We'll soon be closing the door on our home for the last time.
The keys will be handed to the estate agent, and a new family will take over the space we’ve lived in for more than a decade.
Moving in here, with our frail little baby, all that time ago, we were still essentially shell-shocked from our daughter’s diagnosis. Prader-Willi Syndrome was very new, very alien, and very frightening.
I didn’t have high expectations of what she’d achieve. Of what her life - or ours - would be like.
I never dreamed I'd sit here bursting with pride as she sent badly-spelled emails on her ipod. I never thought I'd see her dance. I never thought I'd watch her getting scares and thrills from Doctor Who.
I never dreamed that there would be more ups than downs. That my first emotion when thinking of my daughter would ever be anything other than overwhelming sadness.
But that’s not how it is now. I look at her and there’s one thing I feel above everything else. I feel lucky.
So it’s time to say goodbye. We’ll take with us a head full of memories of all the other stuff happened here. Plus quite a few boxes of crap. Oh, and we’ll also be packing our son. (I did mention popping him out, didn’t I?)
We’re off, to a new home in an old familiar place.
There may be blog silence for a few days while I work out how to plug the internet back in at the other end. See you on the other side.