Happy Birthday Daisy

Daisy will be nine years old in a couple of days time.  Nine!  It hardly seems possible.  Time has speeded up rapidly since Richard and I started our family nearly eleven years ago.  The birth of my second daughter, Daisy, is one of my most accessible memories.  There are tears in my eyes now thinking about the first time that I stroked her sticky and wavy hair (excuse the cheese-factor; its true!)

Her condition (Kabuki Syndrome; a rare genetic disorder) wasn't diagnosed until around the time of her first birthday, but I think (although it is really hard to remember exactly with the distorting effect of hindsight) that I knew straight away that she was severely disabled.  She was so sweet!  Almond shaped eyes and a tiny mouth and chin, a peach fuzzy down covering her cheeks and back (she still has the remnants of this fluff on her back today).  She was examined too many times.  More and more specialists were coming through to take a look.  One, a junior registrar, I think) stuck his finger in her mouth and said "Hmm, a good suck.  This is very important", as though this was the deciding factor.

I willed them away and, magically, we were alone at last.  I cradled my baby girl in the crook of one arm.  I looked into her eyes and knew that I would love her forever, no matter what.  There is a certainty in a mother's love which isn't mirrored anywhere else in the emotional world.  Every other love is conditional.  "So long as you're faithful" - "so long as we make one another happy".  But no.  "Forever and ever no matter what".

I remember that morphine induced certainty that everything would be fine.  She could never hurt me.  She could never do me any wrong that I could not forgive.

I feel that my children have bulldozed my character and rebuilt something much better.  Is it like that for all of us?  The new customised adult emerges from the flames of parenthood like a magnificent phoenix.  Ha ha!  Not how we feel most mornings, perhaps.

Because of her severe learning disability, low muscle tone and skeletal abnormalities, it wasn't expected that Daisy would ever walk.  With true grit, determination, and a burning desire to reach the fruit bowl for her beloved bananas, she defied this prediction around the time of her fifth birthday, and now stomps around our village as though she owns the place.

Daisy is a real character.  She is the heart of our family.  She inspires love and tenderness in all who meet her (who ever invented that saying "children can be cruel"? - children are kind and open and willing to understand whenever they are given the opportunity.

Anyway, happy birthday, Daisy.  Thank you for getting well again.  Thank you for all that you bring to "My Imperfect Family".

XXMumXX