My daughter takes a seat in the dark beautician’s chair. She looks down as the black cape is secured around her neck. The hairdresser asks, “What do you want done to your hair today?”
My daughter smiles in the mirror as she listens to the beautician, but doesn’t answer. For the past few days, I had been asking her what she wanted through a series of yes/no questions. Her brother helped with the questioning as well to confirm that she wanted to keep her hair long.
After I convey the information to the beautician, my daughter walks over to the shampoo bowl. She lays her head back and enjoys a shampoo and scalp massage like anyone else. Afterwards, she sits through the next phases of her haircut and style without a problem.
In a chair a few feet away, I sit and watch my daughter with Down syndrome during the whole process. Her finished product of two beautiful braids makes both of us smile. This scene made me reflect back to a time in her childhood.
Image from @awcreativeut on Unsplash
For several years, haircuts were a challenge. It was like a race for the beautician. The professional would cut as fast as possible before my daughter decided she was done. My sweet girl would rip off the cape and try to vacate the chair or cry. Haircuts scared her. She also had no patience for them. The whole thing was exhausting for the both of us.
After some haircuts, we both retreated to my vehicle wiping our cheeks wet from tears. I asked myself questions such as: When are things going to be easier? When are we going to have a breakthrough in this area? When is this going to be a happy experience?
Eventually, she could tolerate more time with the help of distractions (music) and by simply gaining understanding with age.
My daughter has changed so much in this area during her 18 years of life. It’s progress, and it’s a small thing that I appreciate as her mother now. During those years when it didn’t go well, they were hard.
Haircuts haven’t been the only area of growth. I recall being completely anxious every time I left the house with my daughter alone as she would run off and not respond to my pleas to stop. The running off and the anxiousness eventually stopped, but life was hard until then.
A host of behaviors, situations, and skills have occurred like these over the years. I couldn’t help but wonder when things would improve. The ‘when’ questions poured out of me in desperation.
Like so many other situations, things were bad, but then they improved. As a parent, I would dream of a time when things would change for the better. Eventually, that dream day would come, and life would feel so good.
Past successes are something I need to be reminded of from time to time. Despite the gains that have come to my daughter, there are still things I find myself anxiously awaiting the day for improvement. I get frustrated at times with a lack of progress in an area, and I find myself asking those same old “when” questions. They don’t do much good because the time when things are mastered cannot be predicted. But I suppose asking “when” does show hope.
I do have hope that things will continue to improve. It is that hope that keeps me going. When an issue comes up with my daughter, the hope helps me believe that things will not always be so frustrating. An area of life will someday be better for my daughter. The question of ‘when’ will be answered, and there will be another celebration. Life will feel good. I will appreciate all that my daughter has learned.
Evana is a wife and mother of two children. She is a pediatric speech-language pathologist and serves children with autism, feeding disorders, and other developmental delays. You can connect with Evana on Twitter, Facebook, and her blog, A Special Purposed Life. You can also read more about her family’s story in her book, Badges of Motherhood: One Mother’s Story about Family, Down syndrome, Hospitals, and Faith.
