Alike, But Different.

On Wednesday night I woke around 1am to find myself being sick on and off through until 8am. It goes without saying that Thursday was not a great day for me. Thankfully Ted worked from home and my children offered me plastic cups of “medicine” and gave me hugs and kisses (that I should have fought off due to my potential contagiousness!), they also whined a lot and ran around arguing. Being ill as a grown-up with kids is the worst. The best time to be ill is when you are a kid and a parent looks after you.

Brighton Pride 2018

Anyway, I felt a lot better on Friday and we had a good day with the kids (some top secret modelling, but will share more about that at some point!), we took them to the park in the afternoon and met a lady with a 4 year old son who has special needs. We got chatting and we found ourselves in a position we’ve been in before – struggling to empathise with someone who thinks you can. She sees another “special needs family” and shares her story, but we feel, well, like we occupy a different space; Audrey isn’t “severely” special needs, but she’s not typical either. She sits in a space in between the two. I’m not denying Audrey has special needs, she definitely does and you only have to spend time with other 4-5 year olds to know that she is “different”. However we often find ourselves chatting to someone who is offloading about their child (with some form of special needs) constantly waking in the night, struggling to communicate, challenging behaviour, interacting with other children (hitting, tantrums)… for the most part I can only really apply some of these challenges to Rex!

This lady said she was surprised we had chosen to have another child after our first had special needs! Ha! How we laughed about that one on the way home. All children are hard work and of course, children with special needs present a different set of challenges, but Audrey made us feel very comfortable about doing it all again. Rex, however, well and truly scuppered plans for any more kids!

That evening I was very much looking forward to a decent sleep (as even Thursday night I was restless). As discussed with the lady in the park, Audrey is a good sleeper, but Rex sometimes shouts in his sleep.

Around 2am the dreaded sound of Audrey retching reached my ears – I was out of bed like a shot. There she was, sat upright, sick in her bed and bright and chatty “Sorry Mummy” she said as I wiped up the sick. And after vomiting in the bucket I held for her, “Phew! That’s a lot of sick!” She said, brushing her hair back.

She literally couldn’t get any better. After returning to bed and several more leaps back out to her aid with the bucket, I decided it would make more sense for Audrey and I to sleep in the spare bedroom together. So I scooped her up and laid next to her in the double bed, bucket at the ready.

As soon as I laid in the dark with her, I felt around to find her face and gently stroke it. She did exactly the same and stroked my face. She whispered that we were in “Uncle Graeme’s bed” (because he stayed in our spare room for a week during his chemo this year). She has a snotty nose at the moment, so within minutes she was asleep but snoring like, well, like her Uncle Graeme. I realised that I was really going to struggle to sleep, but do you know what? I strangely didn’t care. I could smell her sicky breath, but I could also feel her warm body right next to me and I felt so lucky to be her mummy. To be her protector.

In the morning I was awoken by many things (Audrey’s feet kicking me, the light coming through the half-closed blind, Rex thrashing about in his cot), but it was magical to wake to the sound of Rex saying “I want Audrey back!”.

Person-First Language is Important

I’m writing this to elaborate on a quick post I did on Instagram explaining/reiterating (I’m sure I’ve said it before) that Audrey is Audrey first; a child with Down’s syndrome second. So she is never a “Down’s kid” she isn’t a “Down’s syndrome girl” she is a child who happens to have Down’s syndrome. My little Instagram rant stemmed from the following…

I arrived for the open evening at Audrey’s school on a sunny summer’s evening, listening to Desert Island Discs, feeling excited about my little girl’s future in mainstream school.

I joined a queue to buy school uniform, chatted to some mums I had met before and gleaned information from these pros (with kids already attending the school) on what to expect.

I sat down clutching the welcome pack with Audrey’s name and class on the front and by chance sat behind the mother of one of Audrey’s nursery friends – (I could see the name and class on her welcome pack) and I could see they were in the same class. Everything was falling into place.

The teachers spoke at the front of the assembly hall and took us through the basics; uniform, PTA, after school club, forest school (so on trend). And then we all got up and filed into our specific classrooms to mingle and meet our child’s future teacher.

