Eight.

Eight years ago today.
One little lost baby with beautiful eyes.

In my arms
I picked her up eight years ago, and didn't put her down for another couple of years.

Tears, vomit, spasm, pain, seizures, the misery of a little bundle of woe who didn't know who she was, where she was, what this world was or what was happening to her.

And lots and lots of love.Smiles first, and then an interest in life
New skillsnew family members
all adding up to a little girl, less little now, with an enthusiasm for lifeand a determination to rule it!
Eight years ago, the ubiquitous "they" gave me a big list of "she'll never do". And, well, I suppose they were right in a way. You never have sat up, rolled over, stood by yourself, walked or talked. You will always be dependent on others for your every need, you have indeed become bigger and heavier, you've had those dislocated hips and now it looks as though your spine is on its way towards a more interesting life too. You do have those seizures they warned us about, and you have breathing stuff and feeding stuff no one mentioned.

But so what?

You are unique. You manage to extract every possible bit of enjoyment out of anything you do. There aren't many children who would get away with clouting toddlers, telling their teacher they don't want to do the lesson, teaching the professionals how clonus can do the opposite of what's expected, and showing everyone how just because you happen to be in a wheelchair, and happen to have a whole host of medical issues, there's no real reason why you can't climb mountains or fly off to Florida or rule the world around you.

Love you, little girl,
Tia