Audrey turns nine!

When the birthday comes around, my musings about the past, present and future come too. So here we are. Nine years of Audrey.

My summer baby

I guess I would normally be talking about how far we’ve come since the surprise diagnosis postnatally. Sharing positives, expressing how much we love and appreciate her, but it’s also worth talking about the not-so-super-fantastic things about having a child with needs like Audrey’s.

You see, in the early Instagram and blogging years, I read a few things other T21 mums said about pushing the whole “cute” angle with Down syndrome which can be damaging, and belittle the experiences of those facing the reality of a more grown up child with DS. “It’s no so cute if they’re 18 and still in nappies” etc.

Not everyone’s reality is a “capable” child. But at the time I just felt that, well, my child is cute and loveable and easy going – I can only write and represent my own reality, right?

Whilst that remains true (I can only write about my experiences), I see more and more as Audrey grows, with the challenges we face/will be facing, why those families might feel the “cute” loveable baby that’s “just like other babies” angle is a bit icky.

Because Audrey is fabulous. She’s awesome. A lot of fun, a kind and sweet little girl. But she’s also not. She’s whiny, difficult, stubborn, she can be mean, unkind, naughty and hard work. Well, all kids are complex and can be kind but also mean… Audrey’s ability to be both wonderful and a pain in the butt is clearly something she has in common with neurotypical kids.

But the real “difference” – the real area where I feel like the mother of a child who is disabled/neurodivergent/has additional needs, are those things that separate her without question from her typical peers.

Running. Audrey likes to run down the street ahead of us. She’s pretty good at stopping at the kerb (but that’s not 100% guaranteed), but it’s still very stressful. In crowded areas, she could get lost or knocked over, roads with driveways or entries to parking areas etc are unsafe and it’s especially uncomfortable if she is able to turn a corner miles ahead of me. She loves to be free and she enjoys doing this. If Rex did the same, but I asked him not to, he would stop. Audrey on the other hand, often takes great pleasure in defying me. I can walk down the street with her younger brother and he will hold my hand, listen to me and walk sensibly. A walk down the street with Audrey can be like that (rarely) but more often than not, it’s stressful,

Complaining. This girl can whine. She can use this skill to get what she wants, but if we do stand firm, she’ll just keep doing it even if it is ruining everyone’s experience. She’ll whine if we are watching a TV show she doesn’t want to watch. She’ll whine if the walk we are taking is too long. She’ll whine if she wants to go home from somewhere we’ve just arrived at. She’s rarely shy at saying what she’s thinking, especially if that thought is “I don’t want to do this”.

Stopping. Preferable to the running? I’m unsure. The running fills me with fear, but the stopping brings out a very angry grown up mum side to me. I have very little patience with her when she just sits and refuses to move. It drives me mad. As she gets bigger I wonder how I will move her. Obviously I hope she’ll grow out of it soon.

A recent stop and sit.

Developmental milestones. This is a big one. Where other parents of nine year olds are eyeing up how close they are to an independent kid… that feels a very long way off for us, because it is. We are not even at the stage where we can trust her out of sight in the park (which is fine for her six year old brother), so getting to a stage where she’s maybe walking to a friend’s house around the corner or making us tea – that’s not even close. I know I am going to struggle when parents of typical kids start to discuss how much easier things are, and what it’s like to leave behind those stressful years of doing everything for your child… when I shall remain in it. Still reading bedtime stories, still wiping her bum…

Physical barriers. Audrey finds climbing, uneven ground, stairs and all sorts of fairly basic physical things tricky. She’s always going to have to work that but harder at things like this and it’s a shame because she loves sport, but it’s not always accessible as she can’t keep up with others and is a bit fragile (a good example would be that she loves kicking a ball around, but the reality is, playing actual football she will either never get a look in (too slow) or will get hit/kicked/knocked and be upset and want to stop). She can’t take part in the same clubs an activities that typical kids can without additional support.

Repetition. This kid can repeat and repeat. A good example would be: on Mondays, she has an after school club which means she needs two snacks (one for morning, one for after school). If someone so much as mentions “Monday” Audrey will say what club she does and that she needs two snacks. She’ll mention this on Sunday night, in prep for Monday. She’ll mention it on Monday morning, so I don’t forget. She’ll probably mention it when I collect her. And she’ll no doubt say at some point in the week when we discuss what we are doing Thursday, and she’ll feel the need to say that on Mondays she has two snacks. She is that repetitive. Yes some of it winds me up. But what I always think is – if I can only just about handle it, when I love her to bits, do other people just find her crazily annoying?!?

Societal barriers. There is no escaping that Audrey’s options are not the same as her brother’s. If she wants to do an after school club, I don’t just sign her up and shove her in. And the obstacles will increase as she gets older (for example, when Rex is a teenager, there will be no need for “childcare”, but can the same be said of Audrey in her teenage years?). And once she reaches adulthood, we have a new level to navigate (education, work, living arrangements, independence, life skills). I am not expecting an easy ride.

So there you have it, a little “happy birthday Audrey” with a big helping of real life. Audrey is a complex being! Not just the cute and hilarious kid that makes me proud. She is all of the things. She will need more help than her typical peers, but we are up for it. And nine years on from holding that scrawny little thing that looked like an orang-utan, wondering what I did to deserve a baby with Down’s syndrome, at least now, despite everything, I feel like it had to be something good.

Are things getting easier or am I getting braver?

Half term is done and dusted. Like many parents, as half term approached, I was torn between the feeling of relief that we don’t have to rush around to be at school on time and despair that I have to come up with ways to entertain two small children for a week, whilst squeezing in work.

Train travel!

