Two Worlds Collide

We’re dealing with some minor health issues with Girlie. I have always had teeny, tiny babies. The Kiddo was tiny, and born the latest out of all my kids. It’s not uncommon to find my kids below average on the growth charts, both CDC and WHO.  I’ve come to accept it- I make small kids.

Maybe it’s been the ongoing comments about how tiny she is that sort of peaked my interest. The Hubby said it’s just easy to ignore how small she really is because she is so intelligent in other ways. She’s so close to talking, she clearly understands what we say, she can say a couple words, and totally understands her name. She seems perfectly normal, if not a little above average.

Yet, I realized this past week, that Girlie has not gained in weight or height in over 6 months. And of course, in good Danielle fashion, I panicked. I panicked enough to make a phone call to the doctor to see what we need to do.  Our doctor is great, and I appreciate that he is hands on, when he needs to be, and is hands off when he needs to be. And he trusts me. When I tell him, “something isn’t right”, he listens.

In this case, he agreed, and handed me off on a referral. A referral to the doctor I know diagnosed my son with the disease he has. So, we’ll be talking to the same person, discussing issues with the same person who handed down a diagnosis that changed my life and obviously The Kiddo’s.

A diagnosis, on most days, I don’t always agree with.

It really might not seem like a big deal to outsiders, but it’s a scary prospect. Considering my feelings regarding said diagnosis, which I won’t go into yet, I worry that perhaps I’m going to be sitting in the wrong office, and if my opinion of her is already tainted by the diagnosis she made with The Kiddo.  Will I be open to her suggestions for Girlie?  I know the Mom in me will want to say, “Regarding The Kiddo, did you know this?” but I know I won’t do it.  I’ve never been that bold, and I would never interject myself into that part of his life like that.

Yet, I still wonder if I should be pushing to see someone else. My medical friends say she is one of the best, that she is happy to refer out, which is likely what we’ll need. I’ve been told she does the follow ups, the conversations- you know, all the things that you want as a parent contending with a possible diagnosis.

But, of course, there is still a but- I don’t trust her. I’ve never sat in her room, never talked to her, but based on the information I was given regarding The Kiddo’s diagnosis, I don’t trust her, or a lot of the key characters involved in his final diagnosis. The hardest part is that I don’t know entirely what went into the diagnosis with The Kiddo. I know the cole’s notes version which I have been given, but I also know that the adoptive parents were accepted into a program in which my participation would have been needed, and they refused to do it, claiming they wanted to protect my privacy (as much as I love them, I don’t buy this for a moment). I know, that parts of the diagnosis were skipped, because I have friends and family who work in the industry. So can I really trust that all the necessary steps will be done with Girlie? Will this doctor be as thorough as she needs to be, when I know she was not as thorough as necessary with The Kiddo’s diagnosis? Was this doctor the one who blatantly ignored all the steps necessary to gain the proper diagnosis that was labelled on The Kiddo?

Perhaps it’s wasn’t the doctor. I know my issue with the diagnosis of The Kiddo goes so much deeper then the surface, obviously.  I feel like I’ve been blamed, and robbed of being part of such a big diagnosis.  This diagnosis, I should have been a part of.  They should NOT have gotten this diagnosis without my involvement. Clearly, in my semi-open, not always open adoption, I have no part in these situations; but the Mama Bear in me is still alive and well. She still wants to fight to find out more information. of

Information I’ll likely never get access to, because I have no rights to any of him.

Either way, in a little over a month, I will come face to face with another person who has no idea that The Kiddo is MY kiddo. The same person who probably wanted to ask me questions before making diagnosis, but didn’t get to. The things I wish I could say. The things I won’t say.

This is what it means to be a birthmother in a semi-open adoption; you know some of the key players, but they have no idea who you are, and even if they did, they wouldn’t speak or talk to you for for even a moment.

At the very least, I hope we get some answers for my sweet Girlie.


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