Off The Record
A Woman Adopts A Girl Who Does Not Speak English, And When She Learns To Communicate, She Is Shocked To Discover The Truth
Annie’s doctor suggested adoption as a backup plan after telling her she wouldn’t be able to conceive. This resulted in the adoption of a child called Abiona, who at first didn’t understand English. But after learning enough, her new daughter revealed a secret to Annie that fundamentally altered everything.
In Dr. Martinez’s office, Annie sat nervously between pictures of contented families. She was welcomed to have a seat by the doctor, a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman.
“When can we proceed with the fertilization procedure?” inquired Annie, grinning.
After inhaling deeply, Dr. Martinez stated, “Unfortunately, the tests indicate that you are not able to become a parent. I apologize deeply.”
Annie felt her heart sink. The doctor suggested against IVF while considering it because of its significant dangers and poor success rates. However, she recommended adoption as a substitute and gave Annie a pamphlet containing details and images of kids in need of homes.
Annie sat at her kitchen table, leafing through the booklet while the silence of her house filled the room. She found herself captivated by a baby’s picture, mesmerized by his naive, happy face.
Her hands shaking, she picked up the phone, dialed the adoption agency, and scheduled a meeting. A few days later, Annie met social worker Caitlin, who invited her into her little office. She shook her head and apologized for making you wait.
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Annie said, trying not to show her anxiety.
As they sat there, they talked about Annie’s work, her family, and her wish to adopt. “Are you able to give a youngster adequate time? It’s more than a couple of hours every day, Caitlin pondered.
Annie said, “Yes, I do comprehend.” For my child, “I’m willing to make sacrifices.”
Caitlin went on, “Adoption can be challenging, especially in the beginning,” but in the end, she granted Annie’s application.
“I comprehend,” Annie firmly stated. “Thank you.”
The following morning, Annie was having breakfast when Caitlin called. She asked, “Hello, Annie?”
“That’s me, indeed,” Annie answered.
The social worker said, “We’ve found a child for you,” and introduced Abiona, a six-year-old from the Democratic Republic of the Congo who didn’t speak English. “Would you like to meet her today?”
“Are you six years old? Not in English?” Annie faltered, “I… I need to think about this.”
Take as much time as you need, of course. Caitlin answered, “Have a good day,” but Annie heard her sigh before she hung up.
Annie thought about adopting a six-year-old for the remainder of the day. Giving birth to a baby was the traditional start of motherhood, so raising an older child right away seemed… strange. But this might be her one and only chance.
Resoundingly affirmative, she phoned Caitlin the following day, and the social worker set up a visitation with Abiona, who was staying with a foster home.
Annie’s pulse was pounding when she knocked on the door of the foster home. A woman greeted her with a “Hello, how’s it going?” tone that was not very welcoming.
“Hello, my name is Annie,” she answered, twitching a little. “I came to see Abiona.”
As the woman led Annie inside, it was difficult to ignore the disorganized state of her home. The living room was cluttered, there were kids running around, and the television was blaring in the background.
However, the lady indicated a location where Abiona was sitting and painting silently. “That’s who she is.” She added, “Good luck, because she doesn’t talk to anyone,” and walked off to reprimand some other children.
Annie walked up to the girl, who looked at her for a moment before going back to painting. “Were these drawn by you?” She bent to take a closer look and questioned, “They’re imposing.”
Abiona did not say anything, only a small nod.
The foster mother broke off. “Make no attempt at all.” She said, “She doesn’t comprehend a word of English.” When Annie looked up, she was wearing a look of superiority.
Annie stated, “That’s fine,” giving the girl her full attention. Sitting next to her, she started drawing as well, trying to express herself through images.
“This is my house,” she drew, adding a stick figure with long hair. Here, I reside. Do you wish to cohabitate with me?
The girl drew a tiny stick figure next to Annie’s after giving the paper and her face a brief moment of attention. Annie smiled and felt her stomach flutter at the gesture.
She showed Abiona around her new, comfortable bedroom after welcoming her home. The girl looked at everything, remaining silent and perceptive.
Upon discovering paints and brushes arranged, she started drawing instantly while humming a cheerful melody. Annie observed for a brief moment, soaking everything in. She thought to herself before joining her new daughter, “I’m a mommy finally.”
Annie attempted to teach Abiona English during the ensuing months, but the conventional approaches proved too much for her. She then modified her strategy and used drawing sessions to impart the language to her in an enjoyable and interesting way.
Abiona gave a positive response and gradually picked up words and phrases.
While using a picture book to explore the idea of family one day, Annie pointed to an illustration and stated, “See, this is a family,” then she pointed to Abiona as “Daughter” and to herself as “Mom.”
Instead of nodding in comprehension, Abiona’s response caught her off guard; she started crying.
“What’s wrong?” Annie questioned, giving the girl a head pat.
Abiona picked up a few of her sketches. She pointed to the paper and said, “I have Mom and Dad.” Annie’s gaze expanded. It was unclear to her because Caitlin had never discussed Abiona’s relatives with her.
She questioned, “What are you saying, honey?”
The girl went on, “Bad men took me from Mom and Dad.”
“Okay, okay,” Annie murmured in a calming, low voice. “Tell me more.”
