If Willow’s pants could talk they’d shout “hallelujah!” That’s because we’ve got a walker, folks.
Willow took her first walk across the kitchen about a month ago. It happened just like I imagined it would. On her terms, without a camera, without any warning.
I stood her up on her feet hoping she’d take a couple steps toward me. She smiled, pivoted, then took off toward her brother who was in the other room! Thank God I had just swept, because my jaw fell to the ground. The girl had never walked more than a few steps up until that point. Now, I was watching her walk across a room!
I waited a long time for that moment. More importantly, Willow worked so hard for that moment. To say it felt unreal is an understatement.
It took 3 years, 1 month and 2 days for her to walk.
It took at least 200 hours of physical therapy.
It took expensive orthotics and multiple pairs of shoes.
It took even more pairs of pants. Oh, her poor pants.
It took lots of prayers for Willow to walk.
It also took lots of gadgets, contraptions, and a strange suit that looked like a giant bandage.
And now, it’s all her.
She’s a walker.
As a mother of a child with special needs, milestones are bitter sweet. When your child reaches one, the high is indescribable. Pride fills your heart until it overflows and spills out of your body in the form of a scream only dogs can hear. Then the tears start forming. Just about the time the first one rolls down your cheek, the sweet turns to bitter. How I hate how hard my child has to work for these moments. Moments, that come so naturally for others.
Thankfully, the bitter part doesn’t last long. The sweet is just too overpowering.
My baby is walking!
Willow is walking down the hall, out of sight.
I should probably go get her.
I don’t know about this walking thing….