This is an entirely new world that we’ve so completely absorbed it feels like we’ve had Down syndrome all along and therefore find it fairly unremarkable. We haven’t lost our identities to a diagnosis, or we have and I haven’t noticed.
We may have no clue where we are headed or what the road will feel like beneath our uncalloused feet, but we go because the only thing worse than hurting trying is the fear of looking back at time wasted.
Why a DS diagnosis doesn’t automatically open doors to therapy is at least a thinly veiled prioritization of state funding that doesn’t value this vulnerable population.
When we joined the Down Syndrome Parenting League last year (no, that’s not really a thing), two major events happened. First, we built an impenetrable wall between us, a.k.a. the […]
At Her Own Pace 