I haven’t kidnapped him!
Yes, I’m a mum in a wheelchair… So what?!
Nanny always told me, ‘You can do anything you want.’
See, I was born with cerebral palsy. Complications at birth meant my brain was starved of oxygen. Doctors told my parents I’d never walk or talk.
But Alice, my nanny, wasn’t having any of that.
‘Nonsense!’ she said, arranging physio, and exercising with me.
She’d take me horseriding, too, and insisted I went to a mainstream school.
I was soon talking – and, at 7, I took my first steps to walk down the aisle to receive my First Holy Communion.
‘The sky’s the limit,’ Nanny always insisted.
In time, I graduated from uni and got a good job as a customercomplaints handler. I could walk short distances with a stick, but it was usually faster – and safer – to use my wheelchair.
But, keeping Nanny’s words in mind, I didn’t let that stop me.
Aged 26, I flew to Wales to visit a friend. On a night out clubbing in Cardiff, we were dancing when a group of lads joined us. One was shyer than the rest. ‘Hi, I’m Sarah,’ I shouted up to him. ‘I’m Danny,’ he smiled. We chatted for the rest of the night, then went our separate ways.
Weeks later, a Facebook friend request popped up. Danny!
Soon, he came to visit me – and we fell in love as I showed him around town.
He saw me, not my chair. And I saw a lovely, sweet, caring man…
Fast-forward a year and a half, and Danny moved to Northern Ireland to be with me.
And, in 2010, he proposed.
‘Yes!’ I squealed.
My parents
Doctors told my parents I’d never walk or talk
were so happy for us. And Nanny was as excited as I was!
The wedding was at the church where I’d made my First Holy Communion all those years before.
‘I’m determined to walk down that aisle again,’ I told Nanny.
‘When you’ve spent that much money on a dress, you want to show it off!’ she said.
She even agreed to walk me down the aisle to give me away.
Mum wrapped my walking stick in the same material as my dress, and, on my big day in May 2013, I took one careful step after another.
I stood to say my vows, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house…
I’d been told I was unlikely to conceive but, on honeymoon, we started trying for a baby.
‘I’ve spent my life defying doctors, so why stop now?’ I said to Danny.
It wasn’t easy – but, after three years and a devastating miscarriage, I was pregnant. Hearing the heartbeat at
our 12-week scan was the best feeling ever.
Pregnancy was tough. I had terrible morning sickness, and the pressure on my spine meant constant backache. But I was too ecstatic to mind!
As my bump grew, people would stare at me, probably thinking, That disabled lady can’t be pregnant – she must just be really fat!
So I bought myself a t-shirt printed with HANDS OFF THE BUMP to clear things up. Our son Dexter was born by planned Caesarean last July – 8lb 1oz of pure perfection! Back home, my disability presented some challenges, but we coped. I focused on breastfeeding, while Danny dealt with the dirty nappies. ‘We’re a team,’ I laughed. ‘I’m in charge of input and you deal with output!’ Our families were in love with Dexter, too. Needless to say, Nanny, now 81, was one very proud great-gran! But, whenever I took Dexter out, the stares from strangers got even worse. Determined to change attitudes, I started a blog called The Wheelie Momma Diaries.
Now I’m focusing on getting back on my feet. Pregnancy affected my spine, but I’m determined to walk again.
Now 10 months, Dexter will soon be taking his first steps – and I want to be a step ahead!
And I’ve another project in mind – making a little brother or sister for Dexter.
After all, as Nanny’s always said, the sky’s the limit!
Determined to change attitudes, I started a blog