By Shonna Korsmoe
Murphy News Service
“She’ll never amount to anything.”
“She’s very disabled, she’ll never function as an adult.”
This is what Eugene and Becky Wangerin were told when they met their daughter, Alina, for the first time in a Ukrainian orphanage.
“That was their perception of her,” Becky Wangerin remembered from her Becker, Minn. living room. “They really thought that she would not amount to anything.”
Little Alina has proved her Ukrainian nannies wrong.
Now 7 years old and home for three and a half years, Alina is walking, talking, going to school and playing just like any other girl her age.
Alina has cerebral palsy, a developmental disorder that affects her movement and muscle development, and can also affect cognition. She also has hydrocephalus, a build-up of cerebral fluid in the brain.
Alina chatters happily to herself and reads a book she pulled out of her backpack on the way to physical therapy after school, a twice-weekly affair. Her 2-year-old sister, Anna, also adopted from Ukraine, smiles serenely and stares out the window next to her.
Wangerin helps Alina out of her booster seat once they’ve arrived, and off Alina goes on her crutches toward the entrance.
Alina is no stranger to hospitals. Since she’s been home, she’s had three major surgeries and numerous medical procedures and tests.
Alina and Anna happily color and look as comfortable in the waiting room they would at home. Anna, who also has cerebral palsy, gets physical therapy here as well.
At last, Miss Cathi, as the girls know her, comes out to bring Alina back. Alina notices that Miss Cathi has had her hair cut and colored, and then heads toward the long hallway that will lead her back to physical therapy.
She starts off walking forward and backward on a treadmill, and then working on core and leg strength while putting a puzzle together. Alina is giggly and chatty the whole time and Miss Cathi has to work to keep her focused. Seeing Alina now, few would believe where she started out.
A friend turned them onto international adoption after domestic fostering and adoption didn’t pan out for the Wangerins. Becky found Alina’s photo while browsing adoption websites.
“We committed to her in June of 2010, and we traveled in September to get her,” Wangerin said. “It went really fast.”
Alina’s new parents were full of mixed emotions upon meeting her for the first time, after a long flight to Kiev and an overnight train to Alina’s region
“It was pretty surreal, driving up to an orphanage for the first time,” Wangerin said.
It was love at first sight, Wangerin said, when they first laid eyes on Alina.
“It was just instant, we knew she was ours. She looked up at us and it was like she knew as well. She looked up, and she smiled, and then she kind of shied away,” Wangerin said, adding, “I walked over to her and sat down and we started playing and she leaned over at me and she said, ‘Hi.’ This really quiet little ‘hi’ in English! It was so sweet.”
Caretakers at the orphanage warned Alina’s parents that although she was beautiful, her disabilities would cause her to be a lifelong burden. In Ukraine, there is a pervasive negative cultural attitude toward people with disabilities. Because of a lack of information, many Ukrainians believe that disabled children cannot learn or become productive members of society. As a result, orphanages known as ‘baby house’ are filled with unwanted Ukrainian children with disabilities.
Alina had received little physical or mental stimulation in the Ukrainian orphanage. She spent most of her day lying in a crib. No one tried to teach her anything—not how to walk, talk, or feed herself.
But once home in the states, Alina thrived.
Three-year-old Alina learned to sit up on her own within a few days of being home, a skill her Ukrainian nannies had never bothered teaching her. She also quickly learned English. In less than a year she could hold a conversation.
The Wangerins cherished their time teaching Alina things that every toddler should know, such as what her body could do.
“She didn’t know what her nose was for, didn’t know what her ears were for. It was l all foreign to her. And it was appalling to us that a 3½ -year-old didn’t know these things,” Wangerin said. “But it was also fun for us to be able to teach her these things. It was a big part of bonding for us.”
Back at home after physical therapy Alina happily calls out greetings to her older brothers, Alexander and Anthony. She refers to them as ‘my boys.’ She leaves her crutches by the door and climbs up the stairs unassisted.
Alina fit right in with the family as soon as she came home, Wangerin said
“As far as attachment goes, she was like a model kid. She came home and took ownership of everyone like she’d always been here, and we were always coming,” Wangerin said. “She never once questioned if we were taking her back, or (if) somebody was coming to get her.”
“She asks a lot of questions now about her birth mom or why she doesn’t live in Ukraine anymore, but it’s mostly lots of developmental stuff. She’s kind of getting to that point where her brain can understand these things,” Wangerin added. “She’ll conjure up a memory and she’ll be like, ‘Do you remember that?’ ‘Nope, that was when you were in Ukraine, that was before I knew where you were.’ And she’ll be like, ‘Oh yeah, that was with a nanny at my old house.’ “
The Wangerins realized that Alina, as she found her voice, had memories of her time ‘before.’ Alina, for instance, recalls that she didn’t like the baths, but her bed was comfortable.
Wangerin said sometimes Alina’s recollections are confusing. Alina, for instance, told her mom that when she was sick, they took her to a man’s house and put a mattress on her and left her there. Wangerin clarified that it was a hospital, not a man’s house, and that the mattress was a heavy blanket. However, her caretakers did leave Alina alone in the hospital as a toddler.
“She doesn’t show any remorse for her time in Ukraine,” Wangerin said. “Again, she’s only 7; those things might come when she gets more mature. But I’ve always been really open with her. If she had a question, we would answer it the best we could.”
Alina said she likes to play ball and go shopping for food and toys. She also said her bed and bath time are much better here, and she adores her little sister, Anna.
Alina’s progress has so stunned her caretakers back in Ukraine that they have hung a photo of her in the entryway of the orphanage. They have also started physical therapy in the orphanage with some of the kids – a huge step, Wangerin said.
Wangerin also said Alina’s success has inspired other families to look into special needs adoption.
“Once they see the kids, hear them, watch them grow and change and learn, it changes people.”
Shonna Korsmoe is studying journalism at the University of Minnesota.