I’m often quite slack at filling a school break with daily activities, but I like to have at least a couple of things booked in. Lockdown was certainly a time where we all realised that we could survive (just about) without having places to go or things “booked in”, suddenly we just had to make do with local outdoor space, our own company and home activities. Having a child like Audrey meant that home was actually an easy place to be – but Audrey’s brother is more like a puppy – he needs his daily exercise or he tears the place up!

I always have to remind myself that with children you go through phases – where some of what they do makes them ‘easy’ and other aspects are hard. Like when a newborn doesn’t sleep well, but at least they don’t move. With a child who has additional needs, it’s harder to second guess when they’ll be “easier” and when they’ll be “harder” to deal with. For example, Audrey wasn’t mobile until she was 16 months old (when she bottom shuffled) and once she was able to walk, she wasn’t immediately the sort to wander off or purposefully run away – that came around age 5/6 ish when it made outdoor life much more tense. She was definitely what I’d call a relatively easy child when she was small. She’s more complicated now.

Beach time.

Because of my tendency to fret about the little things that could make a trip with children stressful, I usually aim to “play it safe” and take my two to places we have been to lots of times or to meet with others so I have more hands/eyes on deck. I’m usually worried about parking, distance to a toilet, their stamina for walking distances… some of this can be planned for, but general whining or dislike of the place can (and too often does) come out of the blue. You can’t always plan for a child’s mood.

So it feels a shock for me to say that this half term was a success. In the past I’ve had some disastrous days; like Audrey completely disappearing for approximately 15 minutes and me calling 999 or Rex stacking it on concrete 30 seconds into a park trip… but this week I have told my children everyday “thank you so much for a lovely time today and for being so good” and meant it! I mean, what is going on?! It had made me sit and think: are they getting easier or am I getting braver? I guess it’s a combination of the two.

In many ways, with Rex aged 5 and I’d say, quite grown up for his age and Audrey at nearly 8 but “delayed”, at times it is much like I would expect dragging twins around would be. Audrey often makes the rules, as it can be her stubbornness that dictates where we go and when we leave, although likewise she has a kind and generous streak which allows her to be convinced to give in to her brother’s demands.

This week I did things that would normally scare me (like going on a train alone with the two of them, with no buggy) and we didn’t just survive – we had a good time! We went to the cinema and Audrey wanted to go to the toilet three times during the film(!), but with a friend sat in the row behind us, I didn’t have to convince Rex to join us. In all honesty, I trust him much more to stay still or stick with me than I trust Audrey, so it was a relief she was the frequent toilet visitor and not him!

At the beach, Audrey was happy sat making sand castles for a lot longer than she usually would be. Rex adores the sea and could probably stay all day if it’s warm, but on this occasion it was a bit chilly, so he was happy to leave when Audrey was (about 90mins in). This is an improvement (it’s always a disappointment if you’ve dragged everything but the kitchen sink down there for one of them to whine and want to leave after 15 minutes!). Naturally, Audrey needed the toilet and had I been alone with them, we would have had to pack up all out stuff (blanket, water bottles, jackets, buckets… laden across the sand) and hiked back over the pebbles to visit the toilets before dragging it all back. Thankfully a friend came along with us and watched Rex whilst I took Audrey off to the loo. There’s definitely safety in numbers when you have a child with SEND (or even in fact, just if you have children)!

Ice cream fun.

Audrey still tests me of course, sneakily creating a bit of distance in the park or running off ahead around a big garden visit and she often decides she needs a wee once we are as far away from the toilet as we can be… but we got by, we had no accidents and I kept close to her without needing to sprint or feel stressed… and it’s made me look forward to the summer holiday ahead. I’m hopeful that the combination of my bravery and their progress will make for fun times all round!

Telling Audrey she has Down syndrome.

As Down syndrome awareness month (October) is almost upon us, I thought it might be the right time to write about telling Audrey she has Down’s syndrome (-by the way for anyone who doesn’t know, Down’s and Down syndrome are both acceptable ways of writing her condition, the latter being more common in the US).

I have no great insight or advice for anyone wondering when or how to tell their children, but this is our experience…

Sister and brother asleep
My two peas in their pod (Audrey’s bed!)

The fact is, Ted and I really weren’t sure when to tell her or her brother. I kept thinking “Well here I am hashtagging her, sharing, chatting, raising awareness… but I haven’t really made her “aware” she has Down’s syndrome” and that seemed a bit odd. But also: she is at a mainstream school, with friends who are ‘typical’ children and they are all playing together and accepting of each other, pointing out her difference seemed a bit counter-productive.

Then the summer ended and I realised Rex would be at the same school as his sister, alongside lots of older children who may well know that Audrey has DS and what that means… I felt I wouldn’t want either of them to be completely baffled if someone mentioned it.

As a family, we have briefly alluded to it here and there over the years, kids can be hilariously disinterested when you attempt to get deep or explain complex things to them, so we don’t think anything ever sunk in. Generally these discussions would come to explain why Audrey was older than a certain child, but couldn’t walk like them. Because the ‘difference’ noticed has usually been physical, I’ve relied on ‘low muscle tone’ as an explanation.

Little girl does the splits on an arm chair
Flexibility demonstrated

Over the years I have seen children her age or older, with that look that says “What is she on about?” when she’s being silly (over excited usually) or doing something they might consider strange, but at the same time kids generally just accept stuff and move on.

