It’s the end of another busy week and MaryMargret
Williams is shuttling her brood home from school. She
drives an enormous SUV, but her six children and their
coats and bags and snacks manage to fill every inch. The
three big kids are bouncing in the very back. Sophia, 10,
with a mouth of new braces, is complaining about a boy-
crazy friend. She sits next to Anthony, seven, and Aleena,
five, who are glued to something on their mother’s iPhone.
The three little kids squirm in three car seats across the
middle row. Myah, two, is mining a cherry slushy, and
Luke, one, is pawing a bag of fresh crickets bought for the
family gecko.

Finally there’s Gabrielle, who’s the smallest child, and the
second oldest, at nine years old. She has long, skinny legs
and a long, skinny ponytail, both of which spill out over the
edges of her car seat. While her siblings giggle and squeal,
Gabby’s dusty-blue eyes roll up towards the ceiling. By
the calendar, she’s almost an adolescent. But she has the
buttery skin, tightly clenched fingers and hazy awareness
of a newborn.

Back in 2004, when MaryMargret and her husband, John,
went to the hospital to deliver Gabby, they had no idea
anything was wrong. They knew from an ultrasound that
she would have clubbed feet, but so had their other
daughter, Sophia, who was otherwise healthy. And
because MaryMargret was a week early, they knew Gabby
would be small, but not abnormally so. “So it was such a
shock to us when she was born,” MaryMargret says.
Gabby came out purple and limp. Doctors stabilised her in
the neonatal intensive care unit and then began a battery
of tests. Within days the Williamses knew their new baby
had lost the genetic lottery. Her brain’s frontal lobe was
smooth, lacking the folds and grooves that allow neurons
to pack in tightly. Her optic nerve, which runs between the
eyes and the brain, was atrophied, which would probably
leave her blind. She had two heart defects. Her tiny fists
couldn’t be pried open. She had a cleft palate and an
abnormal swallowing reflex, which meant she had to be fed
through a tube in her nose. “They started trying to prepare
us that she probably wouldn’t come home with us,” John
says. Their family priest came by to baptise her.

Day after day, MaryMargret and John shuttled between
Gabby in the hospital and 13-month-old Sophia at home.
The doctors tested for a few known genetic syndromes, but
they all came back negative. Nobody had a clue what was
in store for her. Her strong Catholic family put their faith in
God. “MaryMargret just kept saying, ‘She’s coming home,
she’s coming home’,” recalls her sister, Jennie Hansen.
And after 40 days, she did.

Gabby cried a lot, loved to be held, and ate every three
hours, just like any other newborn. But of course she
wasn’t. Her arms would stiffen and fly up to her ears, in a
pose that the family nicknamed her “Harley-Davidson”. At
four months old she started having seizures. Most
puzzling and problematic, she still wasn’t growing. John
and MaryMargret took her to specialist after specialist: a
cardiologist, a gastroenterologist, a geneticist, a
neurologist, an ophthalmologist and an orthopaedist. “You
almost get your hopes up a little – ’This is exciting! We’re
going to the gastro doctor, and maybe he’ll have some
answers’,” MaryMargret says. But the experts always said
the same thing: nothing could be done.


While Gabby’s hair and nails grew, her body wasn’t
getting bigger. She was developing in subtle ways, but at
her own pace. MaryMargret vividly remembers a day at
work when she was pushing Gabby’s stroller down a
hallway with skylights in the ceiling. She looked down at
Gabby and was shocked to see her eyes reacting to the
sunlight. “I thought, ‘Well, you’re seeing that light!’”
MaryMargret says. Gabby wasn’t blind, after all.

Despite the hardships, the couple decided they wanted
more children. In 2007 MaryMargret had Anthony, and the
following year she had Aleena. By this time, the Williamses
had stopped trudging to specialists, accepting that Gabby
was never going to be fixed. “At some point we just
decided,” John recalls, “it’s time to make our peace.”

http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20140520-the-girls-who-never-age

.

