Down Syndrome awareness

This is not a recent photo of Anna. I know, because I was sad when she outgrew that adorable little jacket, and because that's in the backyard of our house in Atlanta, which we left in June 2009. I know, because I have seen her face develop over the past few years. She's not quite that little girl anymore. 

My awareness of Down Syndrome began long before Anna came into my life. I remember learning about Down Syndrome in science class in the 7th grade. (That's year 8 in the UK system.) At the age of 12, I made a note to self: have children by 30, so that you never have to worry about this. 

I suppose that's the parental equivalent of the missionary's prayer, 'God, please don't send me to China.' By the time I was pregnant with Anna, at 32, the trisomy-21 spectre had vanished. I remembered, of course, what I had thought two decades earlier, but it had lost its urgency. My odds were good. Down Syndrome was something that happened to others. When I declined the tests, I did so because we had agreed that we were having a baby. Period. In hindsight, I realize I also believed the tests were unnecessary, because my baby was going to have 46 chromosomes, thank you very much. I was really worried about peanut allergies. 

Well, she's not allergic to peanuts. Good thing, too, because peanut butter is one of the three major food groups in Anna's diet. Up there with ketchup and oranges. She does, however, have an extra copy of her 21st chromosome, and most everything that goes along with it. Three heart surgeries, lots of doctor visits;  physical therapy from four months, speech therapy from 12 months; developmental delays of varying degrees across every area of her development. Even still, it took me years to come to terms with the permanence of the condition: she's not going to outgrow this, and she's not going to be 'cured'. It just doesn't work that way. And just when you think you have come to terms with it, you realize some other area of life that is likely to be affected by that extra chromosome, and it hits you all over again, just like the moment that you first knew your baby had Down Syndrome. 

Most days, though, I have to admit that I am not really 'aware' of Down Syndrome. I'm just aware of Anna. She's my lovely, mischievous, girly girl. She can be incredibly sweet and helpful. And she can be frustratingly awkward and stubborn. She is learning to read and write, is as hopeless at math as I was, and is preparing (along with Thomas) for her first Holy Communion. She goes at her own pace and in her own way, like my other children...just more slowly and less predictably.

So I suppose you might say that God sent me to China. I am gradually learning the language and the customs of this new country. And you know what? It's starting to feel like home.