Blood Is Thicker Than Water (Even When the Blood Is Not the Same as Yours)

A true story about a five-person Brazilian family traveling over 4000 miles to Ukraine to adopt two disabled kids.

Gabriela Rodrigues
Sep 7, 2018 · 8 min read
Our first picture all together! How we fit seven people in a selfie? Don’t ask me.

Written and previously published in January of 2017.

I was the first and only child in my family for a quiet and lonely seven years. Although I enjoyed having my parents’ attention all to myself, I ended up having imaginary friends, playing by myself, and finding things to do alone most of the time (this is actually how I became so excessively in love with reading). In 2008, when my first brother, Henrique, was born, I was elated; company, at last!

Henrique, my first brother.

I very much believed it would be just us two (kids), but seven years later, once again, my mother gave birth to a third child, Luis Felipe (more commonly known as “Lipe” or “the happiest child you will ever know”), who was born with Down Syndrome and changed me forever. “Now it’s just us three,” we thought; and once again we were (thankfully!) wrong.

Lipe, my second brother.

Last year, in June, we were in Boston as I was taking a summer course at Harvard University. My parents decided to take Lipe to the Boston Children’s Hospital for an overall checkup, to see if he had been developing at the same rate as kids without Down and to see if there was anything we needed to pay extra attention to, such as the condition’s characteristic heart issues. We had initially scheduled a time with a doctor, but had to be attended by a different doctor — little did we know that it would be a life-changing alteration.

Upon arriving, we encountered the doctor appointment small talk as usual; “where are you from?”, “why are you here?”, “what’s your family’s routine like?”. Suddenly, the doctor turned around and told us we were the family she’d been looking for. She said she had recently adopted a child and had decided to spread awareness about adoption, more specifically for kids with special needs. We had never considered adoption, more than anything because we already considered our family pretty big, but decided to listen anyway. She showed us an adoption and donation website. Their mission is to “advocate and find families for orphans with Down Syndrome and other special needs”, which immediately caught our attention; our experience having a baby with Down in the family has been wonderful, why not have two?

“Owen’s” passport picture. Yes, those are real stars trapped in his eyes.

She showed us the page describing a baby boy under the alias of “Owen” (all kids for adoption in Ukraine have aliases and their real names are only revealed upon a decision to adopt), and we immediately fell in love! He was so tiny, we couldn’t help but ache to protect him. In the description, it is stated every detail about the child’s special needs, and “Owen” has Down and (easily solved with surgery) heart problems. We worried about how we were going to go to Ukraine to pick him up, but that was a minor detail. From there, we started working on the long, bureaucratic process to adopt him, and eventually discovered that he had been abandoned at birth due to having Down. He has never been breastfed, never had “motherly love”, and hadn’t even been named, all because he had an extra chromosome which ultimately meant, and I quote from the medical report, “he will never walk nor talk like ‘normal’ kids”. We had already been there, and done that, though; we had heard exactly the same about Lipe when we first learned about his condition, and he has developed at the same rate as kids without the condition. He talks all the time, plays peek-a-boo, walks holding on to nearby furniture, and laughs so beautifully and contagiously nobody can help but laugh along. At no point in the adoption process were we apprehensive or afraid of anything.

“Isabella’s” passport picture, chubby cheeks and all.

Flashback story time: I’ve always wanted to have a sister. Someone to hug, be my little partner in crime, and most importantly, with hair long enough to braid. So as if we didn’t have enough kids already, in September, when we found a girl, nearly 2 years old, under the alias of “Isabella”, I tried to convince my mother to adopt her for two days (non-stop). My father already thought we were going to be too busy with two babies in the house, so we decided to secretly go through the process for her as well. He only came to know one month later, but fortunately accepted it well! She has spina bifida, which means that a section of her spine is exposed. Upon birth, doctors required her to stay in the hospital for five months; her mother abandoned her there without even looking at her. Her skin was then badly sewn up to hide the spine’s malformation, and that was that. After recovery, she was sent to the orphanage, where she would stay for another seventeen months.

