She’s Perfect… But Something Didn’t Feel Right

When I had my first baby in 2016, I constantly compared him to others. I’d stress over milestones, panic when he wasn’t doing something “on time,” and lose sleep over the smallest things. Then he’d hit the milestone, all would be fine, and I’d think:

Why did I worry so much?

But sure enough, the next worry would arrive.
So when my second baby came along, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again.

The First Night

From our first night home from the hospital, I lay next to her—this beautiful, perfect little girl—and felt something I didn’t want to feel: worry.

I told myself I was doing it again. That she was absolutely fine. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

I did what most anxious mams do at 2am—I Googled everything (please don’t Google!). By morning, I’d convinced myself I was overreacting. But when the midwife visited, I told her anyway. She didn’t dismiss me. She reassured me, but she also took me seriously. At our next visit, she suggested we take Daisy to the children’s ward to be on the safe side.

Everything came back fine.

“See? She’s fine. Stop worrying. Enjoy her.”
I told myself that, over and over.

Still, Something Was Off

At her 6-week check, I mentioned Daisy’s reflux. We tried a few things, eventually landing on a formula called Neocate that really helped. I didn’t think much of it at the time—just one of those baby things.

But as she grew, my gut started whispering again.

By six months, Daisy was the happiest little baby—beautiful, full of light. But something still felt… off. Her head tilted to one side, and she wasn’t quite meeting milestones. Everyone around me said, “She’ll get there in her own time,” but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it.

Thankfully, her paediatrician listened. She saw what I meant. She said, “Mammy knows best,” and referred us for physiotherapy while continuing to keep a close eye.

Glimpses of Progress

At Daisy’s first physio appointment, she surprised us all. She did things I hadn’t seen her do before—lifting her head during tummy time, smiling, showing off. At home, tummy time usually meant five minutes of tears and frustration. But that day, she shone.

Things were moving slowly, but they were moving.

Then June 2024 came, and everything changed.

Daisy was admitted to hospital with pneumonia. We stayed for 11 nights. The infection had caused a lung collapse.
It was terrifying.

This Isn’t That Post

But this isn’t a post about what went wrong, or what we discovered, or what came next.

This is a post about that feeling—the one you try to ignore but can’t. The one where you’re telling yourself not to worry, but your heart is quietly screaming that something isn’t right.

To the parent going through that feeling: You’re not alone.

To the person facing something completely different—whether it’s parenting struggles, money problems, grief, trauma, or even something so far removed you feel it’s hard for anyone to believe—you’re not alone either.

Somewhere out there, someone else is walking a path a lot like yours.
And if support feels out of reach? Create it. Start something. Speak up. Open the door for connection.

That’s what I’m doing here.

This is only the beginning of Daisy’s story. But more than that—it’s the beginning of holding space for others who are feeling “not quite right” in their own story.

You’re not alone. You never were.