Back in 1974, we had 3 children, two boys by birth, and one girl by adoption. We were ready to adopt one more child.
At first we just went to an agency to adopt one daughter. When she was about 2 years old, we knew for sure that our love for Kristen, was equal to our love for our "birth" children.
We love parenting, and the war in Viet Nam was esculating...
My husband and I were against war, but we felt we should still be doing something to help people. So, we decided to adopt from Viet Nam. We were notified of a 3 year old little girl, a Montenyard child (from the high mountains, in Northern Viet Nam). Her name was Danielle, and she has curly black hair, and the biggest, saddest eyes I had ever seen.
We waited and waited for word of the date of arrival. The war kept getting worse and worse: more deaths, more distruction of the land, families being torn apart, GI's coming home with disabilities...Finally, right near the end of the war, our agency told us that our daughter's papers were ready, and she would probably leave within the next few days. You cannot believe our excitement. We were overjoyed!
Two days later, the news on TV and in the papers screamed of the tragedy: a plane of orphans had crashed, killing many children. Our phone calls were met with busy signals. We read every word in the paper, and searched each picture for our child. We stayed up late at night, watching the TV news reports over and over again.
Finally, the agency called us: our precious little girl had been in Da Nang, but the roads had all been bombed. She had not been on that plane. They were trying to get her out of Da Nang, but didn't know if they would be able. Even the airports were bombed.
Our hearts ached. There was absolutely nothing that we could do to help our child, or any other child.
The war ended. We received a call from the agency. They said they never were able to get Danielle out. I cried. Almost immediately, they asked if I would consider another child. But...she was younger, only 18 months old. We didn't know what to feel, our hearts cried out for Danielle, how could we get excited about a different child? I asked how long we could think about it, and where was she anyway? They said she was already in the US, had been on the last or almost last plane out of Viet Nam, and was in the US. She could arrive home to us in 2 days! Our minds went on overload! And...of course we said yes.
We all piled into our station wagon and headed for the two hour trip to the airport. We were only told what time to be there, and the flight number. We had no picture, no description, just that she was 18 months old. The day was really gray and rainy, but all we could think of was: "This is the longest 2 hours we have ever spent!!" We arrived 1 1/2 hours early, just in case the plane arrived early. Pretty stupid, hugh? Oh well.
We tried to keep the other three kids entertained, but the truth is they kept everyone else entertained!! They were cooperative, just a little hyper due to being bored. The plane arrived...but 45 minutes late, of course. As people walked out of the long tunnel, we stretched our necks as far as we could to try to see our new daughter. My heart was pounding. Soon the tunnel was empty. Maybe she missed the flight? Maybe the agency changed their minds?
Then a very tired looking lady turned the corner at the end of the tunnel. A tiny little being walking beside her. The child's eyes looked wild and frightened. Her hair was thin and brown, and very dull. Her arms were just sticks. The lady smiled at us and told us our daughter was "quite a fire cracker, ha, ha." The tiny little "being," kind of hid behind the lady. You could tell she had no idea what was going on, but you knew that she didn't like any of it, No Way!! I gently bent down and hugged her, but she just stood there, no reaction, only stiffness. She let me take her hand, and she walked very aggressively, almost like she wanted to feel she was the one controlling the whole situation.
She didn't have much to eat on the flight, so we decided to stop at a restaurant near the airport to eat (at least we weren't stupid enough to eat at the airport restaurant). That was quite a feat though...she was petrified of the youth/baby carseat. She screamed and screamed. You should have seen some of the looks we were given in the parking garage!! But, we somehow hooked her into the seat. But, she would not give up the screaming. We stopped at the first informal (fastfood) restaurant we could find. Dorothy seemed to relax as we began to get out of the car. I'm not sure what we ordered, but I do remember that Dorothy quickly ate her food, then looked/stared at my glass of orange juice. Quicker than I could react, she grabbed the glass. We all just watched as she gulped down the whole glass without a breath. She had been given a bottle for the flight, so we didn't even know she could drink from a glass without spilling.
We went back to the car, and...you guessed it, Dorothy screamed as we opened the car door. Again, people looked disapprovingly at us. Our other kids had small gifts they had chosen for her, a couple were their favorite stuffed animals. But...that wasn't the best idea. She screamed at the sight of the toys! She was actually frightened of them. Later we found out that the scars on her legs were from scabies, but also from rats biting her thin little legs.
