Thursday, November 15, 2012


Today I sat in an exam room at a doctor's appointment, waiting for the doctor to knock gently on the door and exam my child. I sat there and watched my almost 18 month old daughter walk around the room, getting into anything and everything she could. She tried to take the garbage bag off the trash can, and tried to unplug the computer underneath the desk. She tried to crawl up into the chair and after a little bit of help, she stood up in the chair, and looked out the window at the cars driving by below. 

This may sound like an average run of the mill doctor's appointment to many parents, but to me it was a milestone. A moment I will not likely forget for the rest of my life. 

I was sitting back in THAT room. The room that we first talked to a pediatric neurosurgeon about my yet to be born daughter's brain or lack thereof. I sat in the SAME chair that I had sat in that day, 33 wks pregnant and scared to death. I looked at the same doctor, sitting on the same stool, that had told me we wouldn't know what hydrocephalus meant for our child for some time coming. That he was our GPS navigation system and we were embarking on a journey. A journey filled with unknowns and possible bumps in the road but that it was his job to guide us along the way. That he was like a family relative that you (hopefully) only see at a reunion once a year but that if you need them more often, he'd be there. 

I sat in that same room TODAY and watched my nearly 18 month old daughter walk around the room. It was a surreal, poignant moment. Watching her walk around, playing in the very room that we sat down and discussed her condition not so long ago. That we discussed what chances she had to walk, talk, eat or even breathe. 

After her neurosurgeon walked in, my daughter walked over to the man that had saved her life, not once but twice, and climbed into his lap. This is not her normal behavior.  She doesn't climb into her neurologist's lap, or ophthalmologist or even her pediatrician's. But this man... her neurosurgeon, she remembers

She sat in his lap, playing with his beard and they had a quiet moment. And I sat back and watched. Thankful... that I am back in that room with a healthy, beautiful little girl that amazes me every day. Thankful that I am on this side of the journey and that we know a little more where we are going. Thankful for Dr. George that he has navigated us this far and will continue to do so for years to come. Thankful that I am able to witness a miracle every single day outside of THAT room. Thankful to be the mom of my baby girl. 

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