Ava finally gets off her bottom

Ava is walking. Finally. Just as the so-called specialists and doctors had put the very fear of God into us, just as I had almost driven myself mad with the thought that I was a delinquent and neglectful mother for not noticing something was wrong with her legs, she chose last Friday to get up, in the middle of the room, with nothing to hold on to, and to walk, slowly, with a staggering, tottering kind of motion, all the way across the living room. Just like that. Of course, I was busy nattering to a friend on the sofa at the time and was only alerted to the situation by another friend saying, 'Sara... Look! SARA!!! ....SAAAAARA!!' I was aware that I looked possibly quite foolish as I stood up, with my hands to my mouth, my eyes wide with disbelief and a big, gloppy tear rolling down my cheek. But I didn't really care. It was sensational. This minor miracle that must occur millions of times on a daily basis around the world but still succeeds in feeling so special and unique every time. My baby was finally up on her feet! She may be No 3 but she certainly knows how to pause for dramatic effect. Yeah - about a 6 month pause. That's my Ava; whatever happens, she'll always fight to get noticed. And boy, do I feel relieved. Phew. Now, what do I need to worry about next? ;-)