|My son, demonstrating a true Russian medical exam?|
Finding a doctor when adopting, especially your first, is kind of a strange experience. The adoption process is very non-medical- unless you count our (in huge quotations) "medical exam" in country on our last trip. It's not like being pregnant and regularly seeing your midwife or OB and then seamlessly transitioning to a pediatrician. It feels very abrupt to me. We'll be bringing our son home and rejoicing in his arrival and then bringing him away to get stuck with needles and have a cold stethoscope put down his back.
I think I have an idea- however misguided- that having your baby's newborn exam is a special thing, a time to rejoice in her perfection- while bringing in our adopted son will be sort of nerve wracking, wondering how the past 2.5 years of medical care have helped or hurt him. Actually as I write this I'm thinking to myself that biological parents probably worry a bit about that first exam too, so this is probably just a new mom thing.
In any case- it was a bit strange, but also a moment to be proud. When I was first welcomed in by the nurse practitioner she asked me how long I'd lived in the area.
"About two years now."
"Oh... are you transferring from another practice?"
"Oh! No. We're adopting our son!"
The fact that he's two throws people off. But I LOVE getting to say that we're adopting because I'm so proud of our little man. I was even lame and brought pictures to
Then she gave me that typical response of, "Oh what a lucky little boy!" and I smile, but really I want to just say that's we're the lucky ones. My son doesn't get to grow up with his birth parents and he has had to live two and a half years in an orphanage, so I don't really think he's that lucky. But us- yes, we're lucky. Or blessed, as I prefer to say. To fetch this little boy from a far way land and call ourselves his mom and dad. To revel in his childhood and watch him grow. To love him and be loved in return. John and I- we are the blessed ones in this adoption.
After a brief intro from the nurse practitioner, the doctor comes in and she greets me warmly. I pull out the long list of questions I brought with me and she answers confidently through them all. The NP comes back in to finish the session, which ends up being an hour long.
It's a good fit. The practice seems very hardcore "medicine" and not at all "homeopathic," which honestly is where I tend to lean, but since we're bringing home an institutionalized two year old and not a healthy newborn, I'm all give-me-the-very-best-medicine-you-got. If I want to soothe his sore throat with honey I'll look it up on pinterest. (Just kidding homeopathic friends, I know it's more than that!)
This practice was also very "we immunize on schedule and we don't mess around." And I was all, "But I read this on the internetz about those," and the NP was all, "I will send you ten thousand links to prove my point." And I was all, "Well you don't mess around and here's my email address and I love that you aren't giving me any BS and woah I'm sorry I just hugged you."
Not really, but I love a confidant woman and this lady was it. And I really do want to read that info about vaccines because woah there's a ton of (mis)information out there.
So in the end, their no BS approach won me over and I made our first appointment while grinning like an idiot because I got to tell someone "official" my son's name and birth date like it was no big deal, because he's my son and moms know these kinds of things.
One more thing checked off my list, mom-style. Bringing my kid to the doctor y'all. No big deal.