Every rose has its thorns ...

Since we've been home from Ethiopia for three months, I figured it was time to share a side of our time together that has not been so pleasant.  I didn't want to mention it before because, well, it's pretty gross and I don't want anyone to think of sweet little Ruby as a germy kid.  But I've decided that it's just another part of the whole experience, so I'll just give you a peek at the dark side ... or, as I think of it, the diaper side.  (And then after you read this horrifying tale, be sure to check out the cute pics of our day at the park below!)

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Ah, the joys of having a child in diapers.  I know, I know, we signed on for this, but I have to say that it's really no fun at all.  The boys have been out of diapers for years, so I had sort of blocked out the whole experience.  But I figured that at least Ruby would be old enough where there wouldn't be so many diapers every day, and maybe, I hoped, she would be close to being ready to be potty trained.  And, I will admit, I'm pretty old school when it comes to potty training.  In most other areas, I'm pretty laid back, but when it came to potty training the boys, I was like a drill sergeant.  My mother-in-law happened to be visiting around the time I decided that Gus was ready to leave diapers in his past, and I think she is still traumatized by the experience.  Gus, on the other hand, seems fine, but we'll probably hear more about this when he grows up and robs a convenience store and blames it on unresolved control issues.  Sorry about that, Gus.  I just couldn't take the diapers anymore.


Anyway, back to my current problem.  Not only is Ruby nowhere near ready to be potty trained (she is only 19 months, after all), but she arrived home three months ago with a lovely companion, giardia.  For anyone who is unfamiliar with this disgusting parasite, it causes diarrhea, gas, and stomach pain, among other things.  In Ethiopia, I think pretty much everyone has it and just lives with the symptoms that can flare up and then go away from time to time.  Some people don't have severe symptoms, and they can pass the parasite out without knowing they have had it.  Before we tested Ruby, I didn't really connect the dots, and I figured that any of her bowel issues were probably just her getting used to American food and the like.  I think I even made an early reference to a mysterious stomach pain that was making Ruby scream and writhe around, and we eventually discovered that it was the bug.  And while the illness is not pleasant, the treatment for it is pretty rough as well.  The medicine kills (or at least tries to kill) the parasite, but at the same time it kills everything else in your intestines, so it's hard to digest anything.  


Anyway, poor Ruby has been through three rounds of treatment and it looks like the big G still has the upper hand.  Lots of diarrhea (4-6 times) every day, gas, and stomach pain that gives her little fits.  I have to say that overall she's doing really well - she's happy, eats great, sleeps well, plays and gets into everything like she is supposed to be doing, so I don't want to give the impression that she's huddled in a corner holding her tummy all day.  But after three months, I think we're both getting really, really sick of it.  Of course, I hate to complain (you know what a mature and patient person I am), but I feel almost as sorry for myself as I do for Ruby.  Not only do Ruby's diapers smell like something that died two weeks ago, but they are messy and she hates (with great passion) having them changed, so she kicks and screams while I'm doing it, thereby causing alot of collateral damage to the changing pad, Ruby's clothes and, often, my clothes.  And since I've already said too much about laundry elsewhere in my blog, I'll just say that I'm doing many loads a day on the sanitary setting.  And I really don't want to make you feel too sorry for me, so I won't go into detail about the sanitizing and lysol-ing I engage in to prevent anyone else in the house from catching it.  So far so good on that score, so maybe I'm a better housecleaner than I had suspected (doubtful, as I can see the evidence to the contrary from where I'm sitting typing this).  


Anyway, I know you're all busted up crying your eyes out for me at this point, and I really appreciate that, because I'm trying to be strong, but it's really hard.  I mean, of all of the "issues" an orphan from Ethiopia could have had, is this really so bad?  No.  I know that.  However, it has not been great, but I feel like I have not wanted to talk about this particular issue with anyone because I worried that they wouldn't want to be around us (even though you really can't catch it unless, as previously stated, you actually get poop into your mouth somehow*), or they would have a negative feeling about adopting children from Ethiopia.  In fact, I think that in general I have that urge to paint a really positive picture of the whole experience, especially to non-adoption people, for that reason.  Friends and sometimes strangers ask how it's all going, and I only discuss all of the great things about Ruby and Ethiopia - and there are plenty to discuss, so it's not like I don't have anything to say.  But when Finn and Gus were little, pretty much all I ever talked about were things like sleep issues, eating issues, aggressive behavior, doubts, concerns, petty annoyances.  Because as much as I might complain about my biological children, it's not going to deter a person from having a child if they want to do that to hear that there are (many) times when I want to lock them both in a room with a bag of Cheetos and come back a few hours later.  


But adoption is different.  People are curious and they may have heard stories about adopted kids that were difficult or dangerous or never fit in with the family.  Those kinds of stories circulate around as fast as giardia in a mountain stream.  I couldn't even count the number of times someone has relayed a story to me about a person they know who adopted a child and there were "problems."  People rarely suggest that a non-adopted person's bad behavior might stem from him being kept in the family.  Like, maybe if this idiot lacrosse player who murdered his girlfriend at UVA recently had been put up for adoption, he would have turned out much better.  Or maybe not, but my point is that people ascribe things to "adoption issues" when a child is adopted because it's easy to point to that and say, well that must be what is wrong with him.  Obviously, every child and every situation is totally different, and I'm not trying to make some larger statement about adoption vs. anything.  I wouldn't even call myself an advocate for adoption, because it's so complicated and it's not the right thing for every family, but I hate that there might be people who would consider adopting and then get scared off by the stories they hear from friends or in the media.   


But back to me (of course!), I think that because I have a child who is adopted, I seem to want to make it seem like Ruby doesn't have any issues.  "See, this adopted child is perfect, so all of those stories you have heard are totally untrue."  Truthfully, she is perfect.  No, but she is awesome and funny and smart and loving, so that's about as close as you get.  But are there times when she, like my other children, drives me nuts?  Yes.  Will there be other problems on the road ahead of us, some perhaps stemming from the fact that she is adopted?  Yes.  Will Ruby ever be cured of giardia so that I can stop having to use lysol spray on every surface in our house, thereby risking future cancer vs. immediate threat of diarrhea? Ask me in a few months.  

*You get it from drinking water that has been contaminated by feces, which evidently all of the water in Ethiopia has been.  In the US, people (myself not included) who enjoy hiking and camping know better than to drink water out of streams and rivers due to the risk of contracting giardia from the water (since animals can carry it and, naturally, don't use toilets).  You can also get it if you inadvertently touch something that has been contaminated and then put your hands in your mouth - what a lovely thought!