She grows, As Polly turns seven years old, her growth, and mine, astound me

It’s a sunny Sunday afternoon. Evangeline swings in the adaptive swing while her Papa dutifully pushes her back and forth. Elaina and Zoya, with adult-like bodies but childlike hearts, swoop and slide on the monkey bars. I shadow Polly to make sure she doesn’t get hurt, to help her if she asks.

An elevated Chicago train rumbles above us along the perimeter of the park. I turn to watch it push forward for a moment. The sun blinds my eyes. I look down at my shoes.

My head raises and I glance around for Polly, who has seized the opportunity to rush to another activity while her Mom is momentarily preoccupied.

“Polly, where are you?” I call.

“Over here, Mom. I’m here.”

“Where?”

I turn around where I stand. I don’t see her.

“Here.”

Her voice calls from above. I notice the knotted rope ladder to my right and catch sight of my daughter’s blue and green Velcro tennis shoes command step after step as she scurries up.

I had no idea she could climb like that, sure-footed, easily, without any help, on weaving ropes that bend and rock as she moves.

Polly turns seven this Friday.

Her diagnosis of Down syndrome picked up my world and threw it against a brick wall. For a long time I stayed like that; drippy, unglued, apart, so very sad about the presence of an extra chromosome in my child, and so very, very frightened of the future.

I was as weak as a mom as Polly was as a new baby. Her infant body resembled a bag of brown sugar. For months, her arms and legs flopped around. She was unable to hold her head up for a long time.

As was I.

But I am happy to report that we both have grown important muscles over the last seven years. Her muscles to stand, and then run, and jump, and climb a knotted rope ladder. And me, muscles to love without fear, to trust God’s perfect plan, to advocate for my daughter and beyond all else, enjoy the crap out of her.

Her growth astounds me. Polly works hard to acquire new skills. She makes friends with anyone who comes into her sight. She cracks one liners, causing our whole family to burst our britches with laughter, and she continues to teach me about the important things in life.

I am incredibly blessed to be her mother. There have been hard times, and there will be more, but I plan to follow the footsteps of my daughter. To take a step when it is difficult, to work until I am sure-footed and able to chase after whatever God has put in front of me to do that day, and to make sure there is always enough time to see my children, myself, and the life I have been given, through the eyes of God.