Her Voice

 

We all want our daughters to have a voice. I need my daughter to have one. 

I won’t always be around to speak for her – to explain to others why she may not understand, or to make her understood.

Before my daughter was born, deep down I worried there was something wrong. All the prenatal testing indicated she was fine, but sometimes a mother just knows. When she was born, and I held her in my arms, I saw only perfection. I still do.

We soon discovered our girl was special. In fact, she’s so unique there isn’t a name for her particular syndrome. She has come miles further than we were told she could. Her future is bright, yet shadowed by developmental and medical challenges.

Our daughter doesn’t understand the rude looks or ignorant questions. A stranger’s comment about her “walking funny” results in a carefree smile. Teasing, from a neighbourhood kid, earns him a giggle.

One day, she will understand and feel the sting of hurtful words and actions. The most important thing I can do is to help her to find her own voice.

My girl is a mess of blonde curls, big brown eyes and pouty pink lips. She’s beautiful. People want to do things for her. I want her to learn how to do for herself.

She loves animals and insects and kicking a ball with her brother. Though she often stumbles, she keeps on running. I never want to her give up or be afraid to fall.

She is compassionate and kind. I pray she stays that way.

She is funny – hilarious, whoopee cushion, breathless laugh, kind of funny. I hope she will always see the humour in any situation. If you can laugh in the face of hurt, the hurt will eventually shrivel up and
blow away.

For a child who speaks in two or three word phrases, she never has trouble expressing her emotions. She makes herself heard and I hope she always will.

I want to wrap my arms around my daughter and protect her from the world. But I know I can’t. In fact, I know I shouldn’t. The best gift I can gift my daughter is to make her feel valued and special in all
the good ways.

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