Always, always, always I am proud of Wriggles.
Proud of what she has achieved.
Proud of what she will achieve.
Proud of how far she has come.
Proud of what a delight she is (tantrums excluded) and how she charms the pants off anyone and puts a smile on the face of strangers.
But sometimes, although I am proud I am also sad.
Not disappointed, but sad. There is a huge difference between the two.
Sometimes I look at other children, and whilst I do not compare, I do notice. Notice that those younger are taking steps, forming forms, wobbling around whilst my older girl crawls around blissfully. And sometimes I feel angry or upset or frustrated that anyone should have a complicated journey, that any innocent child should have to be on a different path, that any family should have a challenging journey.
It's character building, they said. Challenges make us stronger and us who we are.
Sometimes I believe it and sometimes I think it is bollocks.
Sometimes I want to know what the future holds and sometimes I am scared. Sometimes I am furious at the universe for giving my beautiful girl such a mixed bag when other (less nice, obviously) children get such an easy ride. To them, the terms I know and hear and think about every day are either those of ignorance or simply intellectual. To me, they are part of my child.
Sometimes I wonder if I had done anything any differently if we would have had the complications we did and still live with.
Sometimes I wish I could just take Wriggles had and run off into the sunset, away from doctors, from clinic, from observations, from reports, and just be the two of us alone.
