Bathing Beauty

Brad and I live in a quaint neighborhood in the middle of Atlanta called Garden Hills. It is truly a place for families, which is what drew us to it in the first place. It has wide sidewalks, beautiful parks, a duck pond, a soccer field, and in the center of it all, a community pool.

For a long time before I became pregnant with Claire, I used to fantasize about bringing my future hypothetical children to the pool. I pictured Brad and me pulling our kids in the wagon we would buy, down the block and around the corner to the pool while our little munchkins clapped and laughed excitedly in anticipation of a fun day in the sun with their friends from the neighborhood.

When I found out about Claire's diagnosis, I questioned whether this fantasy, like many others I had for my future family, would ever become a reality. Would Claire ever learn to swim? Would she ever be able to enjoy trips to the pool?

I soon realized that many children with hydrocephalus swim, and some even use swimming as a form of therapy. And, while it's too early to tell whether Claire will be able to walk or talk or swim, I have come to believe that, even if she never does those things, there is no reason why she can't still enjoy a little fun in the sun.

With swimsuit season upon us, I thought it was time to find something for Claire to wear. I happened upon this little number in a shop near my house and couldn't resist: It looks just like something straight out of the 1920's that one would see on the beaches of the French Riviera. Of course, I had to buy the matching bathing cap. After all, we need to protect the top of her precious little head from the sun, right?

And, since the outfit wouldn't be complete without the matching cover-up, somehow that ended up in my shopping bag, too.

Here it is put together, modeled by the prettiest little girl I know:

Tres jolie, n'est ce pas?