Rex of course has always known Audrey as his big sister, with no expectations of what that might mean (should she be cleverer, faster, stronger or bossier than him? Shouldn’t she be out of night time nappies?). I know that in time, it’s likely he will start to feel like the older sibling, he will notice the differences between Audrey and her peers, but currently, it’s not something that needs highlighting. It’s a truly wonderful time for them to be siblings, with no “difference” being highlighted or acknowledged. But, that said, subtle differences are already creeping in. He knows he’s faster at running. He knows he can climb when she can’t. He may have thought it strange he nailed pooing on the toilet before she did. So the time came that we needed to tell them both that Audrey has Down’s syndrome…

We took an opportunity when running was being discussed again and said, “Well, Audrey has something called Down’s syndrome that makes it a bit harder for to run as fast as you, but she’s very flexible and good at yoga because of it”. We repeated this again a couple of days later and got the classic kid response “I know, you already told me”.  But shortly after I heard Rex telling Audrey “You have Down’s syndrome Audrey, so you can’t run fast” and then Audrey replying “It means I’m super flexible!”. And that was that.

At present, with Rex just starting reception, it’s a short window whilst she knows more letters and words than he does, that she can read books and write sentences… but I can see it won’t be long until he’s caught up with her. I hope that we can always instil that sense that although Down’s syndrome brings challenges, there are positives to her condition. She wouldn’t be the child she is without it and we wouldn’t want her to be anyone else.

Our Movicol journey…

Ok, so this is quite a niche blog post! But I thought it might be useful to anyone with a constipated child, considering Movicol, using Movicol, about to use Movicol… I’m certainly not an expert or medical professional, but this is our poo story… or rather Audrey’s (age 7).

I think Audrey started to experience constipation around age 4/5 ish. She had been through a short fussy eating stage, but on the whole, her eating habits had become pretty good – she now happily eats a variety of vegetables and lots of fruit, but our problem is: fluids.

Audrey will sip a little water in the morning with her toast, a little bit more later and then throughout the day (with encouragement) drink a bit more. There are days when I could see she had pretty much only had a small cup’s worth of water the entire day! Using a straw seems to help her drink more and she does enjoy a juice box, but literally the only liquid I have ever seen her “down in one” is a 60ml portion of chocolate flavour Movicol!!

But back to the start of our journey. Audrey’s constipation presented itself very traditionally as several days without pooing. She would be in a very bad mood and 99.9% of her poos were in her night time nappy. To be completely honest, not worrying about poos in the daytime (being out and about and finding a toilet etc) was convenient. She progressed to pants age 5 and it was nice that we didn’t get those kind of accidents. We just gave her a spoonful of Califig most days and hoped for the best, she generally had a bowel movement every other day and we would find a poo in her nappy at night (that we would discover before we went to bed and change as she slept) or a poo greeting us in her nappy in the morning.

Once we entered lockdown, we ran out of Califig and our local pharmacy didn’t have it. I made a special trip to the big Tesco to get it, but we realised that if we were going to tackle things properly and get her on a daytime poo on the toilet schedule, now was the time to do it. So at her annual review, I discussed it with the GP (over Zoom) and we received the prescription for Movicol. I had been reluctant to “medicate” before, simply because she is on no other medication and Califig is “natural”, but I regret that now. I am the sort of person who suffers a headache for a couple of hours to avoid the use of paracetamol, but I am learning to just take the meds when needed!

With Movicol everyone warned us the dosage had to be right. It’s all anyone said when the mere mention of Movicol came up. We were advised to start on one sachet a day and scale up or down, depending on her reaction. My expectation was: it will have no affect (and the dose should be increased) or it she’ll have diarrhea (and the dose will be decreased). It was much more complicated than that.

Within a couple of days of taking it (just one sachet a day), we had seen two poos on the toilet and were doing happy dancing and thinking all was solved. How simple! [Side note: thank god I use local charity Amaze for advice on Audrey’s disability living allowance claim, as I was filling in the form that week and made it sound like the Movicol had magically cured her constipation and that was that, but I was advised by their guru it was too soon to make any such declaration and I downgraded the info to “she suffers from constipation and has recently started Movicol for this”]. How right they were… within days Audrey was wriggling and grumpy and doing “micro poos” (basically: sharts) in her knickers throughout the day. I was suddenly in a world of six or more pairs of pants a day and a constant washing cycle! And our happy Audrey was now a grump most days and not pooing other than the strange small amounts! Naturally, we lowered the dose (thinking it was causing her to soil herself) to half a sachet. But no, nothing changed. So we took a break and the night time poos returned. Then the gaps between poos returned (up to 5 days!), so we went back to half a sachet, but nothing changed.

I considered morning and evening – did the timing affect things?

We went back up to a sachet a day…. but after another 4 day gap of no movement, I remembered something mentioned on a toileting forum (yes, I’d been on a toileting forum!!) and went to trusty Dr Google to find more info on disimpaction. It basically described Audrey’s symptoms (the discomfort she seemed to be in, fidgeting, the micro poos in her pants all day, the lack of any real bowel movements) and advised we needed to “flush out” a blockage from her bowel with high amounts of Movicol. It also said to not to leave the house as you’ll have to deal with watery poos for days in order to get this sorted! Yikes. As the UK was gripped by a heatwave (and we do not handle heat), I figured this was the time to get things going and started the regime. 2 sachets a day, then 3, then 4… by day 8 we were on 7 sachets of Movicol with pantyliners in her knickers to help with minor accidents (she hated being told to wear nappies again!). I am pleased to say that aside from a couple of absolute corker accidents (I threw some pants away), she was doing really well and going to the toilet when needed. I was analysing her bowel movements waiting for the “brown watery” stage and once I felt we had reached that (this was day 9 I believe), we went back down to 1 sachet a day.

Audrey’s stomach changed. The round hard bloat she often had really went down. I feel so bad for leaving it untreated for so long. She has now, for the last 3 days, achieved “normal” stools on the toilet with no soiling in her pants and no night time nappy poos! (Though she has woken me at midnight and 1am to go for a poo!).

