Thursday 18 October 2012

Annual Review

No, not the school one. It's that time of year when I once again sift through our lives to come up with a few highlights, some gentle lowlights, and the best of the photographs, piece it all together and post it to the Little Princess' previous parents.

It's where I'm thankful for this blog; even when the content is low there's something that will jog a memory or two. And it's when I read back through the previous years' reports, and get to whizz through a condensed Life of TLP.

I see those endearing missing teeth. That Brownie promise and the Rainbow one too. Cats and kittens, holidays and friends.

Disconcertingly, I find photographs of writings - and see that tLP has made little if any progress in actually getting meaningful thoughts down on paper, although she can now read some words by sight.

I see that last year we were discussing neurosurgery, this year we have bowel and bladder stuff to cover, and that for the past several years we have been talking about spinal surgery which still hasn't happened. I edit out the spine photos.

I celebrate the phenomenal number of holidays we have taken, and decide to save Florida (7 more sleeps til Gatwick, huzzah!) until next year - it should yield some nice photos.

I remember the day when tLP met a real princess (but gloss over her demand for 'am samwiches). I find photos of tLP on a swing, 6 months ago and 18 months ago, and wonder why she can't swing herself any more; whether it's lack of practice or abdominal surgery or what.

And as ever, I wonder about the people reading the letter. Have I included enough? Are there questions they'd like to ask? Do I include too much, does what I say cause them to worry for another year? Do they keep the photos, share them with family, post them on Facebook, or lock them away in a drawer?

TLP had a question for them last year, which has not been answered. Would asking it again drive them further away, lead them to dread reading these notes which are the only link they now have to the baby they conceived and cared for in the womb? Do they look forwards to these letters or view them with dread? Was it their request to have this kind of contact or was it imposed on them by the decision makers?

And whose idea of a cosmic joke was it to have the long awaited neurodisability psych report land on my doorstep the same day I had to write it?

But, the letter is written, the report is read, and whilst I could sit and wallow in both, instead I'll enjoy reading back through some of the other archives, like this

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