After months of hospital trips, casts, and scans, life slowly started to find its rhythm. It wasn’t sudden there were no dramatic breakthroughs just small, quiet victories that reminded us how resilient Hannah-Rose truly is. The first time she lifted her head during tummy time, I felt a rush of pride I can’t fully explain. Every week, each new movement, each small adjustment in her casts, became a reason to celebrate. Not perfection, not giant milestones just progress. We learned quickly that celebrating the tiny wins matters. Whether it was a smile after a cast change, holding her bottle for a few seconds longer, or simply noticing that she could wiggle her toes with more control, these moments built confidence for her and for us. It’s easy to get lost in the long-term goals: walking, running, independence. But when your child has a condition that requires constant care, the day-to-day moments are where the magic happens. Those tiny steps add up, and each one is proof of strength, patience, and courage. We also started to see the importance of documenting progress. Photos, videos, and journals weren’t just memories they became tools for reflection, teaching us what worked and where extra support was needed. It’s one thing to hear “she’s improving” from a professional, but seeing it, week after week, was empowering. These days, her wins look a little different. When we say, “Where’s your smiles?” she flashes the biggest grin, every time. She loves music sings along in her own way, copying sounds and poking her tongue out to be cheeky. There’s a spark in her that can fill a whole room. She’s teething at the moment, with a few coming through at once, which makes for some tough days especially when cast changes and sore gums collide. Her tummy gets unsettled, she wriggles and kicks, but somehow she stays strong through it all. She’s so resilient. Lately she’s been kicking her casts off so often that we’ve lost count. It’s messy, frustrating, and yet completely incredible. We were told she’d never move her legs and here she is, kicking with all her might. It’s the kind of chaos that leaves you half-exhausted and half-grateful. We just smile and remind her, “We’re going back to see Uncle Wes,” and she gives us that cheeky little look like she knows exactly what we mean.

Parent Takeaways: Hope in Practice

1. Keep a Progress Journal
Write down each appointment, I found that the notes in your cell phone are perfect especially for categories.. each new skill, each moment that makes you pause. When things feel heavy, look back you’ll see just how far your child has come.

2. Build Your Support Web
Family, friends, other parents in hospital waiting rooms, social workers, therapists each one can lighten the load. The right people don’t need to fix things; they just need to show up.

3. Use Your Voice
You know your child best. If something doesn’t feel right, speak up. The best care happens when parents and professionals work together.

4. Celebrate the Everyday
Victories don’t need to be dramatic. A good night’s sleep, a calm appointment, a crooked smile during therapy these are the threads that hold you together.

5. Protect Your Energy
There’s no bravery in burning out. Take your breaks, even the small ones. A walk, a laugh, or a quiet coffee in the car can refill the tank faster than you think.

6. Keep the Joy
Sing, dance, tell silly stories. Joy heals more than any plaster ever will.

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Parent Support & Mental Health