We will keep the one sachet a day routine for now and see how we go, I just really wanted to write this to remember what we went through and also to help anyone else in a similar situation as I am a little baffled the GP didn’t warn us about the disimpaction to be honest.

I am so very proud of her because it has been a strange journey to reach age 7 and rarely have actually pooed on a toilet. I know part of that was through fear (pain passing the stools) because she told me as much. It feels like a big milestone to be here with her in pants, able to tell me she needs to go (and don’t get me wrong, I still have to be very strict making her have toilet visits for wees otherwise she would just hold it in all day!). Children with Down syndrome may find that through the low muscle tone they don’t feel the signals for toileting like others and also, the constipation will have caused her a lot of confusion over the years too.

School return is just weeks away and luckily she has 1:1s who will help with her personal care, as the next stage is to teach her to clean herself safely and successfully!

 

 

Lockdown life

It’s taken me a while to post this simply because I’ve felt a bit “meh”. I mean, who wants to hear about our lockdown when they are experiencing their own?

At times like these (yes I’m now humming the Foo Fighters and yes, the BBC version with a load of famous singers I’ve never seen before did make me cry), you can become overwhelmed. Which I have. I’ve been overwhelmed by lots of things these past weeks. General emotions, pressures of work/school work, thoughts of the weeks ahead, thoughts of others, thoughts of getting sick, thoughts of getting fat (I wish that was a joke), resources, memes, quotes, articles, educational activities – I am so grateful for everything that’s been available to us, but at one point the various What’s app groups were awash with this stuff and it didn’t make me think “Oh great, so much we can do, so much to refer to!” it was more like “Where do I start? Is everyone doing all the things? Am I the only person who doesn’t find this meme funny? Oh God I’ve seen that one 3 times already!” and “What should I do will all this information?!?”.

Things have calmed down a little now. Oh the kids are often feral, but I’ve learned to live with it better. Anyway on to my lockdown babble…

Audrey’s school closed 20th March and it was a gentle start of social distancing. We still went to the park on the Saturday, we still went for coffee, we just knew we shouldn’t get too close to other people and that was should wash our hands lots. It felt strange and we knew potentially things would become more restricted, but it all felt unreal.

By the Monday, it was no longer cool to hang out at the park or go for coffee. Advice for businesses was conflicted (people were being told not to go to pubs or restaurants, but pubs and restaurants were not officially told to close).

We made rainbows to display on our window the day Audrey’s school closed.

Pretty soon, we were in full lockdown mode. Kids at home, both me and Ted working at home, lots of TV, lots of drawing, lots of stir craziness, a smidge of school work and plenty of Zoom calls.

I work for a charity that helps families with children with special educational needs and disabilities, so I am aware that this kind of change has a massive impact on SEND families. For us, Audrey is the homebody, she likes cookery, TV, books, dolls and imaginative play. It’s her brother Rex, the typical child that needs to be walked like a dog. We are lucky to have a garden, but it is very small, so he dismantles the sofa everyday and throws himself around on it…  it’s all a bit chaotic here.

Like many, we started with a vague routine planned; a relaxed Cbeebies morning, PE at 9am (sometimes Joe, sometimes Cosmic Kids Yoga, sometimes zumba), followed by snack, then a learning task or two, TV and lunch, kids choose afternoon (from various activities – baking, craft, lego, games, chalking etc) , well I reckon that lasted about a week. What a cliche we’ve become!

I found out Rex hates organised exercise  (despite wanting to do nothing but bounce and jump all day), that Audrey loves this kind of exercise, but has to be in the right mood for most things and that school work may only be possible in 15 minute chunks. I learned that I’m not very patient, but that I can still get a lot of work done whilst listening to kids TV and having two small people constantly hound me for things… “Can I have “insert snack food here”?, Can you get this “lid off/bag zipped up/thing down from a high place?”, “I NEED A POO!” and so on. To get out of this happily, I have to attempt to free myself from wanting to “achieve” certain things each day. I realise that often I can feel really good about doing a lot work, but that will usually align with guilt that the kids have watched TV for hours and I’ve not interacted with them other than as snack opener and bum-wiper. On the flip side, if I have spent time, playing, teaching and interacting with them for hours, well, that usually means of course that I’ve done no work. So doing things in small chunks of time works best for everyone’s well-being.

Tiny play house in our tiny garden.

So I cut my hours at work (it’s made things much more manageable), Ted is working full-time, shut away upstairs most days from 8am-6pm. I’ve allowed them to have days that are nothing but TV and play. I have braved taking them out on my own more (two small children being told not to be near people/touch things – it doesn’t always go well) and I’ve been running/drinking a lot more wine (though not at the same time, obviously).

I have no super duper lockdown survival tips (because I don’t know how we are sometimes), but I can only say, that despite the moments of absolute despair, we have still found time to have fun. We can look on the bright side – we could still be in our old flat with a baby and no garden or our mums could be alive and having to isolate… so the timing isn’t so bad.  At least we do all get on, can work from home and we all love movies and board games and dancing and things you can easily do at home.

I guess I am really writing this post for prosperity, I want to look back and remember that this time was hard. The kids were demanding, there were lots of tears and guilt and shouting, but there has also been lots of lovely moments – our first viewing of Harry Potter, altogether snuggled in the sofa enjoying a feast! Ted bought a pizza oven, so good pizza has been a weekly treat. Audrey has been pooing on the toilet more (as opposed to her night-time nappy) and has done some really super writing. Rex has already shown he can follow lines and shapes really well in a ‘first writing book’. They have both coped really well with the change to their routine and are good at talking openly talking about the virus.