In shaky English, Abiona claimed that the terrible men had stolen her, but that she was now with the police. Her sole recollection of Annie’s birth mother was a handcrafted toy that she displayed to her.
“A tiny bit. I’ve never seen Mom’s face.” Mom, though, smells honey. “She gave this to me,” Abiona said, biting her lower lip and averting her gaze to wipe away a tear.
Annie was breathing hard at the moment, holding back her own feelings. It is not necessary for a six-year-old to be that strong on her own. The young child started crying into her chest as soon as she gave her a hug. Their friendship became much stronger after they revealed that secret.
A few months later, Abiona had a violent nighttime coughing spell. Annie drove her as fast as she could to the hospital. “I require assistance!” She cried, “My daughter, she can’t breathe,” to the emergency department personnel.
Annie was left waiting outside the examination room with anxiety while the medical team attended to her daughter rapidly. She was soon stabilized, but the beeping equipment all around her added to the eerie atmosphere. But a few hours after the team ran a number of tests, the utter tragedy struck.
One physician stepped into the room, inhaled deeply, and started. “I regret to inform you of this. But Abiona’s illness is terminal. Her remaining days are limited.”
Though they were cautious, his words had a knife-like effect on Annie. “What?” she murmured in a scarcely discernible whisper. “What’s wrong with her?”
The doctor explained her issue. Annie’s head was spinning with all the ramifications, so she didn’t understand its convoluted name.
“Have I gotten attention sooner? She looked very well. She was given to me a few months ago. I received no information from anyone.”
Even if you had observed something, there wasn’t much you could have done. This is an inherited illness that presents itself quite suddenly. The doctor concluded, caressing her shoulder, “This is not your fault,” and walked away.
An hour later, Abiona woke up.
Annie whispered, “Hey, sweetheart,” holding the girl’s hand. “What would you like to have? What else am I able to get you?”
Though feeble, Abiona’s voice was clear. She muttered, “I want to see my mom,” with a melancholy expression in her eyes.
With a nod in agreement, Annie left the hospital carrying Abiona’s handmade toy in the hopes that it would contain information that would help her locate her real mother. They agreed to do a DNA test on the toy when she went to the police station.
They miraculously discovered a match and provided Annie with the contact details of her birth mother. Tendey was her name. Annie insisted on finding Abiona’s mother, even if it meant going in person, even though the phone went unanswered.
After driving to Tendey’s address, she summoned the bravery to knock on the door. Annie inquired, “Tendey?” as she introduced herself to the woman, who then materialized.
The woman answered impatiently and swiftly. Indeed. That’s me, but I’m not interested in being your deity. She added, nearly shutting the door, “I don’t want to buy anything, and I don’t need any services.”
Annie stopped her, though, by throwing up her arm. “Abiona is the focus of this,” she blurted. “At the moment, she is in the hospital. She has a few days to live due to a dangerous genetic illness,” the doctor explained.
Annie assumed Tendey would be horrified, but to her surprise, the woman folded her arms. “I parted with her. voluntarily. gave up parental rights. Thus, I have nothing to do with what is going on right now,” Tendey said icily.
“Please. You are her father’s daughter.” Annie said, “She wants to see you, she’s dying.”
Tendey gave a headshake. “Pay attention. I’d prefer not to see her. Take care of it.”
Annie sighed and looked past Tendey, into her home, and saw something. Do you market fragrances? Is there one that smells like honey?
Tendey responded, “Yeah, yeah,” as she looked confusedly behind her.
Annie inquired, “How much?”
Annie searched on her laptop at home, typing furiously as her scheme came to fruition. Sarah was the actress she was looking for who looked like Tendey. Annie called to give a status update.
Sarah felt moved. “I’ll carry it out.” She remarked, “Even though it seems like an odd request, I can tell it’s love-driven. Annie gave all the information she was aware of on Abiona’s mother.”
The following day, Annie and the actress were ready to grant Abiona her final desire in the hospital room. Drenched in a perfume with a hint of honey aroma, Sarah walked over to the girl’s bedside and held her small hand with caution.
“This is your mother, Abiona,” Annie said kindly.
Abiona readily accepted Annie’s remarks because her condition had gotten so much worse in a single day. The youngster said, “You smell like Mom,” and extended her arms to give him a hug.
Reluctantly, Sarah responded, “It’s because I am Mom.”
Abiona looked across at Annie. She mumbled, “Thank you,” before nodding off once more. When it became apparent that the girl would not wake up anytime soon, Sarah fled.
Annie kept an eye on her daughter as the sun set. Her breathing was too labored, but for the past few hours, that had been the usual. In the silent chamber, where the calm beeping of equipment filled the air, she whispered to her, offering consolation and assurance.
At one point, she felt the overwhelming warmth of the girl’s head. Weakened, Abiona mumbled “Mom” a little before slipping back into oblivion. Annie ran to find her doctor, who entered, gave her a brief checkup, sighed, and bowed his head.
He said, “I’m afraid this might be it.” “I’m sorry.”
Annie sobbed and gave her child a hug. “No!”
In Annie’s arms, Abiona slept a bit more soundly, but love was insufficient sometimes. She breathed her last, gentle exhale around midnight.
Annie said, “You were loved,” as the tears came streaming down her face. So cherished. “I shall always love you.”
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