your child has always deserved. But for the past six years, that’s exactly what we did — fought. Every meeting, every form, every meltdown, every missed opportunity was part of a long, exhausting road to getting an EHCP (Education, Health and Care Plan) for our daughter.
It shouldn’t have taken this long. But it did. And I want to share our story, not for sympathy, but so that other parents feel seen — and know they’re not alone in the system that so often makes us feel invisible.
Year 1: The First Signs (And the First “No”)
The journey began the way many SEN stories do: with a gut feeling. Something wasn’t sitting right. We knew our daughter was unique — bright, sensitive, and full of spark — but she also struggled in ways the school system didn’t seem equipped to handle.
We raised concerns. We were told to “wait and see.” That she was just young. That she’d catch up.
Spoiler: she didn’t need to “catch up.” She needed support.
We asked about applying for an EHCP. We were told it wasn’t necessary — that school could “manage” her needs. So we waited. We trusted. But the cracks only got deeper.
Years 2–3: Pushing, Documenting, and the World Pauses
By now, we were exhausted. School was inconsistent in the support they offered, and the gap between what our daughter needed and what she was receiving had become a chasm.
We were documenting everything — sleep struggles, sensory issues, meltdowns, anxiety, behaviour changes, educational delays. We sought outside assessments, paid privately for support, and chased referrals that took months (sometimes years) to process.
And then, in the middle of that already growing storm — the world shut down.
COVID hit. Lockdown began. Services closed. Referrals were frozen.
Everything we were chasing — the assessments, the meetings, the professionals — simply stopped. There was no school. No support. Just us, at home, trying to manage a child with complex needs during a global crisis.
We were suddenly teachers, therapists, and full-time emotional support — while still trying to hold ourselves together in the chaos of a pandemic. And the system? It was silent. No answers. No direction. No urgency.
Still, when the world started turning again, we kept asking:
- “Can we apply now?”
- “Has anything changed?”
- “Will she finally get what she needs?”
And again, we heard: “Not yet.”
Years 4–5: Hitting Walls (and Hitting Burnout)
We reached a breaking point. Our daughter was struggling more than ever, and the pressure was bleeding into every corner of our family life — our routines, our relationships, our mental health.
We applied for the EHCP ourselves.
We gathered reports, sought advice, chased deadlines.
We got rejected.
The system said “no” again — and we appealed.
Appealing was a full-time job in itself. Reading legislation we never should have had to understand. Fighting bureaucracy while still parenting full-time. All for one thing: a plan that could give our child a fair chance at education.
Year 6: The Yes (and the Bittersweet Relief)
And then, after six years of pushing, documenting, advocating, appealing — we got a yes.
An EHCP. A piece of paper that meant, finally, someone had acknowledged what we had known all along.
But it wasn’t the celebration we imagined. It was emotional. Raw. Bittersweet.
Because we were grateful… but we were also grieving the years we lost. The missed support. The school days filled with overwhelm. The energy spent fighting instead of simply parenting.
What I’ve Learned
Getting an EHCP for your child isn’t just a process — it’s a fight.
It takes courage, persistence, and an unreasonable amount of emotional labour. But it also requires community. I couldn’t have done it alone. The advice of other parents, online forums, charity support lines — they helped me keep going when I wanted to give up.
If you’re on this journey, still fighting, still hoping — I see you. I know the weight you carry. I know how demoralising it is to keep shouting into a system that tells you to wait quietly.
But don’t give up. Your child deserves the world. And you are not “too much” for asking for it.
To the System: Do Better.
No parent should have to fight this hard.
No child should wait six years to be seen.
The EHCP process is meant to protect and support — not exhaust and deplete. It’s time the system started working for families, not against them.
Until then, we keep fighting. We keep sharing.
And we remind each other: you are not alone.
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