In fact, in some ways this time has been “easier” than the summer holidays! Because there is literally zero expectation that I need to plan anything or take them anywhere. Sure, we all think a zoo trip will be the best day ever, but the reality is often much more stressful than the fantasy, so in many ways it is a relief that we are at home and a brief trip to the park is all they hope for.

This week the government announced changes as we try to get things “back to normal”. Everyone seems to be incredibly annoyed and “confused” by the advice to “stay alert” as opposed to “stay at home”. I’m not confused. It’s hard to keep a “stay at home” slogan when you are telling people they can go out more. They can stay out for longer periods of time. Go out not just for exercise but also just to sit. See friends, but at a distance. Some businesses are opening again. Restaurants can deliver… it’s a gradual process of returning to normality. Potentially a trickier time than when the guidelines were clearer and strict though. For those of us with small children or children with SEND, it’s not a massive change. I won’t be taking my kids on long walks as they can’t be trusted not to lick something on the way. And I can’t have them meet a friend at a “safe distance” because no doubt they’d like to lick that friend. I jest… but honestly you should see Audrey sucking her thumb after playing in the dirt and Rex hugging a lamppost, it’s constant!

The biggest announcement in the government’s recent changes to lockdown had to be that Audrey’s year may return to school 1st June – which seems way too soon. Again, if we as a family are still practicing social distancing, what is the point of then sending one of us into a building with around 300 other humans in it?? I know she would love to be at school and I would love her to be there… but not until it really feels like the virus is no longer a threat.

We haven’t been ill, so at this point I feel like we could manage to shield ourselves entirely from Covid-19 (am I dreaming?), but if we have to jump back in before the storm is over… I don’t know, I just feel like Audrey might get hit hard (she has no underlying conditions or respiratory problems, so maybe not), it’s probably just that I see her as more vulnerable because of her additional needs.

It’s certainly funny to think after all the stress of lockdown, that now there is an end in sight and a return to school date, I feel like it’s too soon!

Rex’s lockdown fringe and ice cream happiness.

Audrey’s ice team happy face.

We Have a Runner!

One minute you’re willing your disabled child to learn to walk, then you’re willing them to have the energy to walk to school… the next thing you know they are running off in random directions and you can’t keep up!

My beloved good girl Audrey has discovered the fabulous feeling of freedom. Of running off alone, ignoring pleas, shouts, begs, stern-voice nos… she just keeps going.

I am fully aware that this is a common trait for children with Down’s syndrome (running off). I’ve met many a parent explaining their need for reigns/buggy straps/confined spaces for safety and throughout this I’ve been able to say, “Hmm, Audrey doesn’t really do that”. However she spends a lot of time at school now and not much time outside in open spaces with just me in charge, so maybe there hasn’t been much of an opportunity for the running? Well, she is taking the opportunity now!

This school holiday has barely started and the running off is becoming an issue. There are several reasons this phase is really hitting me hard:

  1. My lack of authority is now obvious. Both children do not seem to respond to me saying no. It’s incredibly frustrating when you try to discipline your children and they either ignore you or find your stern voice hilarious. Everything feels like it is escalating to crazy threats “No more television, ever!” or that a rage builds up and I’m growling at them and dragging them by the arm. Hideous.
  2. Her special needs are now obvious. I’m definitely upset by this “special needs” trait popping up. I hate the thought of anyone seeing me run after her (shouting her name as she ignores me), thinking “That poor woman, life must be so hard with that disabled child”. I just want people to remember that any snippet you might see of anyone’s life is just that – a snippet. So yes, she is being a challenge at the moment out and about, but on that same day she also approached a crying child to check they were ok, she also sat happily and ate her ice cream whilst her typical brother ran riot in the cafe. She also settled at bedtime stroking my face telling me I’m a good girl.
  3. My ability to parent two children feels questionable. This one gets me. If I can’t take my two children out and about without having to chase after one of them, potentially abandoning the other one, then how an earth am I allowed to be their parent? It creates anxiety around every activity I plan and I’m constantly wondering how on earth other mums cope (with two or more moving children)?

Audrey and I have discussed the running off that happened (a lot) yesterday. She has said she is sorry and she knows she needs to do good listening and stay near her mummy. We’ll work on it, but I know it’s going to be hard. It feels like she is changing and I’m struggling with that. I always describe her as a child who like to play by the rules, which remains true in some respects (shoes off indoors, wearing a school uniform), but also she kind of makes up her own rules!

 

A Strong Reception

As the summer holidays are in sight and Audrey is 6 (today!) I thought it might be a good time to write about Audrey’s life at mainstream school so far, because here we are, nearly finished with her first year in reception!

I mysteriously didn’t write (even a little) blog post about Audrey turning 5 (I checked back), but here we are welcoming the big 6 at the end of her first year of mainstream primary school and we have a summer break of (hopefully) fun times ahead.

By now I am sure you know I am so proud of my beautiful, clever, friendly little girl. We have come so far since that hot July day in 2013, when she was presented to me and all I saw was Down’s syndrome. What felt like a cruel blow now feels like the best thing that ever happened to us! We’ve had a fun and exhausting weekend celebrating her birthday, she got a doll’s house, her first “Ken” doll (she has mountains of female dolls) and as always, Audrey gave us amazing feedback saying “This is my best present ever” when she saw the dolls house and eagerly introducing Ken to “her girls” (the other dolls).

So I dropped my 6 year old off at school this morning and now I can share with you my thoughts on how things have gone for us, having a child with special needs attending a mainstream setting.

I had many fears about her starting school (even with a deferral making her one of the eldest, rather than youngest in the class), but I also knew that there was a big chance Audrey would thrive in the setting. All the adults that “worked with her” (key person at nursery, therapists, inclusion service etc) would say what a sociable, outgoing child she is and that she’d have no trouble making friends and that reception was all about making friends.