For some strange reason, I was quite focused on meeting Audrey’s teacher, but the thought of her 1:1 had barely crossed my mind… at least I thought it hadn’t, but I realise now I had already pictured her – in her 20s, enthusiastic, dedicated to children with special needs, passionate about it, a Makaton pro, a bit quirky.

So I guess it was a surprise to meet the lady who was older and not physically the picture I had in my head. And then, as surprisingly as she’d appeared; she made a bad impression. I asked about her experience and she told me how she had been working with a “Down’s boy” at the school and then she’d been at a special school a few miles away which had “loads of Down’s kids”. Outside I was smiling and nodding, inside I was crushed. How could this be someone passionate about people with Down’s syndrome? She doesn’t even know how to speak to me without offending me! She doesn’t understand person-first language. How can this person be the chosen 1:1 for Audrey? It made no sense.

I was awkward and made some comments about regretting not preparing with questions and I moved to the queue to meet the teacher.

The 1:1 popped up again, asking me about Makaton signing and why Audrey’s nursery had corrected her (she showed me the sign, I corrected her too). Such a minor “hiccup” you might think, but at this point I was getting anxious inside, imagining Audrey bonding with a woman who was seemingly getting everything wrong.

The thing is, people get person-first language wrong all the time and most of the time it doesn’t bother me that much. I don’t like to be pedantic (ok, I kind of do) but hey, I was made that way… in the same way that a cafe might list “sandwich’s” for sale and I will despair (but not run in asking them to correct the laminated menu), I despair a little over someone saying “a Down’s kid” but rarely take the time to correct them.

However. This was meeting a professional in a school. Someone who has clearly worked with children with Down’s syndrome for years and someone who has been employed to spend a lot of time with my daughter. So in this scenario, I should have said something, but because awkward conversations are not my thing, I ranted at other mums, had a rough night’s sleep, ranted a bit more to friends the next day and finally sent an email to the Head of Inclusion at the school to explain what happened.

What really gave me the confidence to write to the school, was the support I had from mum friends (those with typical children), who agreed this language was not on. They made me feel like I wasn’t over reacting.

This all happened last week and having had some time to calm myself and reflect, I had a meeting at the school this morning and I’m pleased to say I feel reassured that this was an unfortunate mistake and that they (the school) are more than versed in the correct language and will be ensuring all the teaching assistant are reminded of the correct terminology.

It was also helpful to hear that the 1:1 had come to the open evening off her own back because was excited to meet me, because she is excited to be Audrey’s teaching assistant. I can step back now and know that she does care, she will learn from this and that this bad experience can help the school, parents and teaching assistants learn something moving forward.

In fact I’m already discussing with another mum from the T21 crew (who was my immediate “What would she have done?” thought when I was faced with the dodgy language) a way of using this experience to create a “going to school pack” that can help schools and families learn from this dodgy experience.

Hopefully no one is reading this wondering what all the fuss is about, but if you are, then please just know that words are important. Audrey is so very precious to me and I want her to have the best start at school as she can possibly have and this begins and ends with her being treated as an individual.

(Belated) World Down’s Syndrome Day 2018

I always think this day comes around so quickly and that here I am again (eye roll) talking about World Down’s Syndrome Day… but then I realise that every day is #WDSD for me. So for those of you not regularly “exposed”, let’s learn a few things. Firstly, it’s 21st March and I didn’t finish this post in time (forgive me).

This year I threw myself in a little bit more than usual- we were in a printed magazine!

A piece came out in Take a Break:

This came about from The Specials “If I could go back…” video we took part in, (writing a letter to myself to talk about what I wish I had known when Audrey was born).

I also submitted a list to Mother of All Lists. An honest “Instamum” I am a fan of. I actually found it quite hard to write as I found myself getting quite ‘ranty’ (aka passionate?) when talking about DS. However once it was out there I had such a fantastic response, I was really pleased to have done it. It’s scary exposing your personal story (especially one that touches on Down’s syndrome screening and abortion), but it was a great way to reach an audience of mums who might otherwise have no knowledge of where society is with screening for DS or that humans like Audrey exist; being fabulous.

