Annabella Mae was breach, lodged under the right side of my ribcage and grew (organically, I like to say) with a condition called Torticollus. The muscles from ears to collarbones were affected, one side weak, the other short, giving her a tilted head. Every day, three times a day and more, we would tirelessly go through her series of exercises. When I went back to work, I would take my lunchbreaks and go to her daycare, breastfeed her then do her exercises. Because of how it affected her balance, all her gross motor skill milestones were behind her peers. She was slow to sit on her own, slow to roll over, crawl, and yes, walk. I became almost embarrassed having a toddler who wasn't toddling (and I KNOW better, getting my degree in Child Development!!!) People would ask how old she was and when I told them, reluctantly sometimes, I could hear the politely unsaid response, or at least I imagined what could be said. Still, I tried hard not to push her, only support her progress and effort and celebrate both her attempts, successes, and persistence.
She did finally start walking. She was 19 months old. The far side of normal. She is overjoyed at her new mobility. Her condition caused her to be more observant and consequently, she is quite cognitively and socio-emotionally advanced.
She is who she is. And I love her more than life itself. All of her, whoever that is and evolves into being. And walking or not, I AM proud of her.
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