My main worries were “she’ll get crushed to death” – she is small and her low muscle-tone makes it harder for her to navigate obstacles/stay on her feet when getting knocked around. I also wondered if the whole environment might just be too loud and full-on for her.

As I am slowly learning, she is often more resilient than I expect her to be.

She did indeed get knocked about a fair bit at the beginning of school. Things you couldn’t anticipate (tripping on a trolley, getting hit by a rogue ball in the playground) will simply happen in a busy school environment. It is heart-stopping to get the call that your child has had a bump to the head, but she’s survived and I think everyone is aware now that she’s a bit more fragile than some of the other kids.

We had a parents’ evening at the beginning of school and it was so uplifting. We had fantastic feedback about her settling in, making friends, being part of the class and her positive attitude (she arrives every morning saying “Good morning guys!”). Our second parents’ evening was much the same, aside from one tiny comment about how Audrey wouldn’t be reaching her Early Learning Goals. It’s not like I expected her to be performing at the top of the class of typical children, it’s just that I had forgotten that she wasn’t on the same level, I had forgotten because we are so often focused on all that she can do. You can sort of put yourself in a protective bubble, where you look at your child through rose-tinted glasses because they, to you, are perfect. This was just a reminder that our child, measured against “typical” standards is “delayed”.

Put academic measurements aside, look at the bigger picture and you’ll see Audrey attending mainstream school has been a success. She’s made brand-new friends, she’s learned how to write her name (just about), she can sound out and read all kinds of words and she can tell me details about her day. She has progressed physically and mentally just from interacting and learning alongside her typical peers.

Audrey has school lunches – this may have contributed to an improvement in her eating at home too, as she now eats lots of vegetables and is happy trying new things. She always tells me what she’s had for lunch (macaroni cheese and fish and chips are her favourites!) and explained recently that the children line up for a “squirt” before lunch; yes, I was confused at first, but when she mimed it out I realised she meant hand sanitiser! It’s tiny details like this that really show how far she has come with her communication.

The thing is, I can put myself in the position of a parent of a typical child starting reception… you learn there is a child in the class with “special needs”; they need a 1:1. Being brutally honest I do think it would have raised concerns for me. I would wonder: “Will their behaviour be challenging?”, “Will their needs affect the class as a whole?”. So I was also nervous of the the other parents and their attitudes. I wanted to be able to tell them all that they would soon see what an asset she is.

I’m hoping it didn’t take long for people to see that. Audrey’s presence in the class is not a drain on resources. It’s not a waste of time for her to be there learning with her typical peers – it’s a success story and a positive experience for all concerned. She learns through copying, so typical children propel her education and she provides them an insight into disability. She has her challenges and I’m sure sometimes the other kids wonder what on earth she’s on about(!), but also they’ll see she is kind and thoughtful and likes lots of the same stuff they do. I also like to think her 1:1s are an asset to the class because, yes, they are there specifically for her, but they will no doubt help other children when needed.

Everyone has been welcoming and Audrey has made some great friends. We’ve had birthday parties and play-dates a plenty. She’s been on school trips to the local library to see a puppet show, to the zoo, she took part in sports day, harvest festival at the church and she performed in the nativity as an angel. Audrey was recently chosen to be “Star of the Week” (along with other children), getting a certificate and a little box allowing her to take something into school for “show and tell”. My heart is filled to the brim with pride that she is taking part in all these school activities.

She does get very tired at school, she can exclaim “Not again!?” when I tell her it’s another school day, but mostly she bounds into school full of enthusiasm and bounds out ready to tell me she had so much fun.

I know that sending your child off to school can be nerve-wracking for anyone – suddenly your child is spending a lot of time with people you don’t know very well. But it didn’t take long for her to be well-known throughout the school and I have no doubt that Audrey will have many happy years at this school.

And so on to Audrey’s second year of primary school (confusingly; year one). She enters with a knowledge of the school routine, a good group of friends and her can-do attitude! But for now, a bit of summer time fun and a break from the school routine… a welcome break but also a terrifying stretch of days ahead entertaining my two active children… wish me luck!

Attention!

Accidentally updated this post thinking it was a draft from 2019, turns out it was published (and now republished!).

I’ve made no secret of the fact that when Audrey was born, the little face that popped out looked “different” and my brain flooded with negative thoughts.

Would people want to spend time with us? I assumed not. Would they whisper about us? Stare? Strangely I imagined her finding it hard to make friends. In fact, I thought everything would be hard for Audrey and for me.

In reality, she was a baby. A baby with a tube on her face, yes. A baby with an obvious “condition”, but she could still enjoy a coffee shop visit and baby group like any other baby. I had definitely underestimated humans in general, but I had an awesome NCT crew who were always there for me and were not phased in the slightest by Audrey having Down’s syndrome.

Inside I was still constantly surprised by how welcomed we were at baby groups, how it was never a big deal. I emailed ahead to book for baby massage, with a hard lump in my throat I would type “my daughter has Down’s syndrome and is on oxygen” and the reply was warm and… normal. The teacher confirmed my place and in fact I can remember her words along the lines of “this class will be perfect for her…” and once there, she was fawned over like any cute baby.

In the time that Audrey and I spent at music groups and play groups, she was always welcome and more often than not I would be tearful not because it’s all going wrong/people are being cruel, it was because I was emotional about the fact that she was “fitting in”. When I went to a choir for parents (where the grown ups sing pop songs and all sorts while the kids just play), Audrey would often stand at the front and mimic the teacher, where the other kids had absolutely no interest in what the grown ups were singing, Audrey wanted to be involved and she wanted to conduct the choir!

