I would say that I generally fall under the umbrella of optimistic. Not so much that I live with my head in the clouds, but not so pessimistic that I can’t see the forest through the trees. When I first heard that Ella could have cerebral palsy, I mourned, but I also could not accept that she would be anything but magnificent. I had this vision that she would storm through the NICU doors, and shout “See?! Look at me! I’m Ella and a total badass!”
It hasn’t exactly turned out that way, but one thing is for sure; that girl is strong, and her strength shines out of her. I’ve never met a happier kid, especially one who has fought so hard to live, like Ella has.
Ella really and truly is a ray of sunshine. Everywhere we go, people gravitate towards her big infectious smile and full belly giggle. Friends from school see her in the neighbourhood and it’s like she’s a celebrity. “Ella!” they shout, “Ella! Over here!” and she giggles and waves, much like a princess would, I imagine.
Of course, I know this. As her mum, I see it and love it and could not be more proud of her or my other two kids, but when others see it, and feel it, it brings tears to my eyes as it is impossible to imagine life without sunshine. One of my friends recently sent me a message about a conversation she was having with her mum, who was having a rough night. And in it, she says Ella was sent to this earth to heal hurt spirits, and even writing this now, I am tearing up, as I think of my beautiful girl’s impact on the world. Her role in filling souls with love and light. Her abilities to look at you, into you, and to spread her smile through to your very core, to fill you with warmth, and to know that it comes from the purest place, that fills this mama with such hope and pride for the future, hers, ours, and the world’s, and reminds me that she may actually be the tiniest little superhero after all.