I don't know how we made it home. Dorothy did calm down, but just glared at us. She seemed so angry at us, as if we had done something awful to her. I guess taking her from her homeland, into a strange family who looked different, talked a strange language, and required her to be "bound" in a carseat would be disturbing to anyone, especially an 18 month old child. Her fear of the baby carseat continued for several weeks. Finally, we decided to just go for short rides, and immediately give her something to eat. At first we just went around the block, and came back home for another "treat." It worked!!
The first night in a crib, in a room to herself, was much too scarey for Dorothy. I decided to sleep on the floor, right beside her bed. I gently patted her to sleep. A few minutes later she woke with a scream! I softly talked to her, patted her back, and soon she was asleep again. An hour went by, and I thought I could slip out, but she woke immediately. I have never seen a child so scared. I wondered if she was dreaming of the rats that would bite at her legs in Viet Nam. Now I knew why she was so afraid of the stuffed animals! I stayed the whole night with her, as she would only sleep a couple of hours at a time. The next morning I was exhausted, but she was full of pep and energy.
At breakfast she would scream at the boys, pure anger, whenever they came near her highchair. We learned later that kids in the orphanage would steal her food, and she had to learn to fight for survival. The day continued like that, I was beginning to wonder how many days it would take for her to sleep by herself, and learn to trust the kids. Days!! It took WEEKS!!! After about 2 weeks of sleeping (dozing actually) I asked our pediatrician what to do. Was I spoiling her? She seemed so scared, but I didn't want to have to sleep with her the rest of my life...He wisely said that we were not spoiling her, she was a very frightened little girl, and very insecure. He assured me she would be fine. It took SIX weeks. I'll never forget falling to sleep, patting her back, then my arm would slip off the mattress and she would wake with another scream...time after time, all night long. I think it really helped me to have patience as I realized she was living in fear. The first night she slept through the night, I kept going in thinking something was wrong, ha, ha.
We had to spend so much time with Dorothy, holding her, rocking her, that we worried about the other kids feeling left out. It was especially hard because Dorothy would not allow the kids near her. My husband and I made sure there were lots of times when we would take them for a walk, to the store, etc. We also explained to them why Dorothy seemed to not like them. They suggested that they give her food...wow, the wisdom of kids!! They became the main ones to give her snacks and put food on her tray. It took time, but she began to see them as providers.
We also found out she had tremendous patience and courage. She watched the kids ride two wheel bikes for several days, she just stood there and watched with a serious look on her face...not joy, just deep thought and observation. One day I looked out the window, and saw her fall off the bike. No expression passed her face...she got up, and tried again and again and again. Her little elbows and knees were scratched and bleeding, but she didn't give up until she succeeded. Yes, in one day she learned to ride a two wheel bike. She just would not give up until she made it.
She quickly learned the language, her diet was great and she would eat everything and anything. But, her body still looked so "starved." A lady from Viet Nam came to our home and tried to talk with Dorothy in Vietnamese, but Dorothy would have nothing to do with the lady. She scowled at her, hid behind me, and would not speak at all. The lady said that some day Dorothy would be very beautiful, and that in Viet Nam her brown hair was a sign of glory...in actuality it was a sign of severe malnutrition!! It was kind of strange, having her say Dorothy would be beautiful someday, because we never thought of her as being anything but beautiful.
Currently, Dorothy is a 2nd year teacher. She works in a low income school, teaching 2nd grade kids. She did receive her Masters Degree, so that helped her to get a pretty decent starting pay...but...she owes many thousands of dollars in student loans. I don't think most people realize how much teachers have to pay for their education. Her school has a lot of children who have English as a second language, or who only speak Spanish or Russian. She is pretty fluent in Spanish, but not a word of Russian. It is a challenge, but she loves the kids. She plays soccer as often as she can, and exercises regularly. She still has the same enthusiasiam and determination she had when she arrived as a "skinny little thing" from Viet Nam. It has been a joy to be her mom, and to also become friends with an exciting person. It is a relationship that changes as the years go by, and each change is different. I will always be her mom, but now I can look to her for advice too.
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The Coast can be very, very dangerous. Sneaker waves can come up with no warning. Here, Dorothy and Erin, realize the upcoming wave is a bit too big and powerful, so they run as fast as the wind that comes with the huge wave. They got a little wet, but not much, and they were laughing a lot. Luckily, they know the dangers, and don't tempt the waves too much. Even then, some people have lost their lives in the beauty of the coast. |
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This picture was taken of Dorothy and her brother, Jay, back in 1994. We were on a hike in a beautiful state park. Jay has Downs Syndrome.
| Dorothy and one of her (many) friends, Peter. Dorothy is the type of person who makes friends easily. She is so full of life and love and energy, that people just feel comfortable with her quickly.
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