The Story Of Dr Rachel…

2005 was the first year I graduated. It was a Bachelor of Health Science in Nutrition and Dietetics (with honours), and even then, I knew I wanted to learn more. Eventually, with a PhD under my belt, I landed a job lecturing in dietetics at QUT. At the time, it was basically a dream come true, but life had other plans. Within 12 months of starting, I gave birth to our first child.

I’d always loved research and teaching but while I was in the thick of parenting toddlers and popping out babies, it wasn’t a career field I could sustainably work in. Between babies, I worked part time in private practice and can now see how that gave me a wide range of experiences. In private practice, anyone can walk through the door and hand you a problem you’ve never encountered before. The years in this space fostered a lot of extra professional development and allowed me to expand my skills in ways I’d not yet been able to.

By the time our youngest started school though, I was, honestly, completely burnt out. Working in a medical centre seeing 10+ clients a day for brief appointments was extremely draining and – to be honest – mostly ineffective. I almost left dietetics completely, feeling completely overcooked from private practice. If it weren’t for some ‘baffling behaviours’ emerging from our third child, I would have walked away completely and done something brand new.

Despite both being highly educated professionals, my husband and I had no idea what autism in girls could look like. Among other things, our daughter was having frequent episodes of extreme emotional dysregulation, was perpetually anxious, and struggled with so many aspects of day-to- day life. We struggled along, trying to ‘fix’ her with the only tools we had; behavioural strategies.

Food was a huge source of stress. Despite following the ‘textbook’ feeding strategies I learnt back at uni, I couldn’t make her try new foods, and mealtimes were fast becoming something to dread. Perhaps the worst part was knowing I had a PhD in dietetics, yet I was, evidently, completely out of my depth to be able to help her.

In a last-ditch effort to help our daughter (and repair some of my wounded pride), I completed my first ever course in paediatric feeding. It opened my eyes to a brand-new part of the industry, and it was one I was fast falling in love with. I gradually phased out my private practice patients to focus on helping kids with disabilities. From day one, I fell in love with the work and had never felt more fulfilled in my career. Despite the new learning curve that came with a career change, I knew I’d found my niche. I needed to help families with similar struggles because nobody had been around to help me.

I wish I could say that everything suddenly improved for our daughter, but it didn’t. Even after her autism diagnosis, we still felt like we were drowning for quite a few years. Eventually we found some amazing therapists who introduced us to new ways of understanding our child.

I used the experiences I want through with my own child where I learnt to shift my parenting from compliance based, behavioural tools to regulation based, responsive tools. I learned to read her nervous system cues, and taught the parents I was working with to do the same. I learnt about Autism, PDA and the way her brain works, about her ADHD and where she needed supports, and bit by bit, her nervous system calmed and my understanding grew.

I wish I could say that we’ve never had hard moments since, but I can’t (and I don’t think anybody really can).

I wish I could help every individual family who needs me, but I’m just one person with a family of her own. By training other clinicians to do what I do, more families can start to get the support they deserve and lead happier and more fulfilling lives.

I’m really glad you’re here.

Rachel