Because I worried about EVERYTHING when I was pregnant, I spent some time worrying about whether the baby I was carrying had Down Syndrome. Here’s what the universe showed me during the height of that worry:
A teenaged-girl with Down Syndrome in the Bargain Nook in Spring Green saying, with pitch-perfect aggrieved teen inflection, “Mo-om, no, I’m not wearing that.”
Then, waiting at the stoplight on Midvale & University in Madison, I watched a very self-important BUSY BUSY BUSY businessman walk hurriedly, head down, across the street. About 20 paces behind him was a man with Down Syndrome, carrying his backpack in this right hand, swinging it, at exactly the same pace the businessman was swinging his briefcase, and mimicking the pace and stride of Mr. Busy Guy absolutely perfectly. The biggest difference was wardrobe–suit vs. khakis & t-shirt. And facial expression: SCOWL vs. beaming.
I didn’t stop worrying about everything, but at that moment, I stopped worrying about Down Syndrome. And since then, I’ve watched the children of friends blossom and grow at their own wonderful pace, and I feel so lucky that the universe cracked itself open and expanded in a way I could GET IT and never forget it.