Falling hard after my NDSC high.

We're home after our awesome weekend in Washington DC at the NDSC convention. As always, I'll be posting about the sessions I went to and things I learned. So stay tuned for that.

For anyone who wasn't following last year, these are the posts I did about last years convention in San Antonio, TX:

The Alamo
Deep in the Heart of Texas
What I would have said (meeting Monica and David)

At the closing ceremony, the self advocates and brothers and sisters group were called up to dance and sing to the song "Firework".

Ending ceremony

 It was a perfect way to wrap up the week. Afterwards, we walked a few blocks down the street to the zoo.

But the mood of the weekend had already changed.

Throughout the weekend, you couldn't turn around without seeing someone with Down syndrome. Even when we walked down the street to the McDonald's or Chipotle, Kamdyn was not the only person with Down syndrome. Becca said it perfectly on Facebook the other day, when she posted that the ratio was more like 1 in 5, as opposed to the usual 1 in 691. There really is nothing like it. And I love it.

By the time we made it back to the hotel after our zoo visit, the atmosphere had changed, the NDSC posters were down, and that ratio was back to normal. We walked by a lady who was standing at a table for one of the conventions that moved in. When the lady saw Kamdyn, she leaned down, smiled, and said, "Oh, she's so cute!" looking at me. I smiled and said, "thank you." As I walked away, I heard the lady say to the man she was standing with, "They are just so cute." Of course THEY are, right? Just like THEY are so happy. THEY are all sweet. They, they, they. I know none of this is really a big deal. It's not that anything mean or offensive was said. It's just back to reality, where Kamdyn is different. Back to reality where Kamdyn is a Down's kid. Back to reality where expectations are low, pity is high, and people make fun.

I was struck with how profound this experience is.  As a parent of a child with Down syndrome, you may not always be friends with everyone you meet, but you can't deny that there is a community there, a family, of sorts.  These people get it. Different races, etnicities, backgrounds, areas of the country, we understand.  I think of Sue Buckley, who has dedicated the last 30 years of her life to developing literacy programs for people with Down syndrome THAT WORK, when her own daugther with Down syndrome is not able to read.  Why would you do that?  Because there is a common goal.  We want what it best for our children, what is best for all people with Down syndrome.  And no matter what abilities our children have, we understand their value.  We know that they are loved, and they love, and they are valuable just by being them.  So when I stepped out of that bubble..................

Tim, owner of Tim's Place adding to his hug counter.

.......................I immediately felt depressed. I stayed pretty quiet, until Brad accused me of being cranky, and I explained to him that I was bummed, and then broke down for a few seconds. In a way, it feels stupid, because I had such an awesome weekend. I smiled constantly. I learned a TON. We had a blast. But here I am. In the past, I haven't posted emotional things until I've worked through it, but I figured I'd go ahead and write while it's raw.  And writing helps.  Letting it go helps.

And despite the fact that at this moment, I feel on the verge of tears, I feel peace in the face of my little girl.  My fear or sadness is no longer about who she will become, because I know she is amazing. 

The exhibit hall.................

home to displays, such as IDSC for Life.

For a little less dark and twisty and little more sunshine, head over to My Stubborn Little Miss and look for a subdued, thumb sucking Kamdyn.

I'll be back soon with a little more sunshine, and hopefully a post about some beautiful people with Down syndrome.