23/11/2025
I feel like every day with Jonah comes with this tiny question hanging over my shoulder: “Is this normal?” I think every parent asks it, but I still catch myself wondering if I’m somehow the only one doing it on loop.
I sit there thinking: is this a phase? a leap? a quirk? or just… Jonah being Jonah?
I watch him at baby groups, how he’ll happily toddle over to any adult and plonk himself on their lap like he’s known them for years. Part of me melts, because he’s so trusting and open-hearted. Another part of me pokes that same question again: should he have more “stranger danger” by now? Then I remind myself that he’s still so little. He’s barely tasted the world. How could he possibly know who’s “safe” or not? All he knows is who feels warm, who smiles, who plays.
He pushes cars back and forth for ages, completely absorbed, and I ask myself: Is this normal? Is this just his thing? Is it a boy thing? A Jonah thing? The truth is, the more time passes, the more I realise that “normal” is this huge stretchy word that somehow manages to fit every baby inside it.
Theres days when he’s extra cuddly, days when he’s distant, days when he’s loud, days when he’s intense. And I think, honestly, aren’t we all like that? Why do I expect him to be consistent when I’m not? Why do I assume his quirks are problems instead of personality? I think sometimes I get caught between wanting reassurance and wanting control.
What I keep coming back to is this: Jonah is learning who he is at the same exact time I’m learning who I am as his mum. We’re both winging it. We’re both just responding to the world with whatever tools we have that day.
And maybe asking “Is this normal?” isn’t a sign that something is wrong ,maybe it’s just a sign that I care enough to pay attention to who he is and what he needs. That I want the best for him. That I’m watching him grow so closely I notice every tiny thing. Maybe that’s what being a mum is? noticing, worrying, loving, wondering, and then realising that he’s exactly who he needs to be right now.
Maybe the real question isn’t “Is this normal?”
Maybe it’s “Does this feel like Jonah?”
And most days, the answer is yes.
Until he finds something new to make us worry about / laugh about / think about when I should be asleep.
Anogher layer underneath all of that, there’s this constant, tinnitus like buzz that humms under all this. The fear around milestones. When you’ve been told your baby had brain injury, even if they seem okay now, the whole idea of “development” becomes something different. Other parents see milestones as cute checklists; for me they can feel like cliffs Jonah has to climb.
Every new skill is a mix of pride and a tiny spike of panic. If he’s early with something, I breathe out. If he’s a bit behind, even just by a week, my mind whispers: is this the moment the extent of his birth shows? is this the delay? is this where things change? Has reality cracked? It’s exhausting, carrying that invisible stopwatch in my head.
I can never dwell long, I watch him and see how determined he is. The absolute textbook definition of resilience.
I watch his curiosity, his busy body, and how stubborn he is in the best possible way. Jonah doesn’t know about milestones or charts or what professionals expect. He only knows how to be himself, in his own time.
This is when I remind myself that his story didn’t end in those early frightening minutes of his life. It started there. And every day since, he’s been proving that his little brain is stronger, smarter, and more resilient than I ever gave it credit for.
Milestones are scary, yes. But Jonah isn’t. Jonah is brave. Jonah is capable. Jonah is still becoming who he is. He is making his Debut as a person. Maybe the most “normal” thing of all is that I’m learning to trust his pace, even when my fear tries to rush him.
He’s writing his own timeline, I’ll have to continue my patience as it unfolds.
The Hunnan motto is;
If there’s one thing that never changes, is that things always change.
