I find myself drawn to the first five photos in my baby album. I look at them almost hungrily...which kind of sounds strange...but I do. They mean a lot to me. They are labelled, 2 weeks, 1 month, 2 months, 3 months, 4 months. Then it skips to 7 months. I wonder about five and six. I assume those were the months the penny was beginning to drop because my parents received my diagnosis when I was six months old. Three of the five of them I am with my mother. I look at her young face and I know she had no idea. I look at my little self and I can see the features as plain as day; even in the one where I'm only two weeks old, hands clasped together, eyes shut tight. I can see it easily.
But these pictures mean a lot to me because ignorance is bliss - not that knowing really changed anything. There's some kind of innocence about them that I can't quite explain - as though, for five short months, I didn't have achondroplasia at all.
And for some reason, I look at those five photos and I think, "That's when I didn't have achondroplasia at all."
Beautiful photo! Did your parents have the same diagnoses? I can't tell, looking at that photo but that's likely because I'm not educated about the condition like you are. To me you look like a sweet baby!
ReplyDeletePS in case you didn't know its Jackie (desserae from OD) and I'm blogging at Hippie Mumma :)