We had a party the weekend ahead of WDSD with Brighton and Hove families. Soft play, a disco, party food, music man, a raffle… great fun but exhausting. At the party a child was using Audrey as a step-up (climbing on her!!) and Rex threw himself in the way saying “That’s Audrey!”. I mean, he would happily climb on her himself, but he will also defend and protect her when needed! So lovely.

Audrey’s next EHCP meeting was looming, school in September seems close and scary. She’s seen an episode of Topsy and Tim and seems to think she’ll get a bike and a helmet to go to school with! She cracks me up. Once we had the meeting however, I felt so much better about it all. The SENCO was lovely and it felt… doable. I could imagine her at a mainstream school and not start to feel sick!

We are doing our monthly table tennis sessions thanks to our local T21 group (Trisomy 21 is the medical name for Down’s Syndrome) and loving it. Naturally the kids don’t really play table tennis, but they have a good runaround in a community space and it’s an inspiring place to be (given that they have 3 coaches with DS there – the only 3 qualified sports coaches in the world with DS!).

I’m always full to the brim with things to say about Audrey, about Down’s Syndrome, although I feel I’ve neglected the blog a little lately (which I’ll try to rectify!), but just know that this little human of ours is doing really well and we #wouldntchangeathing

Stuff! And Things!

Hello! Yet again real life and raising children somewhat takes over from blogging. So here’s another quick update on anything and everything I can think of.

They both had haircuts and behaved so well:

The other week Audrey was feeling poorly with a high temperature, laying on the sofa under a leopard print blanket. I came down having got dressed and she said “Mummy, you’re the same as the blanket!” I was initially confused, I explained I was wearing a cardigan, not a blanket… when I realised my t shirt was leopard print! How proud I am of Audrey and these simple moments.

The winter has already meant a steady stream of germs, but there is no escaping it when they both go to nursery and we spend our lives at play groups and music groups with dirty toys.

Audrey’s current favourite song is ‘Hocus Pocus’ by Focus. It’s worth noting as we’ve been through various favourites;

‘Black Magic’ by Little Mix

‘Ice Ice Baby’ by Vanilla Ice

‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber

‘We Built this City’ by Starship

They both currently respond well to Hot Chip.

We watch ‘Trolls’ at least three times a week, but just a month ago it was ‘Moana’ a go go, so who knows what they’ll be onto next?

Rex is currently obsessed by cars, lorries and fire engines. Audrey is very keen on books and dolls. They both love handbags.

I am starting to appreciate them both more and more. Just looking and listening and seeing how wonderful they are. This is when they are not fighting over a toy or throwing a tantrum over something incredibly minor.

They both love Christmas (the build up) so far and I’m excited to enjoy it with them.

Audrey was recently a poster girl for a local charity (Amaze), which we were thrilled to see.

Will try not to leave it too long before my next blog post, we have a lot going on (Down’s Syndrome Awareness wise and in general).

If I Could Go Back…

It’s Down Syndrome Awareness Month (predominantly in the US, but happy to embrace it as I always do), so what better time to direct you to a short film I had the pleasure of contributing to.

I have mentioned The Specials before (an online series that also aired on OWN in the US), they have been a fabulous, fun part of our journey with Down’s Syndrome.

I used to work for a company that sold documentaries internationally and we represented The Specials before I was pregnant with Audrey.

It was quite a moment for me, when, back at work visiting colleagues with my small baby, I bumped into Katy (producer of The Specials) and for the first time, I felt excited to tell someone that my baby had Down’s Syndrome! I knew that she would get it.

Anyway, the company I worked for went into liquidation, time passed, but I thankfully remained in touch with Katy because she’s just one of those lovely-type-people you stay in touch with.

She asked if we (my family and I) might be interested in being filmed for some content for The Specials website. They were interested in representing a different part of the Down’s Syndrome journey – the early part with a little one like Audrey.

