The truth is, I've had a lot of serious thinking to do before I let my fingers do the talking.
I'm a bit ashamed of myself, to be honest. You see, this was the first gathering of the Down Syndrome community I had ever sought to attend, even though I've been invited to everything the Buddy Talk Facebook community has put on. Naturally, attendance was out of the question when Ava was in bad health, but I still chose to keep our family on the sidelines long after I felt comfortable blowing-and-going at the speed of a modern family.
I can only put this out there in hopes that you won't judge me harshly; my only defense is that my actions are a product of fear, and that fear is rooted in an inherent drive to protect our daughter.
I wasn't scared of what it would be like to meet so many other children and adults with Downs. Heck, they were the life of the party! Being around so many sunny, social individuals, one couldn't help but smile the entire time. It was a huge encouragement to watch them playing rowdily with their siblings, or making their rounds for conversation. In my eyes, each one was a puzzle piece of Ava's future I could put all together for a peek into what appears to be a very promising adulthood.
What I DIDN'T look for -- and what I was scared of finding -- were children who were ill. I guess in my mind, if I saw quite a few children there who were weak and sick, that would also mean that possibility would be looming over Ava's head.
Most all parents of children with Downs have that doctor's handout tucked into a folder somewhere -- the one detailing all of the screenings that have to be done throughout these individuals' lives. A list of bullets to dodge. Timely reminders that You're Never Out Of The Water Completely.
I find it so hard to reconcile those possibilities of future difficulty with her present state of being. We still struggle with gaining the upper hand on a few developmental issues, but for the most part we try to let Ava be the messy, pretty, über-social toddler that she is. We reminder ourselves that bringing a child into the world is ALWAYS fraught with dangers and uncertainties, and that maybe we're fortunate to be better equipped than most to watch for hers.
But back to the gathering: I was so busy being nervous about what I might see someone struggling against, it took me a few long minutes to settle into the reality of the scene: I seemed to be the only one cowering like a lightning-licked goat; everyone else was playing and moving from circle to circle. I think the moment I finally allowed myself a gulp of oxygen was when I ran into a friend of mine from the Buddy Talk board. Her son, Drake, was born two weeks before Ava, and let me tell you, this child will soon take the modeling world by storm. I mean, this baby boy has eyelashes that would melt an ostrich's heart.
I'm pretty sure a betrothal will be arranged soon.
Hey, it's never to early to lay the foundation for a timeless romance.
Anyway, it took me a beat, but having that face-to-face contact with another family who seemed to be having nothing but fun out in the late-day sunshine just helped me to relax and be present in the moment.
We batted balloons.
We took pictures.
We couldn't believe Daddy could open his "mouf" so wide.
We laughed watching the little feller with squeaker shoes go on a one-man dance parade around the event announcer.
And when we left, I wasn't thinking about surgeries or aspiration episodes or growth charts.
I was thinking about hundreds of blue and yellow balloons, one for each chromasomally-blessed person we loved, floating up like prayers of appreciation for their presence in the world.
And I was also thinking of Mexican food.
And Fraggles.
(Because this is how my brain works. Hey, SQUIRREL!!!)
No comments:
Post a Comment