Downs With Ups

Hi dear Reader. Before you continue, I must caution that some of this post covers the maturation of adolescent girls, which includes the ‘P’ word, (no, not ‘puberty’, but ‘period’).

This post is dedicated to my partner, who although mentioned occasionally in my blog, is always there for ‘his giddy girls’, (which includes, not just Poppet and I, but the cat and two guinea pigs).

I heard him talking to Poppet as she got herself ready for school this morning and it became apparent to me just how tricky it has been for him, as Poppet has matured.

“Oh, you need to have a shower this morning, so you’d better hurry up. Do you still have your period?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“Well then don’t forget to put a pad on.”

It occurred to me that this man has had to take a front row seat to the hormonal pantomime of his daughter’s puberty. This past year in particular has seen him on a sharp learning curve, as his daughter began menstruating. I’ve had to learn on the fly too, but obviously had my own experiences upon which to draw. My partner however, has simply been a third party to periods and so hasn’t been privy to some of the more practical issues when dealing with them.

“How do you er, dry yourself, ‘down there’ when you have your period? I mean the towel would get blood on it, wouldn’t it?” He asked me once. Another time, puzzling over the wide range of ‘feminine hygiene products’, he asked me “What size pads should Poppet wear during the day?”

My wonderful partner has taken the maturation of his special daughter in his stride, maintaining an open and matter-of-fact manner and a gritty determination to also help Poppet learn about the changes to her body.

I imagine, whilst some fathers of regular girls would take an interest in their daughter’s development, they might choose to be ‘hands off’ when it comes to the more practical aspects of puberty. Fathers of daughters with Down syndrome however, if they’re at all involved in their care, need to be much more hands on than they’d otherwise be expected and certainly much more than society would expect.

As an example, my partner and Poppet have been going swimming most Sunday mornings for the past five years. Due to Poppet’s low muscle tone, she always needs help with the taps in the showers and due to her cognitive delays, has spent a majority of these years learning how to shower and dress herself. Her dad has had to go into the shower room with her. This would be seen as quite acceptable for a girl who is seven, but eyebrows might be raised if the girl is 13. (This is why disabled showers and toilets are critical in such places.)  My partner is always discreet and encourages Poppet to be aware of her modesty, making sure the boundaries are clear.

My modus operandi has been to sprinkle information about puberty into every day life over the past few years, in the hope it would prepare Poppet. “You’ll need to wear a bra too, one day,” I’d say or, whenever appropriate, talk about the difference between girls and boys. In the later years of primary school, ‘life education’ sessions were offered to parents and their children. This was a great way to kick-start any discussion we had, about the changes Poppet was experiencing, and it gave her an opportunity to ask questions.

I also bought a book called, ‘Puberty and Special Girls’, by Steward, Anderson, Angelo and Taylor, which is an excellent reference for any girl really. I first read it with Poppet and encouraged her to read it every now and then. It is simple to understand and without being vulgar, explicit. Poppet sometimes chose to read it before going to bed, instead of her ‘Billy B Brown’ or ‘Go Girl’ books. My partner would sometimes read it too.

The book and our chats over the previous couple of years all seemed to help Poppet, for when the day her period came, she wasn’t at all concerned; she was mostly curious. It happened when she’d just turned 12, the first week of our two week annual holiday. She woke up to find blood in her undies and pyjamas and came in to tell me about it. “Wow, you’ve got your period,” I said.  “You’re a young woman now, Poppet. This is really special. Shall we tell Daddy?” Poppet nodded. Holding her hand, we went to find her father. “You tell him, Poppet,” I urged.

“I’ve got my period,” she said proudly.

I could sense a little hesitation in my partner as he quickly assessed the best way of responding to this news.

“Is that right?” he said. “So, you’re grown up. You’re a young lady now, aren’t you, my gorgeous girl.”

I helped her change her clothes and gave her a pad to put into her undies. Later that morning, we all went shopping for Poppet’s sanitary items. She and I spent the afternoon on the bed surrounded by packets of tampons, pads, environmentally friendly disposal bags, fresh wipes, brochures and ‘Puberty and Special Girls’. I bought her a mirror and suggested she use it to look at herself, in private, to get to know her body. We talked about why we have periods and ways we can manage them and what Poppet felt best for her.

YouTube is another great reference point for ‘birds and bees’ talks. As Poppet is a visual learner, some of the clips were helpful and I even showed her how to use a tampon. She decided that she’d prefer to use pads, which was fine. She soon realised that swimming with a pad on wasn’t going to work, so she spent the first week of our holiday mostly paddling in the shallows.

This was so different to when I got my period for the first time. I was away for the weekend at a girlfriend’s parent’s country holiday shack. I woke up to blood in my undies and, although I knew a little bit about periods, wasn’t at all prepared. Kirsten and I rode the 28 kilometre round trip on our bikes to the nearest town, so that I could buy some pads. I had a wad of toilet paper in my knickers and had no idea which ones to buy.  I ended up choosing the bulkiest, most uncomfortable things. Thank goodness, it was only a weekend.

When school went back, after the holidays, my partner and I were puzzled to learn that Poppet was getting into trouble and spending time in the Principal’s office. The penny finally dropped for me when I realised these incidents were coinciding with her particularly irritable moods at home; these tied in each month, a week or so leading up to her period. Der, I thought to myself; she has PMT. Once again, we had lots to talk about, including how she could manage her feelings. My partner is now also mindful of this, particularly when she is prickly, using his great sense of humour to diffuse tense situations.

Poppet has had her period now for over a year and takes it in her stride. All our preparation paid off it seems; another mum at school mentioned to me that her daughter was impressed that Poppet knew all the right words when participating in sex education classes at school.

I’ve tried to make her feel good about herself as she goes through puberty and tell her how proud I am of her managing her periods so well. I want her to have a positive body image, whilst at the same time, making sure she maintains proper hygiene and discretion. In this regard, my partner has supported me by listening and reiterating these simple messages.

“Here we go again,” she says resignedly, each month her period comes. I don’t say anything and try not to think of all hassle and the years ahead, when her body will do its thing. There are ways of stopping periods and we’ve had that conversation with her paediatrician. For the moment though, her periods are regular and she is managing them brilliantly, so I think we’ll leave things as they are. Her dad’s an old hand now anyway.