We had three stops before our arrival to Odessa. We live in Brasilia, the capital, so we had to travel to São Paulo, followed by Paris, then Kyiv, only to arrive in Odessa, which was a total of about 20 hours traveling. Our first days were spent dealing with paperwork, requesting passports, and so on. We arrived on a Sunday and only picked up “Isabella”, who we decided to rename to Luisa, on Tuesday. We weren’t allowed to pick up Lucas until Friday, as he had been ill with pneumonia — kids with Down already have a weaker immune system, plus the cold weather and the other kids who were already sick led to his situation escalating pretty quickly.

Left picture: My parents, José Wilame Araújo Rodrigues and Beatriz do Prado Rodrigues, with Luisa on her first day out of the orphanage! Right picture: Luisa after 16 days with us.

Our first day with Luisa was magical. She seemed very mistrustful, and would nearly cry with every hug, but once she got used to us, she played with us, smiled, laughed, and seemed so content! We found out she liked yogurt, bananas, and playing cook (just mixing pieces of bread with dry cereal in a bowl, but it made her happy, so what can we say?). Lipe also loved playing with her, and she quickly got used to him too.

When we were changing her into her pajamas, the truth about how she was treated came out. Her legs were covered in bruises from how harshly they were pinched — she’s quite feisty, I must admit, so we can only imagine this happened out of lack of patience when getting her dressed and changing her diapers. When presented with flip flops, her first reaction was to hit us with them. She learned what she was exposed to.

When the time came to pick up Lucas, we were once again beyond excited to meet him! He had supposedly recovered and we were allowed to bring him home at last. We had yet another magical day, but it was truly painful to see how tiny he is — nearly just skin and bone. Plus, he had still not recovered, and had to go through another five days taking medicine before the constant coughing was over. He had also only been drinking one half of a (baby) bottle of milk per day, when he was supposed to be drinking a full one every two hours. Nevertheless, he would not stop laughing, and adjusted to our family as if he had been with us since day one!

Left picture: Lucas’s first day out of the orphanage! Right picture: Lucas after 12 days with us.

One common thing we discovered about both Lucas and Luisa is that they had never felt sleepy before. Not once. Because at the orphanage, the kids had been heavily drugged. Before they even got to a point where they were sleepy, they were already sleeping. They spent a portion of their days in a non-medically prescribed drug-induced sleep. Any orphanage we walked into was dead silent, because all of the kids are sound asleep. Lucas and Luisa had to learn to deal with feeling sleepy, and all of the buildup before they fall asleep, etc.

Much like Lipe’s birth, the adoption process and bringing the kids home has been a life changing experience. More than anything, my perspective about adoption has completely changed. I’ve narrowed my findings into four main points:

  1. Don’t assume that people who adopt are only doing so because they are infertile or it’s their last resort. We were incredibly lucky to find two kids who we feel like were always meant to be with us. Don’t downplay it by being rude and saying “Yeah, it’s good when you can’t have kids anymore.” It’s always great, no matter what situation you’re in. Thanks.
  2. The reality about orphanages is completely different from the stereotypes. It’s not a wonderful place where children receive love and get a second shot at life. It’s dark, silent, and overall depressing.
  3. Family is not defined by blood. I met these kids less than 20 days ago, and I already love them more than I thought possible! Family isn’t about “we have the same blood”, but rather about “we love each other, we want to protect each other, and make each other a priority”.
  4. Blood is thicker than water (even when the blood is not the same as yours).

Also have an adoption story to share? Please do so in the comment section underneath! If you would like to know more about the international adoption process, or are interested in adopting yourself, feel free to contact me through my profile or by commenting.

Gabriela Rodrigues

Written by

Finance & Entrepreneurship major at Northeastern University, disability-rights activist, and public speaking enthusiast.

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