Of course I said yes, I am always thrilled at the prospect of showing off Audrey and reaching people with our story – showing what life is like.

Katy started filming us the summer Audrey turned 2 and continued into the winter when I was heavily pregnant with Rex.

I’m pleased to be able to share with you a short film that came from some of that filming: a project called “If I Could Go Back…” that has given a voice to a variety of parents of children with Down’s Syndrome, explaining what those early days are like and what we’d like to say to ourselves if we could go back…

Click here to view on YouTube

It’s a perfect film to share during Down’s Syndrome Awareness Month and one that I hope will be useful to new mothers, fathers, grandparents… basically anyone who fears what it might be like to have a child with Down’s Syndrome in their life. What we thought “then” and what we know “now” = just wow. I could literally talk all day about what I thought it would be like to have a child with Down’s Syndrome and what it is actually like.

Audrey makes me so happy, so proud and she continues to surprise me every day with what she is learning and has achieved. So different to the fear in my heart that moment I first looked at her face.

More links to come no doubt, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one, it’s certainly emotive!

Special needs 

Gemma Mount Photography

Most of the time I'm a mum. But sometimes I'm the mum of a special needs child. It's actually quite rare that I'm fully aware that Audrey has special needs. It doesn't impact our day to day life as much as you might think.

I recognise that she needs more help than her typical peers when it comes to various things (eating, navigating obstacles, potty training…), but I guess I'm just used to her progressing slowly and she just seems a bit younger. I don't really think of her as "special needs" child. 

Most of the time I want people to look at her. She's beautiful, funny and friendly, so I like to show her off. But every now and then…

Audrey and I went to a mum event last month. Run by MumstheWordOnline, it was a talk and book signing with Clemmie Hooper, the midwife, mother and blogger who is "instafamous".  I set off with Audrey in the sling, both giggly and excited by our alone time. Stopping to look at pretty flowers before we caught our bus to town. It's rare I can travel on a bus and sit Audrey next to me – sat up high so we can talk about what we can see out of the window. These are the parenting moments you drink in. Those perfect moments of excitement and happiness over the simplest things.

We met our friends Louise and Harry and walked to the hotel venue. Audrey was snuggled into me and I could tell she was a bit sleepy. 

We collected our name badges and then entered the room. It was then that I realised bringing Audrey was a mistake (bringing Rex would have also been a mistake but for slightly different reasons, but I digress!). The mum chat volume was high. The room was crowded and chaotic, it was warm and everyone was moving around in limited space to chat and get coffee. Audrey was instantly asking to go home. 

I thought that once we sat down to listen to Clemmie speak, Audrey might be content on my lap, but it soon became clear that wouldn't work – they had a PA system and Audrey covered her ears and said it was too loud. She started to cry. More than anything at that point, I felt so terrible having put her in this position. We moved to the play area but she didn't want to play with any toys, she just wanted to go home.

At the very back there was a room for buggies. This was furthest away from the noise, Audrey was much calmer in this room, but basically wanted to leave via the fire exit because she could see the street. After a bit of back and forth, I realised it would be easily solved if we left. A brief freak-out (on her part, obv!) as we left through the main noisy room and then we were in the hotel lobby; she was immediately fine. We popped into the large toilet right there and Audrey said "Phew!" And was back to her usual happy self. We left and she was all waves and smiles to the hotel reception staff.

We went to the library, then onto a cafe for lunch, Louise and Harry joined us, calm was restored. Lou tried to make me feel better by informing me Harry also asked to leave and handed her her handbag(!), but the fact remains he wasn't emotional, he wasn't stressed, just bored.

However it's moments when she's upset that I feel like a special needs parent. I feel eyes on me, I worry about pity, I think people see our life as hard. I feel like they see Audrey as difficult, as a burden and I hate that.

I accept that she is different. Our life will be different. But I hate the thought of anyone seeing a fleeting moment of stress as "the way things are".

