Strong girl

This is one of my most favorite pictures of Ellie.  It not only shows her physical strength, but those eyes show emotional strength too.  Looking into them gives me such peace. Sometimes I think back to when she was a baby and wish I hadn't worried so much about every little detail of her life, and wish I just enjoyed it.  That's not to say I didn't, but worry and anxiety provoke fear a lot of times, and rob you of joy.  I constantly had to (and still have to) work on this...living day to day, and in the moment.  I can't get too far ahead, or that awful anxiety creeps in.

When you are given a diagnosis of PWS, you are also given an huge laundry list of things your child may not accomplish, and are told milestones will be delayed, and some possibly not met.  We spent a large part of Ellie's infancy trying to prove she would defy those odds. We, along with her, spent hours upon hours working on tasks that many parents don't ever have to think twice about.  We worked tirelessly on Ellie holding her head up, tracking objects side to side and across mid-line, rolling over, supporting herself at tummy time, sitting by herself, pulling up, standing, and walking to name a few.  

It's interesting becoming a parent, because much of your time is spent talking with other parents about milestones and asking, "How old is your child?"  Oh, and when did they start rolling over?  When did they start walking?"  As parents we pride ourselves in telling others, that our children completed milestones well before they were developmentally "supposed to."  Why?  Because it helps us know are children are developmentally appropriate and "normal."  What happens when you are told your child is developmentally delayed, and "different?"

Milestones become that much more sweeter.  It's our nature to compare, and I know regardless of how hard we try not to, we always will.  But think for a second if you weren't able to say, "My child began walking at 9 months, way ahead of when they were supposed to."  Or think if you spent your time explaining to others why your child doesn't talk yet, or why when they do, no one can understand them.  It changes your perspective.  It changes your outlook.  It changes your heart.

When this picture of Ellie was taken, it was the first time she had supported herself fully during tummy time.  She was delayed.  It wasn't when she was "supposed to" be able to.  It was later.  It wasn't typical.

But just look at her...Confident, poised, determined, beautiful, and strong.  Our strong girl. And those eyes, those beautiful, peaceful eyes staring at me, letting me know it's okay and these things will come...on Ellie's time.