Of course, we’ve had some incidents, but it was less-so staring/nudging/whispering, more straight forward “My friend had one of those, couldn’t talk” or “What’s with the tube on her face?” – the bluntness was laughable. And of course she was (still is) small for her age, so you get a sympathetic head tilt or the question “Was she prem (premature)?” when discussing her age. She wasn’t premature (she was a few days late actually), but I found the confused look that followed that answer so uncomfortable, I would sometimes just say yes, she was premature!

Once she was off oxygen, sitting up and joining in, quite simply the staring, the whispering, the attention: it was all there but not in the way I had dreaded. Audrey was (is!) a superstar. People are drawn to her because she is cute, friendly and funny. She was often a very enthusiastic participant in music groups, clapping, singing, head shaking. She would say hello to anyone, asks people’s names, approach children/babies if they are crying to see if they are ok. I’m more surprised now if people don’t stare, if they’re not interested in her, because she is interesting!

Once she started school, we found a whole new audience. In reception, if we were early and waiting for the gate to open, I would see the nudges… older girls looking at her like a living doll, – they would look like walking heart eye emojis gazing at Audrey. People shouting “Hello Audrey!” when we are out and about and she regularly got presents/pictures/notes in her school bag from her friends at school. She would march into school with enthusiasm each day (often saying “Good morning” to the teachers at the gate) and she would bounce out each afternoon and throw her arms around me. She is exceeding those low expectations I had of her in those early days (based on an outdated view), everyday.

I know that our experience doesn’t cover everyone else’s – we are lucky in that her needs are not as complex as some, but we’ve had our moments. We’ve had to leave noisy parties and take time outs from events – sometimes I’ve felt uncomfortable in those situations, I’ve felt stared at. Just recently she wouldn’t hold my hand in town and I was gripping her by the wrist as she pulled away and got angry with me, I felt very much like the mother of a special needs child, gaining sympathetic eyes or even those stares that seem to say “I could never handle a child like that”. But those occasions are rare and the upside of the whole experience of having a child who is different is the immense joy we take in the little things she excels at and achieves.

I never knew that Audrey would have this quality that makes me want to show her off to as many people as possible. I never expected to feel like I was accompanying a celebrity to the park. Of course now, she is a (albeit low level) celeb as we’ve appeared on the CBeebies show, Our Family. Which has meant a few people have asked if she is in fact the Audrey off CBeebies and I love that typical kids will have watched her and enjoyed her episodes, without a thought given to her being “different” or weird. She’s just another kid featured in Our Family doing fun things.

Audrey is turning nine very soon and I having said she still gets attention, I have noticed that it has quietened down as she’s gotten older. She is less of a living doll now she’s a bit bigger. My thoughts have certainly started to turn to when she’s expected to be independent, but she won’t be.

Game of Buggy Thrones

I need to rant about buggies/strollers/prams and general small-kid mobility. I suspect this will be quite a dull blog post for many, but read on if you fancy hearing about our experience with many buggies…

We went shopping for our first pram when I was pregnant with a baby we knew nothing about (which is how it works for most people). We still joke about when we were approached by a salesperson in Mothercare, offering us options I said “We’re not Bugaboo people”, because I thought £500 was a ludicrous amount to spend on a buggy. As it happens, we did decide to buy a Bugaboo Bee. It remains my favourite buggy to date, because it was light, easy to steer, Audrey was very snug in her cocoon and just as happy when it adapted for her to face the world, it served us well.

Audrey does the splits in a Bugaboo bee buggy
Audrey in her Bugaboo Bee

What’s “funny” (incredibly annoying) about the buggy situation is that we chose one that didn’t have a carrycot option, so if Audrey was asleep in the Bugaboo and I wanted to go home to our first floor flat, I had to carry the entire buggy up a set of external steps, a couple more in the hallway and then a double flight to our flat door. Oh and did I mention I’d had a c-section? And that she had an oxygen tank attached? Ha ha, yeah not that funny. I may have picked an option with a carrycot had I have known Audrey was going to be such a good buggy sleeper… but then again it may have been the cocoon on the Bugaboo Bee that she loved (many of our friends had babies unhappy in carrycots), I guess we’ll never know.

Anyway, Audrey absolutely loved sleeping in her buggy, so it was incredibly frustrating to me that I could rarely sleep when she slept, because I couldn’t get the whole thing into our flat without a lot of heavy-lifting and risk of waking her. But we didn’t know much about baby naps when we made the purchase. We borrowed a Babybjorn sling which was great too and when the time came to return that to my friend (who was having twins), we purchased an Ergo which goes up to age 4.

When I was pregnant with Rex, I bought a secondhand cheap Maclaren stroller to use on “nursery runs”. Because Ted was able to do drop off, I figured he could take Audrey in and I could use the other single with Rex. I also panic bought a double Phil and Ted’s (quite an old model) from a friend, ready for trips out with both of them. So we had three buggies and a sling! We had moved to a house with no steps at the entrance – I was very much looking forward to wheeling my sleeping baby in so I could nap!

Two children sleeping in a double buggy
The dreaded Phil and Ted buggy. I know they are asleep but look how uncomfortable it is!

As it turned out, Rex hated buggies. He would scream and cry and eventually fall asleep but if the buggy stopped then we were screwed, he’d wake up and start crying again. So he was on my body pretty much all the time.

My life was sling and single buggy, but when I attempted the double Phil and Ted’s double I absolutely hated it. The kids heads would bash against unpadded metal bars, the hood was absolutely useless and didn’t cover the child on top, the child below had no cover (other than the kid sitting on top of them), it had a stiff metal foot brake and the steering was terrible. It’s safe to say I was immediately stalking other secondhand buggies on eBay.

