She's so beautiful.

My Tildamouse is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, truly, truly, truly.

Time is moving on, she's 9 months old, she wants to sit up, she holds her head high, her beautiful chin in the air, wanting to take in EVERY bit of her surroundings. She's such a nosy, noisy girl.

Her latest sound is 'mem' and she generally makes it when she's grizzly. I love it. I can't wait for her to talk and walk, but she is SO perfect now, I can cuddle her, she's starting to cuddle me back and when I pick her up from nursery, when she sees it's me, her face lights up.

Sometimes she lies in my arms and looks up at me and I talk to her and we giggle. The more I laugh at her laughing, the more she laughs. She is the MOST adorable creature I have ever seen and I am already sad that she won't be my little girl forever.

There's a song which a lovely blogger from Not Even a Bag Of Sugar has posted about, about the joy and heartache of a baby who's been in NICU. It's not really about Tilda, not really, but it beats Wires by Athlete which just makes me cry. Not that this doesn't! To be honest it's a rare thing/song/reference to babies that doesn't. I interviewed a man whose 6 year old has Leukaemia last week and could barely hold it together for the end of the interview. He said it has knocked them all for six. It's just terrifying how life can change in the blink of an eye. But I digress. This is the song;




Tilda is one soon. I think I'm ok about the anniversary. My friend T's anniversary is coming up sooner and she says she's got mixed feelings about it, and it's bringing frightening thoughts flooding back.

Sometimes I feel like I am oblivious and cold to the emotions of what's happened to us. People say "oh but what you must have BEEN through!" and I think, we are ok actually. Maybe I'm just getting on with things. Or maybe I'm saving it all up somewhere, locked away, to deal with at some point. I do have survivors guilt. We had it easy really. I wouldn't change anything unless it was to stop my mouse from having felt pain. She has scars on her feet and hand from the lines and canulas. That I would change. For me, I would change nothing.