The most dramatic improvements came after sessions on two pieces of equipment. One is a stationary bike that zaps Noa’s legs with small, rapid-fire electrical shocks, triggering her muscles to pedal even though they haven’t heard anything from her brain. The other is a treadmill equipped with a harness where Noa perches as therapists help her bend her knees and feet in a normal walking gait.

The exercises, along with surgery, have restored feeling in Noa’s body to a point below her belly button, and even in spots on her legs. She learned to use her arms to push herself to a sitting position, then to pull herself along in a crawl. And in August came the momentous graduation to the walker.

“She was the happiest little girl in the world when she got in the walker,” remembers Jordana. “Independence! Now, if we’re in a hurry to get somewhere and I say, ‘Let me carry you,’ she’ll tell me, ‘No-no- no! Walker!’ It opened up the world to her.”

But the Carmels want to open that world more. They want Noa to move her bowels without medicine and urinate without a catheter. They want her to be able to play by herself and not under watchful eyes every minute, every hour, every day. “She can’t be left alone, not at all, not ever,” says Jordana, a pensive note creeping into her determined voice. “She could fall and not know she’s hurt because she can’t feel the pain. Her bones are fragile and prone to break.”

To make that day come sooner, Noa needs more therapy, more often. Her three-week visits to Kennedy Krieger cost $18,000 apiece. The Carmels’ insurance will pay for one visit a year; her therapists say she needs four visits annually. And if the Carmels had the stationary bike ($16,000) and the treadmill ($8,000) in their home, Noa could use them every day instead of every three months.

Without help, those prices are like bitter pie in the sky for the Carmels. With Jordana’s planned career as a psychologist on hold — she had to drop out of college a year short of her doctorate to care for Noa — Rotem’s salary as an accountant has barely kept pace with the medical bills.

“I know there are a lot of sad stories in the world,” Jordana says. “I know we’re not the only people with problems. “But it’s not like we’re asking for a dollhouse or a toy, just to give Noa the thrill of a few moments when she opens it. We’re talking about something that could change her life, something that will be helping her years and years from now.”

Adds Rotem: “We understand that nobody is going to be able to just buy Noa a $16,000 bike. But every $100 helps. Every $50 helps. That’s one step closer.”

And steps are very much on the Carmels’ minds. “My daughter is going to make the news one day,” Rotem says. “My daughter is going to walk.”