Poppy as a Pretty Princess.

Poppy in a Pretty Dress


Poppy isn’t feeling so hot lately, but her foster home encourages her to get up and play every once in awhile.  I love that.  They obviously love dressing her up as well.  We have a good picture of her playing in the ball pit, but then after that, they all kind of look like this.  Some of them look worse.  I try not to post her at her very worst.  I wouldn’t want anyone doing that to me, so I have to figure she would feel the same way.  I know people are curious though, and I want to walk that line between advocating for kids like Poppy and pushing her into a spotlight she’ll later regret standing in.  This is the same reason I don’t post pics of Dolly’s incisions or surgical sites immediately post-op.  I know it’s a curiosity to people, but to me, she deserves a Mom who protects her privacy.

My heart hurts for my girl, but as odd as it sounds, it hurts a lot more for the children whose parents aren’t getting any pictures of their worst.  Dolly laid in a bed for two years, slowly dying of heart disease.  In fact, when she was handed to me, they were allowing to live with untreated pneumonia because they were “waiting for her to die.”  I like to think they weren’t doing it out of malice.  They didn’t wish her harm.  The orphanage is very matter of fact about putting their resources into the children who stand a chance of surviving.  They didn’t believe Dolly did, and they didn’t want her to be a burden to me.  In all honesty, I’m lucky they didn’t try to block her adoption and tell me to choose another child.  It happens.

While Poppy is in pain, she has someone who gets her out of bed during her good days, dresses her up and allows her to explore the world around her.  There are so many kids who don’t have that.  Dolly was one of them.   While Poppy’s situation looks pathetic (and it is, we’re moving as fast as humanly possible to get to her), there are kids lying in beds pale as ghosts because no one is giving them lifesaving transfusions, there are kids with CP confined to chairs that don’t move with buckets under them to pee into because there aren’t enough staff to help them move, and there are babies like Dolly who people are just allowing to die because they aren’t a priority.  Those kids keep me awake at night.  I love my baby girl, and I love the rest of the world around me for loving her too.  It moves me to tears.  But, it’s the unseen children that I hurt for.

I hurt for all the mamas and daddies who don’t get the pictures of their children at their worst, because that likely means that their worst is something the orphanage doesn’t want them to see.  I hurt for the children whose pain will go unknown.  I hurt for the ones who will die alone.  This is why I often seem so matter of fact about our Poppy and her pain.

–FullPlateMom, who knows it could be far worse.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: