Before you were born I imagined a baby of warm pink skin and jellied gums clamping over my finger. I imagined a child so perfectly delicate that I could mistake you for the china doll thats been sitting in my bookshelf for as long as I can remember. I imagined a child so exceptionally breakable that I would have to be there every moment to stop you from shattering, until the day I realised that I had to let you go so you could fly.
Whilst you were safe in my belly and helping me bring back up every morsel of the strange things you made me crave but didnt end up tasting all that good, I imagined a child learning to ride a bike without once falling over, without training wheels, without me running behind you holding you upright. I imagined a child that would one day grow up to be a beautiful woman with the world at your feet.
After you were born I realised I had gotten everything Id ever wanted. I just never imagined a child who would truly break, because of a disorder