Our first mother-daughter Turner Syndrome 'chat'

Last Thursday on our way to the hospital G asked me a question that I'd been anticipating.  Why do I go to the hospital lots?
Knowing we wanted to be as open with her as possible from a young age, I decided to seize the opportunity....

Because you have Turner Syndrome sweetie.
Does Hats have Turner Syndome mummy?
No G she doesn't.
Well you and daddy do don't you?
Actually we don't darling.
Oh. Well who does then?
(Thankfully we'd recently attended a local TS meet up)
Well do you remember when we went to the restaurant on Sunday for a Turner Syndrome lunch?
Yes mummy...
Well R who you did the picture for has it. So does HM who you also did the picture for. And I and G who sat opposite you at the table, and also S.
Oh. They have Turner Syndrome like me?
Yes sweetheart.
Can I have chocolate after hospital??

Bingo. Although the word Turner Syndrome is not alien to her- she has a teddy bear called Turner,  a TS hoodie and we've attended 2 local meet ups with her- we'd never actually told her she has Turner Syndrome.

She won't fully appreciate and understand the full effects of TS for many years to come, but another fact that I know we will need to slowly drip feed is the fact that nearly all girls with TS are infertile.
G is obsessed with babies at the moment-to the point at which she is begging us to have another one, and is frequently shoving babies, pillows and cushions up her top. That breaks my heart. For her.
That said, we will also make it clear that you don't always need to be a tummy mummy to be a mummy. Thank goodness for fertility treatments, adoption and whatever advances in technology will occur in the next 20 years.

Those of you wondering whether the hospital appointment in question was THE appointment......the much anticipated referral to a new ear, nose and throat consultant. It was. And what a shambles. I'm still so incredibly angry, furious infact, that I'm not going to discuss it today.

To end on a lighter (and slightly grottier) note, this occurred yesterday. It caused my sister much hilarity and disgust, in equal measures...
I've got a bogey in my mouth!
What?!
(G proudly presented her tongue with a rather large green friend balanced precariously on the tip)
That's gross you don't eat bogeys, you only eat food! Does it taste horrible?
No its yummy.
Surely not...
No actually it's yummy scrummy!

And I'll leave you on that note!