Raising the Wings
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About this ebook
“Soledad is a 38-year-old single woman, determined to become an adoptive mother. She tells the whole process to achieve it through the National System for the Integral Development of the Family (DIF). She attended the School for Parents, responded to the psychological examination and underwent a socioeconomic study. It was all worth it to get the adoption of Victor, a 7-year-old boy with HIV. She has been a mother for three years already, and shares the experience of having a special child who has memories of violence from his biological parents, but to whom she has given all the care, education, protection and love to help him build his self-esteem and likewise she has created her own happiness.
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Raising the Wings - Soledad Pseud.
RAISING THE WINGS
Soledad
By DEMAC Editorial
TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
MY DREAMS
THE DECISION
THE FIRST TIME I SAW HIM
AMBULATORY CENTERS OF PREVENTION AND ATTENTION IN AIDS.
RESPECT
YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!
CHRISTMAS POSADA
CLASSROOM CLASSMATES
CAN YOU BUY ME A DRESS?
OUR FIRST CHRISTMAS
THE FAMILY
HIS BIRTHDAY NUMBER EIGHT
HATE
SCARS
HOW HE GOT TO THE SHELTER
FINAL ADOPTION
LIMITS
THE UNION OF A MOTHER WITH HER SON
WHAT DO I EXPECT FROM MY SON?
TO BE A FOSTER MOTHER
HAPPINESS
INTRODUCTION
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
I got home at half past four in the afternoon. I felt annoyed and upset, it had not been an easy day at work. Lately it was hard for me to go. Even though I only worked from Monday to Wednesday. I was not hungry, so I took a bath. I figured that would take my stress off a bit. I turned on the television and there was nothing interesting, I turned it off and looked out the window for a while. It was traffic time, the drivers seemed upset and honked the horn because they were not moving, the train was passing and the noise it was making added to the one from the vehicles.
I was distracted by hearing the screams of a lady walking in front of the house, she was yelling at a child and was pulling him, the child cried and wanted to get away, she walked faster, forcing him to keep up with her. "How can she do that? I wondered, what is the poor innocent doing to her? I turned away angry and nostalgic from the window. If I had a son, I would never treat him that way.
I looked for a book to get out of my thoughts. I was immersed in the reading when a quote caught my attention. I underlined it, took a picture of it with the cell phone and shared it on my Facebook.
I will go through this life only once. Therefore, whatever good I can do or any kindness I can show towards any human being, let me do it now. Do not let me delegate or neglect it, because I will not go through this life again.
I was thinking about the phrase when the phone rang. I did not want to answer, I had no intention of speaking to anyone. The phone was still ringing, so I assumed it was important and, finally I answered. It was Ms. Nuñez, from the National System for the Integral Development of the Family (DIF).
Monday, September 10, 2012
I was nervous, but determined. I had groomed myself a little more than usual. That day I asked for permission to be late for work. I felt my legs bending as I got out of the car. At the entrance was a guard.
-What can I do for you? – he asked kindly.
-They told me that here are the office of DIF, I am here to ask for information about the adoptions.
-They are not here anymore, Miss, they changed them to the Central Park. I do not know if they are already working. They changed just last week, but they can give you information there.
-Thank you – I replied, and left quickly.
I got in the car. I could not believe it! It had taken me so long to take that step and it turns out that the offices were no longer there, it made me mad.
I stayed for a while in the car deciding whether to go to the Central Park at once or forget about it and go to work. After a few minutes I drove directly to the Central Park. At once, I thought, I can’t be asking for permission over and over. I entered to the offices and saw everything in disarray: papers on the floor, computer equipment and furniture everywhere. In what looked like the information module was a young man. I went towards him determinedly and said to him:
-Good day, young man, I am here to ask for information about the adoptions.
-Good day, miss. Come with me, please.
He took me to a small office. A man about fifty years old was connecting the computer.
-Sir – said the young man to him –, they are here to ask for information about the adoptions, can you assist her?
The man kindly greeted me and removed some papers from a chair so I could sit down.
-At the moment I cannot provide you much information. As you can see, we are in the process of change. We do not have any phone lines yet, but if you want to, leave me your information so that they can contact you.
He wrote down on a piece of paper my name and phone number.
-That is all. As soon as a workshop of school for parents is scheduled, they will call you to see if you are still interested. During the year three courses are given, but since DIF changed from municipal to state-owned, we do not know if we will continue the same or there will be changes.
As soon as a course is available we will inform you.
I said thanks and left angry. A workshop for parents? Is this how the process begins? Truly I do not understand, I am not a mother. Why do I want to come to a workshop?, what I want is to adopt a child! How rude! On the first paper he saw he wrote down my information, not even on a sheet, and in all that mess it is easy to lose it.
Dear God: I already threw in the nets, you decide what I will fish.
MY DREAMS
As a child I dreamed that growing up I would marry a handsome and wealthy man, as was the case with princesses. I would have three or four children, I would live in a big and beautiful house with a huge garden, with a maid so I would have all the time in the world to take care of my children and my husband. We would travel to many places in the world and we would be very happy.
The reality was very different. I had not found my prince charming, and after thirty years I began to despair thinking that I would no longer have a child. I lived with my parents, and when I told them that I wanted to have a child, my dad told me: You do not know the great responsibility and how difficult it is to raise a child, more for a single mother; children need both parents
. I listened to him out of respect, I thought he told me all that stuff because he was old-fashioned, and because maybe he would be ashamed if I was a single mother.
At night I used to think: who, from the men I know, could be a good candidate to be the father of my son?
He should be handsome, intelligent, tall – because I do not like short men –. I did not wait that long to have a foolish and ugly child! In addition, he would have to undergo medical tests, I would not expose myself to being infected by some disease or AIDS. He should be someone trustworthy, but who? Actually, I did not know anyone who met my expectations. I