We all know we should be grateful that it is not something worse, god knows we are but it doesn’t help heal the hurt.
We all share the pain of putting our children to sleep and watching them wake to life in spica.
We all get caught by moments when we feel overwhelmed by what should have been. A snowflake symbolises a missed sledging trip, an easter egg stays hidden as no adventuring little legs were around to go seeking.
We all feel the bite when someone asks us what on earth happened to our child and we all clench a fist when they look at us as if it were our doing.
We all know the pinch that pulls at our purse strings when two incomes fall to one so our ‘disabled’ child is looked after.
We all know to smile and agree how well she is doing when inside you ache from the weight of the cast and the knowledge that you can’t leave her alone for a second, she needs you to play, the operation didn’t change her, the cast hasnt altered her but independence is a memory that is quickly forgotten
We all know the feeling of a heart aching when you see a friend of theirs walking and can only remember what once was and hope for what will be again.
We all shared that gasp when our spica child learnt again how to crawl.
We all celebrated a smile when they carried on as if nothing were different.
We have all sighed with relief when an explosion in the nappy has not tainted the cast.
We all know that they cope far better than we could ever imagine.
We know we are parents to someone amazing.
We would all trade places with them in a heartbeat.