adopţie

“Let Me Tell You a Nice Story!” / „Pentru viață” magazine, Spring 2014

 sa-ti-spun-o-poveste

Mom could not have children because of a virus. She was once pregnant, but she lost the baby at 16 weeks. After endless treatment failed, she decided, together with Dad – God rest his soul! – to adopt.

They started looking around, connecting, networking… In the end, some close friends sent them to a contact person from the Bucur Maternity Hospital.

In the fine morning of March 25th, 1986, mom came to the hospital and the first person she met there was this nurse. Then she met me, “a little long girl“ (I was only two days old and had around two kilos and over 40 centimeters). I was “the most beautiful baby” mom had ever seen, with beautifully pink complexion and blue eyes. I was crying, but, when Mom first took me in her arms, a divine connection appeared – I grew quiet and she fell in love with me.

My natural mother was only 15 when she gave birth to me, while my natural father was in his thirties. The classic story: she had grown under his eyes, he fell in love, she became pregnant. He did not even know, because he had left the country…

Mom quit school. My grandmother would have liked to keep me, to care for me and raise me as her own daughter. But they were five living in two rooms: my natural grandparents, my natural mother, my uncle and another aunt. My uncle was participating in many school contests and the bachelor’s degree was coming and he could not learn because the baby was crying. He said that another baby in the house will make him leave home. So they decided to put me up for adoption.

Then they made some requests and placed some gifts in the appropriate places, so that I can get into a home. I was almost going to Sweden. Too good I didn’t in the end, because I really don’t like the cold!

When he saw me, Dad started to cry – with happiness! All his life he spoiled me like a princess: the daily food pack for school, breakfast in bed on weekends, holidays, French fries whenever I wanted (even when there was no gas for the stove and he had to wait for hours before they were fried on the heater). He made it as clearly as possible that he was proud of me, proud of his princess!

Mom took care of my manners and my academic training. She stayed home with me until I was nine. When I was four I already knew a lot of songs and poems. In the first grade I could read, I was taking English and French lessons, I was doing modern dance, society dance, studying the violin and eating with knife and fork like a little lady, keeping the elbows close to my body. She also guided me towards training college, which helped me discover my love for children that I fructify daily at work.

How wonderfully does God arrange everything! Dad had brown curly hair and green eyes and Mom had a delicate nose and full lips. That is what I “inherited” from them. On my right hand I have the same moles Mom had on her right hand and on my left hand I have the moles Dad had on his left hand. Exactly the same, of the same dimensions and in the same place! Let’s not forget we’re talking about those who raised me, not about my natural parents. I haven’t met the latter, I don’t know anything about them…

Anyway, I only consider mother and father those who raised me! I’ve felt as their own flesh and blood all my life.

This is my story, a story Mom told me when I was 14. She started like that:

“Let Me Tell You a Nice Story…”

 

by Mara Nistor, Bucharest

(The name was changed to protect identity.)

Photo: Shutterstock


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