These past few weeks have been tough. Not because Audrey has Down's Syndrome but because both my children have hit hideous phases of tantrums and tears and er, "wilfulness"! Two under 3 has been tough and despite the fact that Audrey is now 4, it's still very tough. The fact is, most of the time Rex is the main cause of stress, but he is typical and no one would bat an eyelid to his tantrums. Maybe no one bats an eyelid to Audrey's, but that's not how it feels when you are a special needs parent.

Calm restored in a fancy toilet.

Friends and Family

I’ve read blog posts where mummies (of children with DS) have said “you certainly learn who your friends are” (after a Down’s Syndrome diagnosis), so I just wanted to write a post in praise of our friends (and family).

Because we certainly learned who our friends were… and they were exactly who we thought they were. 

Lots of worries flashed through my mind in those first weeks of Audrey’s life. And one of those worries was that some people may not want to see us anymore, because our child had been born with special needs. I feel like an idiot as I type that now, but at the time it was something I genuinely  thought. I worried people would feel awkward having to say she’s cute (when really they would be looking at a face that just screamed Down Syndrome and therefore ugly) and that they wouldn’t be that interested in visiting her. 

Shall I enlighten you as to how our friends reacted?

Well, let’s see… EVERYONE wanted to see her. They were all interested and positive and supportive and… I suspect exactly as friends are when any baby was born, but it felt like they were extra in love, extra supportive.

Maybe this is just how people are when a baby is born (I have no comparison to a “typical” baby), but with Audrey it was like we had made a little celebrity. Friends went out of their way to shower her with love.
Of course it is an unwritten rule that when you see someone’s baby you have to say they are beautiful or cute or some positive adjective, even if the baby looks like a wrinkled old man or yoda. But you don’t have to say you love them. I didn’t expect other people to love my baby, but they did. They loved her. And they were wonderful at showing it and saying it. Not just through gifts of clothes or toys (although we were well and truly showered), but through visits, texts, emails, gifts of food (for us), lots of help, support and lots of gushing about Audrey. Over compensating? It didn’t feel like that. Honestly.

And as she’s grown, people haven’t shyed away or avoided contact, they’ve thrown their arms open to give the B-W family (but mostly Audrey), a massive hug. 

Why on earth did I expect any different? 

Ted are I are both blessed with an excellent bunch of school mates who still make an effort to hang out, as well as lots of cool university friends, Brighton friends, work friends and now NCT (antenatal class) friends, all of whom have been great. 

I have so many positive friend moments that play through my mind… Becs coming with me to hold may hand through the scan that discovered Audrey wanted to get out, the tearful hushed conversation with my brother as I explained why we had struggled to confirm her name, the dreaded tearful phone calls to Claire and Mary the morning after she was born, which were met with declarations of instant love. Unconditional love. Katie and Claire standing with me when the doctor confirmed Audrey’s heart was fine and the tears flowed again… I’ll stop there as I can’t name check everyone and I don’t want anyone to feel left out!

The unconditional love is the key. No one was planning to love her only if she was cute. Or only if she could walk at 12 months. Or grow up to be a genius. 

They love Audrey because she is a little piece of us, their friends. Oh and she’s awesome.

Here’s a little dig through the archives for Audrey pictures with friends and family…



When Audrey was a newborn, I read other parents’ accounts of having a child with Down Syndrome and, well, I thought in some cases they were lying. Or at least kidding themselves by piling on the positivity.

“Our child is a blessing” or “we wouldn’t change anything about our child” or “he/she is simply perfect”. I thought come on, you would change the Down Syndrome! And you know they’re not perfect!

But guess what? They were just further down the path than us and now I know what they know, I’m all over this positivity and “blessedness”!

But let me be clear, Audrey isn’t a blessing to us because she has DS, she just plain and simple is a blessing. She’s our daughter, we made her and ok, something “different” happened in the making and she got an extra chromosome, but that’s just part of Audrey.

When I look at her, I am overwhelmed by how much I love her and how perfect she is for us, for our family. I genuinely wouldn’t change her. Yes, I want to wipe out health issues, prejudices, difficulties… But if we took away the DS, she wouldn’t be the same baby and we love this baby, just the way she is. She’s perfect. And yes, I know that really there is no such thing as perfect… In fact, as I said, when I read other families call their child with DS “perfect”, I felt a twinge, an uncomfortable stab… Thinking, c’mon, how can you use the word perfect?!?

