Pulling to stand

(Here’s an old post about Polly and I both pulling to stand in the midst of Down syndrome)

The year after Polly was born I cried every day. My daughter’s diagnosis was hard to take. It grieved me.

People urged me to give it time. ”Let the baby change you,” they’d say. “Soon enough, you’ll only see Polina, not the Down syndrome.”

One dad, whose adult daughter has Down syndrome, wrote, “I know the sun will rise again, and you will laugh again. At some point, you will not choose any other child.”

And they claimed there would be a thousand blessings in seeing my child break stereotypes, watching her pass the limits placed on her, learning how to love unconditionally and with abandon.

But I was unsure. I didn’t know if I really would get excited about little things. Things that come easy to most children. Things that my daughter would have to fight for. I was convinced that I would always focus on the bigness of Down syndrome; delays, lifetime parenting; health issues, stigma.

But now, most days, when I look at Polly, I don’t see Down syndrome, I just see my daughter.

And I experience immense joy at her accomplishments. I am much more emotional in general, towards all my girls.  I am taking deep breaths. I am paying attention.

Polly’s new trick is pulling to stand in her crib. She is doing it daily now. Every time I go up to get her and she is standing, we look at one another in amazement, and we laugh. It’s as if she is saying, “I have no idea what I am doing, but it feels great.”

It’s a good season… pulling to stand.