We sold the dodgy Phil and Ted double, sold the Bugaboo and bought a secondhand Baby Jogger City Select – a fantastic double (but quite bulky so difficult to get in our small car’s boot). I also bought a (new) Baby Jogger Vue (for buggy training days with Rex whilst Audrey was at nursery) and this left us with 3 buggies in rotation! Ted was beginning to think I was some sort of buggy collector. The Vue was good because it’s like a Maclaren stroller, but can be used from birth with a facing you option.

Two children in a double buggy
The Baby Jogger City Select double

Eventually Rex got used to buggy life and we sold the old Maclaren. We we down to just two buggies (closer to a normal amount of buggies?!), I figured we’d keep this all going until both kids showed more promise of walking further, but unfortunately the double buggy broke (the main frame) and it pushed us to make a decision and try life with a single buggy and buggy board.

Wow this really is a thrilling tale.

We’ve been doing fine without the double, but not great. Usually Audrey is sat in the buggy and Rex is walking or scooting until he gets tired and then he is on the board. If we have the scooter it’s quite a balancing act for me – I feel much like a cart horse as I push them and all our bags etc, the scooter slipping off the buggy frame, usually with someone complaining.

Yesterday morning Rex decided he wanted to sit in the buggy, so Audrey walked for a short while (she can get almost to school, almost!), but she hates the buggy board and so it was stressful convincing him to let her sit for the last bit. I basically forced him onto the board and he cried and whined until we got to school, where he then wanted to walk to preschool whilst I pushed the empty buggy.

It won’t be long until they are both too big for a double buggy anyway, so I have to learn how to get by and in a new twist – we have a special needs buggy coming our way today!

Audrey saw the physiotherapist and occupational therapist last week and in discussing her stamina with walking, we were told that after she turns 6, we cannot apply for a special needs buggy, they would provide a wheelchair! Which is definitely not necessary, so I’m pleased we had that meeting as we were able to apply for and receive a special needs buggy that will be big enough to cover this time and on wards whilst she is a little bit too big for a standard buggy, but clearly not “disabled enough” for a wheelchair.

I was actually prepared to just “muddle through” with a single buggy and a board, but since doing the drop off and pick up this week I am unsure it is going to work. There is no escaping that the board is not for Audrey – she doesn’t have the balance or core strength. It was something Rex loved (novelty value),  but now he is unwilling to be the one who is always relegated to the standing position.

Yesterday he was sat in the buggy and unwilling to give up his seat. Audrey walked for a very short while before complaining and as I stood begging her to give the board a try – just to the end of the road, pleeeease, Rex simply climbed out of the buggy, silently walked around and stood on the board. It was a huge relief that he helped me out for once. We got half way home before he started complaining and he got the seat whilst Audrey walked, all the time whining and saying she wanted to be carried.

I had taken it for granted that they would both simply get used to walking further, but unfortunately a tiring day at school/nursery just doesn’t lead to energy and enthusiasm for walking home. Dare I suggest I panic buy of a double buggy?!? Ted will be over the moon to try out yet another model…!

Pregnant woman and child in a buggy
The easiest way to carry two – one in a buggy, one in the womb!

 

World Down’s Syndrome Day 2019

It’s been a year since my list published on Mother of All Lists and reached a new audience with “our story” for World Down’s Syndrome Day. We’ve also been featured in magazines Best and Take A Break, on blogs like Mental Mutha and Gas & Air. Basically that’s an aim for me – not only to reach someone who needs us (a new mother to a child with Down’s syndrome or someone with a prenatal diagnosis), but also to find those who have no knowledge or connection to Down’s syndrome. To open their eyes and make them think. For them to see that Audrey is a human being with a right to live her life to the fullest.

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You see, on World Down’s Syndrome Day I often feel overwhelmed by the content. Videos, articles, stories, clips, blogs – all devoted to raising awareness of Down’s syndrome. The community is trying to make people aware that this is not a condition we need to eradicate, but it is something we need to learn more about and one we can celebrate not mourn.

I know that we are incredibly lucky with Audrey and her abilities. I also know that had we sat her down in a corner and ignored her (true description from a mother of how her baby with Down’s syndrome was treated at a nursery in the 1960s), she would not be doing so well. She thrives with love, care and attention and with a place in the world among her typical peers and her family.

It pains me to think that someone might receive a prenatal diagnosis of Down’s syndrome, be at a crossroads as to what to do and decide to terminate based on dated information, lack of support or because they aren’t given any other option. Medical professionals and organisations that are there to assist with a prenatal diagnosis can be surprisingly callous or biased when offering up ‘options’, imagine receiving the news that your unborn child has Down’s syndrome and immediately being asked “When would you like to book in your termination?”. I’ve heard stories of women being continually asked “Are you sure you want to continue with this pregnancy?” after they have made their position very clear.

Just to explain for anyone who doesn’t know – babies prenatally diagnosed with Down’s syndrome can be terminated up to TERM. Because the UK Abortion Act 1967, states that there “is no time limit on the term of the pregnancies” when there “is a substantial risk that if the child were born it would suffer from such physical or mental abnormalities as to be seriously handicapped.” “Seriously handicapped” is then not further defined, so this loose term can allow mothers to terminate based on a cleft palate or a missing arm – if you can argue a child will “suffer” due to a disability, you can abort on your due date if you choose to.

I write this from a perspective of someone who believes in a woman’s right to choose – I believe in a woman’s right to have control over her own body and her pregnancy. But also as someone who thinks that it is madness to control the lives that enter this world based on how “perfect” or “imperfect” they might be. Especially when we don’t know how to measure that. What on earth is perfection anyway?

Well I had no idea what true perfection meant until Audrey entered my life.

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Happy World Down’s Syndrome Day 2019!