Frankenstein: It’s the end of another busy week and MaryMargret
Williams is shuttling her brood home from school. She
drives an enormous SUV, but her six children and their
coats and bags and snacks manage to fill every inch. The
three big kids are bouncing in the very back. Sophia, 10,
with a mouth of new braces, is complaining about a boy-
crazy friend. She sits next to Anthony, seven, and Aleena,
five, who are glued to something on their mother’s iPhone.
The three little kids squirm in three car seats across the
middle row. Myah, two, is mining a cherry slushy, and
Luke, one, is pawing a bag of fresh crickets bought for the
family gecko.

Finally there’s Gabrielle, who’s the smallest child, and the
second oldest, at nine years old. She has long, skinny legs
and a long, skinny ponytail, both of which spill out over the
edges of her car seat. While her siblings giggle and squeal,
Gabby’s dusty-blue eyes roll up towards the ceiling. By
the calendar, she’s almost an adolescent. But she has the
buttery skin, tightly clenched fingers and hazy awareness
of a newborn.

Back in 2004, when MaryMargret and her husband, John,
went to the hospital to deliver Gabby, they had no idea
anything was wrong. They knew from an ultrasound that
she would have clubbed feet, but so had their other
daughter, Sophia, who was otherwise healthy. And
because MaryMargret was a week early, they knew Gabby
would be small, but not abnormally so. “So it was such a
shock to us when she was born,” MaryMargret says.
Gabby came out purple and limp. Doctors stabilised her in
the neonatal intensive care unit and then began a battery
of tests. Within days the Williamses knew their new baby
had lost the genetic lottery. Her brain’s frontal lobe was
smooth, lacking the folds and grooves that allow neurons
to pack in tightly. Her optic nerve, which runs between the
eyes and the brain, was atrophied, which would probably
leave her blind. She had two heart defects. Her tiny fists
couldn’t be pried open. She had a cleft palate and an
abnormal swallowing reflex, which meant she had to be fed
through a tube in her nose. “They started trying to prepare
us that she probably wouldn’t come home with us,” John
says. Their family priest came by to baptise her.

Day after day, MaryMargret and John shuttled between
Gabby in the hospital and 13-month-old Sophia at home.
The doctors tested for a few known genetic syndromes, but
they all came back negative. Nobody had a clue what was
in store for her. Her strong Catholic family put their faith in
God. “MaryMargret just kept saying, ‘She’s coming home,
she’s coming home’,” recalls her sister, Jennie Hansen.
And after 40 days, she did.

Gabby cried a lot, loved to be held, and ate every three
hours, just like any other newborn. But of course she
wasn’t. Her arms would stiffen and fly up to her ears, in a
pose that the family nicknamed her “Harley-Davidson”. At
four months old she started having seizures. Most
puzzling and problematic, she still wasn’t growing. John
and MaryMargret took her to specialist after specialist: a
cardiologist, a gastroenterologist, a geneticist, a
neurologist, an ophthalmologist and an orthopaedist. “You
almost get your hopes up a little – ’This is exciting! We’re
going to the gastro doctor, and maybe he’ll have some
answers’,” MaryMargret says. But the experts always said
the same thing: nothing could be done.


While Gabby’s hair and nails grew, her body wasn’t
getting bigger. She was developing in subtle ways, but at
her own pace. MaryMargret vividly remembers a day at
work when she was pushing Gabby’s stroller down a
hallway with skylights in the ceiling. She looked down at
Gabby and was shocked to see her eyes reacting to the
sunlight. “I thought, ‘Well, you’re seeing that light!’”
MaryMargret says. Gabby wasn’t blind, after all.

Despite the hardships, the couple decided they wanted
more children. In 2007 MaryMargret had Anthony, and the
following year she had Aleena. By this time, the Williamses
had stopped trudging to specialists, accepting that Gabby
was never going to be fixed. “At some point we just
decided,” John recalls, “it’s time to make our peace.”

http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20140520-the-girls-who-never-age

Please is dis frm a novel? Its quite interesting n i would like to read more on it. Tnks