For most parents, watching their child roll over for the first time is an exciting day. It’s a milestone that most babies reach after just a few months, and is one of the many awesome achievements that happens in these early developmental days.
My daughter has cerebral palsy as a result of a brain bleed she suffered shortly after birth. Her CP has made standard milestones irrelevant for us, as my wife, myself, everyone in our family and her parade of therapists all work endlessly to help her make progress, regardless of the pace.
Emotionally, one of the hardest parts about working through this has been her lack of mobility. She can kick her legs and move her arms, but can’t get from one place to another. I could put her on her back on the couch and jog around the block a few times (don’t worry – I don’t actually do this; for one thing, I would never leave the baby alone, for another thing, I get winded walking down the hall, much less running around an entire block), and come back to find her in the exact same place that I left her.
It’s heartbreaking – while my confident side has always tried to stay strong and believe that she’ll one day be mobile, the part of me that just wants what’s best for my daughter silently cries out “when?”
My daughter is just over two and a half years old, and has never rolled off of her back.
That is, until yesterday.
This video below is of us playing in her room last night. Now that she’s learned how to roll, she can’t get enough of it. She gets so proud of herself every time she moves onto her side, like she’s discovered something nobody has ever done before, and she can’t wait to show it off to anybody who’ll watch her.
My wife gets the credit for this one. She’s worked with her day and night to teach her how to roll. Like everything else our daughter has learned to do, it’s a labored process that not only requires hard work, but involves the determination to not give up even when it doesn’t look like progress is being made.
It’s hard for me to watch her roll without tearing up – not from heartbreak anymore, but from a new burst of confidence that’s so overwhelming there’s no other way to contain it but to cry. It’s progress. It’s proof of the power of determination and human spirit. It’s confirmation that nothing comes from giving up.
She’s moved 45 degrees in two and a half years, but if she can move 45 degrees, she can move the world.
