This is a poem my mother wrote when I was very young:
Born 8 lbs 5 ounces
But she`s not the same
10 toes 10 fingers
but she`s not the same
big brown eyes, brown hair
but she`s not the same
beautiful face, healthy and happy
but she`s not the same
Silence, only silence
a syndrom perhaps
maybe not.
Why the silence?
why no words?
the tests, the wait, the worry
Finally, a few words
finally communication
but she`s not the same
The joy, the uniqueness,
the smile, the laughter, the love
she`s wonderful
and yes, she`s not the same.