I think I could write a book only with what people tells me about my adoption from Ethiopia. It’s true that usually the don’t mean bad, and many times is for ignorance or pure stupidity but I really don’t know how they come about those comments!
A couple of weeks ago a person asked my husband if “children from Ethiopia are healthy” because he knew of a friend who adopted kids from Vietnam and that “they gave them all sick”.
As if we people were some kind of merchandise and in this case had come defective! Yes, sure, we should ask for some kind of pedigree and a warranty, right? So in case they get sick we can return them and get our money back or at least an exchange…
Stupid things that people say!
And while we are at it, we could ask them of a certain height, that they should be perfectly symmetric, to sing in tune, without snot in their noses or dirt under their nails… Of course that if we ask that we should be perfect too so we don’t ruin the harmony.
Nobody wants children to get sick or to suffer, everybody wants them healthy and happy, but we are all imperfect and vulnerable and that is why we form families to take care of each other and help each other in difficult times.
And even very healthy people gets sick from the most terrible things; and nothing worse than seeing a son or a daughter sick.
I’ve always been a person of healthy habits and without serious health problems.
Obviously during my pregnancy I did everything possible for my child to grow healthy in my womb. From eating the most natural and healthy foods, to take my vitamins, to avoid exposing myself to any kind of risky situation for me or my child and to do all my medical controls. When I gave birth the only thing I cared about, as any other mother, was for my son to be healthy.
When Dylan was born from a natural birth and without problems, with the right weight and a perfect health I felt very grateful that everything went well.
My son stayed healthy and without problems until he was four years old, when I noticed that among other things he got colds very often, so I took him to see his pediatrician, who like most doctors the only thing they think is that we are some kind of hypochondriac parents that know nothing about the heath of our child. So for many weeks I kept taking him to see the doctor because I knew that something was not right, because my knowledge about my son told me that, something had changed; but of course I couldn’t I know more that the doctor, right? Because she knew him from seeing him like…maybe once a year, oh, well, sorry, maybe twice a year?
So one day in the morning when Dylan got up from bed, he was completely pale, as if all his blood run out of his body. It was then that I told myself that I wouldn’t leave the doctor’s office without her telling me what was wrong with my child, even if I had to torn down the walls of that place.
We were lucky enough that that day his regular pediatrician wasn’t in the office, so he was seen by another doctor that after my insistence, because she didn’t believe me either, run a blood test with the hope of getting me off her back.
Surprise, surprise… my son was almost without red blood cells…, and white cells,… and platelets.
That’s when we began our terrible experience to find out what was ailing him and to try to save his life; the life of a child who came with a “factory warranty”, healthy parents, natural birth, healthy baby. What happened, how he got sick, what he got sick of? Nobody was able to tell us, but we went through rough times, from doctor to doctor, from diagnosis to diagnosis, very close to a bone marrow transplant and seeing him deteriorate little by little.
Luckily the story has a happy ending. At the OHSU hospital (Oregon Health and Science University) we came across an extraordinary Israeli doctor that was working in the Oncology Department and to whom we will be always grateful. With a great intuition and a will to conquer the unknown, this doctor started to try things and medicines until my son recovered his health.
Almost all of us have heard a similar story, but few have lived it in their own flesh.
Maybe this is a very private story but I think it must be told because it shows us the fragility of life, that we should appreciate the moments we spend together and that we should love each other.
And that nobody has a warranty about anything, life is a gift that should be cherished and that I want my children to come as they come, I want them imperfect, as we all are..
AliciA