But I get it now. How can anyone? What is perfection? Does it even exist?

Audrey isn’t really perfect. She had terrible reflux and used to puke all over us. Sometimes she gives wonderful long kisses; covering us in snot. Sometimes she wakes up at 5am. She pulls my hair. She dribbles a lot. She has rough patches on her thumbs from over-sucking.

But she is amazing. She fits into our family and brings us so much happiness. We are deeply in love with her and wouldn’t change her for the world.

So there. Gushy positive Down’s Syndrome family believes they are blessed. Because they are.



The elephant in the room

So here’s a question for you, do you tell people your baby/child has Down’s Syndrome (obviously you don’t if they don’t have DS!)?

It’s certainly not my opening line when meeting new people, but I do tend to casually throw it in there just to clear the air and acknowledge the obvious.

Even though Audrey looks less and less “downsie” (our choice of phrase, one used to be cute, not offensive) to me everyday, I do know that she has the characteristics and strangers will either clock this and know, or at least wonder.

We actually do sometimes start to think it’s not obvious, but then we look at other babies with DS and she is quite clearly in their crew. It’s funny because it means we often look on other babies with extra “ahhhs” because they look like our baby.

Our first experience of a stranger actually acknowledging Audrey’s DS before we’d said anything was a barmaid (early 20s?) in a pub we were celebrating my Nan’s 95th birthday in. She just said “Down’s Syndrome babies are extra cute aren’t they?” And to be honest I felt a little surprised for a second (only because I hadn’t heard anyone just come our and say it like that) but I just smiled, said yes and moved on. But it did feel strange. Oh so they can see it…!

Another time, we were at a friends’ BBQ where lots of families we didn’t know were milling about. A child of around 6 was playing near Audrey and asked me why her tongue was sticking out. I just said she was dribbly and teething and it was just something she does. But at the time I had a little moment where I realised I was so used to Audrey’s tongue sticking out, it hadn’t occurred to me that this might be ‘something different’ about her that others would notice.

One of many strange worries I had in the early days, was of someone recognising her DS and saying something very unpleasant. Perhaps asking me if she was ‘retarded’ or a ‘mong’, neither of which have cropped up at this early stage. As time went on, I did start to chastise myself (“What decade did you think we are living in?!?”), but actually had a mum of a 3 year old boy with DS confirm someone did once ask if he was a ‘mongoloid’. I was stunned, but she said it was a very old lady and she was actually very nice, she just used a dated word and meant no offence.

In our short 15 months in this world, we haven’t had a lot of negativity to deal with. In the early days, there were some people who struggled with what to say and made some comments that were… Awkward… But mostly well-meaning and not nasty. People just saying how ‘devastated’ we must be or how ‘awful’ the news was… Which, once you’ve moved on and embraced the baby you’ve been given, is not they way to describe the happy event of having a baby.

My uncle also had a classic line… When we were discussing sleep and night feeds (which every one is obsessed with when making baby small talk), I referred to our NCT group and said we were lucky as some of the babies were waking a lot more than Audrey… To which he said (somehow thinking I was taking about a group of babies with DS and that some of them were ‘worse'(?) than Audrey); “Oh yes, some of them can be very disabled, can’t they?”. Yeesh.

In fact that was probably the main crux of any early negativity – misunderstanding that 90% of the time I was entering into a discussion about babies in general, not specifically babies with DS. Telling my mum we had started baby sign; “But she’s not deaf, I know some of them can be, but you can tell she can hear”. Cue discussion about baby sign being useful for all babies.

Mostly I worry that it my own insecurities/defensiveness that makes me read innocent comments as negative. When people ask about the possibility of us having baby number 2, I always feel as though they are surprised when we say we do want more children or I feel the question is worded as “So do you think you’ll have any more children?” and the end of the sentence (that is unspoken) is “…after what you’ve been through with this one?”. Yes, I’m reading into this too much!

One of the strangest places to encounter negativity (which was really just someone being honest, but made me uncomfortable), surprisingly came from another DS mama. I was at our pre-school DS group when Audrey was probably only around 5 months old and I was keen to meet a lady who had chosen a nursery near us for her little boy with DS and I wanted to know what the nursery was like etc. She came to the group with her new baby boy (without DS) as her oldest was at nursery that day.

She told me I was lucky Audrey kept her tongue in her mouth (things have changed a bit since then!), because the tongue hanging out “did not look good”. And then she told me how they had the amniocentesis for their second child as they “definitely didn’t want another child with DS”. Hmmm, I think I said nothing at that point. I asked about the nursery and she said they picked it because they had lived on the same street… so that wasn’t the glowing reference for the place I was hoping for. I haven’t actually seen her since, but it was certainly interesting meeting someone who felt that having a child with DS meant they had to take screening that bit further to ensure they didn’t have another. Ted and I have said that if we are lucky enough to have another baby, it’s probably not worth bothering with the screening as what difference would it make? We wouldn’t abort and although a bit of warning might help us prepare, we had no warning with Audrey and that turned out fine! Ha, well, better than fine – awesome!


Spread a message with more ups than downs..?

Hayley from Downs Side Up shared this article on Facebook;

It’s a piece by David M Perry and it’s about raising awareness of Down’s Syndrome through cute pictures and how that does little to dispel the “they’re such happy people” myth and also fails to help raise awareness of some of the real challenges people with DS face.

Ok, so I couldn’t stop thinking about this article because I am 100% a spreader of this “cuteness porn”, but I have no desire to spread a message of sunshine, lollipops and rainbows… In fact my mother actually bought a t-shirt for Audrey when she was first born that said “Smile and be happy” on it and I absolutely lost the plot (hormones!) and made her take it back. I couldn’t think of anything worse for any child to wear (mega cheesy), but even more against it for Audrey – she’s not a poster girl for a constant cheerful disposition!

The thing is, what I think new-mums are looking for, and what I know I was/am looking for, is “inspiration porn”. All I wanted to see (and mostly still do) is that children with DS functioned happily in ‘normal’ families. Actually, no, better than that; I want to see glamorous families! Trendy families! Rock n roll!

I appreciate that it is important to spread a message to the world that people with DS are complex and emotional, that they have sad days, bad times, struggles… but that’s not necessarily the best starting point for awareness.

The leaflet I was passed when Audrey was born had that piece about Holland in it (which was actually lovely) and a lot of overwhelming health issue stuff that I just didn’t want to think about. I still don’t.

Awareness needs to be spread to;

New mums and dads
Prospective mums and dads
Parents of children your kid will go to school with
That person you pass on the street
Ok, basically everyone.

They need to know that someone with DS is loved by a family of ‘typical’ people and that they aren’t scary or ugly… That they aren’t an alien race of beings… They are human and they fit into families of all shapes and sizes and do ‘normal’ things. They need to feel comfortable around someone with DS and this should lead to better job opportunities, inclusion and understanding.

Personally I don’t think the cuteness factor takes away from the bigger issues… It can be used as a tool to lure people in to find out more, surely? Every mum I follow on Instagram will have lured me in with a cute baby video or picture, but that’s just one part of their story and soon I’m following them through operations, sleep studies, second babies, sleepless nights, developmental milestones… We all share in the frustrations and the achievements, the ups and the downs. I know I’m seeking this stuff out, but anyone could be struck by a cute image or video and end up finding out more.

Macy Makes My Day (check them out on Instagram), is about a little girl with DS and her family… I found this account after a friend told me about this amazing inspirational family and what a cool account it was (the friend had no connection to the DS community, but was following Macy’s story). After following Macy, I found the DS hashtags that led me to countless blogs and IG accounts, all of which have taught me a lot about Down’s Syndrome, the good stuff and the bad.

Phew. I feel a bit better now I’ve got that off my chest.

Please excuse me whilst I spread some more cuteness for #DSAM2014