Day 11: Little Miss Independent

Oh, how bittersweet it is...

One of the things I (and I'm sure I'm not alone in this...) worried about when Samantha was born and we received her diagnosis of Down syndrome, was whether or not my child would ever grow up to be independent. Independence is such a grown-up concept, one that "typical" children start to assert and seek pretty early on, pushing harder as the teen years progress into adulthood. And then there comes the time when the young adult, suddenly realizing that they have a pretty good deal, living in their parent's basement, gets pushed out of the nest and forced into independence by parents, who have had enough.

I pictured a slack-jawed, blank-faced woman-child, holding my hand, shuffling just a little bit behind me, completely uninterested in our surroundings. I knew that independence was a myth, a distant dream, an impossibility.

Sure, my ignorance about Trisomy 21 gave way to every stereotype there ever was. And then I began to learn that those distant dreams may not be so distant after all.

I could go through all of the reasons why and how I figured out just how wrong I was, but here's a shining new example, a brilliant, beautiful, yet heartbreaking moment that showed me just what my little girl is made of.

She wanted to walk to school by herself.

Last Thursday, the moment we turned the corner and hit the sidewalk in front of the school, Sammi wanted nothing more to do with me. Not. A. Thing. She told me, in no uncertain terms, to stay put, stop walking, she would do it "all by myself!" I shadowed her along the walk, through the entrance, down the hall, keeping back far enough to satisfy her, as she oozed confidence and maturity, slipping into the sea of other students, one amongst many within the tide as they all pushed towards their classrooms when the first bell rang. Hovering outside her classroom door, I peeked in, unseen by her, and watched her take off her backpack, remove her folder from inside, and place it on the pile for the teacher. She caught a glimpse of me, but carried on, and, after letting one of her teachers know, I turned and walked home, a little sad, but still very proud.

I knew it would not be an isolated incident, knew the very next morning that she would not be limiting her independence to the sidewalk in front of the school, was prepared for what was to come next. The very next morning, the walk on her own began at our doorstep.

"Stop walking, Mommy! Wait your turn! I going to school all by myself!" Yep, that's what I got if she caught me tailing her. She didn't mind that I was behind her, she just didn't want to see me moving.

I have to say, though, that she walked an awful lot faster when she was on her own, much less distracted, so much more purposeful, confident, strong, independent. 

And it was awesome.