Dissolved in Ohio:
Chapter Seven
Deteriorating in Russia
The red flag was not only up, it was flying in a strong breeze by the time the Ponishes returned to their hotel room with Natasha after they took her from the Baby Home.
The other BBAS family’s son appeared to be adjusting wonderfully. In a private telephone conversation the wife had with Wendy Stamper (nice how they got telephone calls), Wendy demeaned the Ponishes. “She told them that we were strange because we asked a lot of questions and hadn’t thought enough about this before jumping in.”
Perhaps if the Ponishes had been adequately informed about post-institutionalization disorders before they signed on the dotted line, they would have been able to ask questions before jumping in. But that wasn’t BBAS’s responsibility, was it?
Mrs. Ponish, upon hearing this, told the woman Wendy was unprofessional and bit her tongue about saying more than that about dear, caring Wendy.
We wish Wendy discovers professionalism, empathy and truthfulness now that she has left Building Blocks. God alone knows how badly she hurt clients by stating cruel things like the above.
The next few days the Ponishes and Tucker were witnesses to the full blown array of what of in-utero alcohol abuse and institutionalization can do to a two-year old child.
Natasha started up from the moment she entered the room with screaming and crying without a tear in her eye. She was so hyper, they could not leave their hotel room and eat in the restaurant downstairs.
Her screams were for attention — and to get what she wanted — candy, a toy, food — whatever she saw. Still, no tears would seep from her eyes and she was inconsolable. But when a stranger offered her candy or showed her the least bit of interest, she would accept it, stop screaming, take the candy and turn on her charm. When the object of her desire was given to her, she became quiet for a moment, and then when the stranger was gone, start screaming and screaming again.
Her other actions were self-abusive. She hit her head on the floor repeatedly. She would bite herself, especially her fingers. She gnawed at her fingers so often, they bled. She pulled Tucker’s hair when she could get at his head, and yanked the strands as hard as she could.
If Margaret were nearby, she would slap her with as much force as she could muster in her two-year old body.
She would continually run up and down the room, out into the hallways — everywhere. While she ran, she screamed out of control or as if in fear.
Peter and Margaret were not prepared for this girl’s anger, her issues, her fear. In their years as parents and observing normal children, they had never seen anything like this child. Reactive Attachment Disorder was not in their vocabulary in Russia, so they struggled with what was wrong with her. Natasha wasn’t the sort of girl Jennifer Marando, Denise Hubbard, Wendy Stamper, Tatyana or the translators had told them she would be.
Margaret and Peter were convinced: Natasha was mentally sick. She was not the relatively healthy child they had said they wanted to adopt.