My Journey to Becoming a Father, Part 2 of 5

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This is a lightly edited transcription of a hand-written journal I kept while adopting my son in Colombia back in 1993.

Part 1, if you missed it.

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2 July
Our trip to La Rochela started off with a drive through Bogotá and its outskirts during a torrential downpour. It turns out that much of Bogotá doesn’t have storm sewers - during uncommonly heavy rains the streets turn into not so shallow lakes. We drove past a university that looked more like a medium-security prison than a playground for intellectuals. After crossing the Bogotá savanna which is cattle country we entered another chain of mountains which have stunning scenery and people living in poverty. After about two hours we arrived at La Rochela which is an island of affluence. Comfortable cabins surrounded by orange, banana, and coconut trees with a stream running through and peacocks roaming the grounds which are surrounded by a formidable fence.

3 July 93
While lounging on the veranda, I heard what appeared to me to be automatic gunfire coming from the hills. None of the Colombians near me even raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was just firecrackers.

4 July 93
Mary was sick last night and most of the day possibly from the food or water but I feel fine and we’ve eaten the same meals. In the morning at least a dozen families went south along the dirt road just outside the fence carrying loads of bananas on horses and donkeys into market. Wish I’d brought along a small pair of binoculars—all the birds are new to me and there are constellations that can’t be seen from the States.

5 July 93
Took a trip into the town of La Vega today to go shopping. Today being a holiday in Colombia (Feast of Saint Peter and Saint Paul) it was market day again (yesterday was Sunday) and the town was full of people selling the local produce. There were many small cafes and restaurants, knickknack stores and even a well-stocked electronics shop, something I naïvely wouldn’t have expected in a small town in rural Colombia. One of the stores I went into had both regular brown chicken eggs and much smaller multi-colored eggs that I couldn’t identify. Rita and her kids left for Bogotá today. They have to go to court tomorrow to sign the final papers.

6 July 93
Returned to Bogotá. Along the way saw a shrine by the side of the road—a Virgin Mary surrounded by forty or fifty headlights. It would have been a great picture, but not worth the risk that Carlos might think that I was belittling his religion. About twenty kilometers outside of Bogotá saw a coal mine which had the mine entrance less than five feet from the edge of the road. It looked like a mom and pop operation; the kid who was crawling into the shaft as we drove by couldn’t have been more that twelve.

7/7/93
When I see a maid in our hotel I often think of Nathaniel Miguel’s birthmother. All that we know about her is that she’s a 19 year old maid with a fourth grade education, and when she found out she was pregnant she told her boyfriend, a day laborer. He then informed her that he was married and had two children. She decided to make an adoption plan. When her child was born, she named him Miguel Angel Rodriguez Muñoz and the next day signed papers to make him legally adoptable. Under Colombian law, it is a crime for us to make any attempt to contact her. When Nathaniel turns 18, it’s legal for him to try.

8 July 93
There was a small item in the paper about guerrillas having killed two soldiers in the northeastern part of the country. One of the soldiers was named Lord Byron Rodriquez Granados.

9 Jul 93
Took a tour of a coffee plantation today in Fusagasuá. Interesting to see the stages of production of something so central to my life. On the way back from the plantation saw a large sign pointing up a side road to a Hare Krishna temple. In the two weeks we’ve been here I’ve seen numerous dogs but not a single cat.

10 Jul 93
Miguel had a fever during the night and again during the day. It’s frustrating being a first time parent with a sick baby thousands of miles from your family doctor. But his temp dropped late in the day, so we’re relieved.

11 Jul 93
Nathaniel was better early in the day but at around 2pm had what I can only describe as a seizure. His eyes rolled back and he was unresponsive for about 15 seconds. The doctor from Ayudame (we have physical custody but not yet legal custody) prescribed Cataflam and we’re to see her again tomorrow.

12 Jul 93
Miguel’s temperature was high during the night. Doctor at Ayudame checked him at noon and said his lungs were clear and to continue with the medication. He got much worse in the afternoon, having another seizure. Day from hell. At four we took him to the Clínica del Country hospital. Drove by taxi and the driver was told to get there as fast as possible. Trip was like something out of a Fellini film—a half-crazed driver going top speed through rush hour traffic with blaring salsa music on the radio. All that was missing was a dwarf wearing a funny hat dancing on the hood. Nate had a third seizure in the taxi. At least two near collisions on my side of the car, possibly others that I didn’t see. Caring doctors and nurses at the emergency room. They suspected bronchial pneumonia (so much for the clear lungs we had been assured of) and ordered X-rays. Stood in X-ray room with him while pics were taken, no shielding provided for parents. Zap! After several hours of waiting they confirmed bronchial pneumonia and said that he should be admitted. Five minutes later they said that they didn’t have any rooms available.

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Off to the second hospital, Fundacion Santa Fe de Bogotá where he was to be admitted. While Mary was in the emergency room with Miguel I was upfront trying to get approval for my credit card over the ever chancey Colombian phone system. From the emergency room came a blood curdling scream that could cut through ten-foot-thick titanium steel walls. Rather than being Nathaniel, it was from a little girl having blood drawn. Nathaniel Miguel was admitted and we went back to the hotel to get the first decent night’s sleep in several days.

13 July
Test results show that in addition to bronchial pneumonia, he has a kidney infection. We spent most of the day at the hospital pushing our limited Spanish as far as we could. A few of the staff spoke a bit of English. If we ever adopt in Colombia again I’ll be sure to get as close to fluency as I can before coming again. We took a break and went across the street to Hacienda Santa Barbara, a shopping mall that’s more upscale than many in the United States. If you have money, life can be very comfortable in Bogotá.

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There’s a new couple here, from Denmark. During dinner the woman spoke Danish to her husband, Spanish to her children, English to us, and French to the couple from Brittany.

Bastille Day
Nathaniel had a test in the nuclear medicine department requiring total immobility so he was sedated. Gorked for the rest of the day. We met a woman who we’d seen at the first hospital on the 12th. Coincidentally, her daughter was being tested at the same nuclear medicine station. Had a lengthy conversation with a neurologist whose English is much better than our Spanish who will be examining Miguel tomorrow after the sedative has totally worn off. We may have to schedule an MRI. Today’s exchange rate was 782.

15 de Julio 93
The neurologist was pleased with the results of his exam. We are however getting conflicting information from the other doctors. It seems that the pneumonia is no longer cause for concern—the main problem is Miguel's left kidney. Went shopping today at the Hacienda but left by a different exit than before. Right across the street from this upscale mall, in a city of six million, cattle were grazing.

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Post beneficiaries:
5% - @bubke
5% - @null

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9 comments
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Wow! what a story. I hope your son is doing well now.

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This is an amazing account of your trip to adopt. I can't imagine the horror of his being so sick in a country that sounds super scary to begin with, at least to me. Trying to navigate stuff that is far easier to navigate where I now live. How old is Miguel at this point? I'm imagining an infant. And you call him Miguel, not Nathaniel?

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Thanks, Nate’s now 27. Parts 3–5 will be posted on subsequent Sundays.

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no no I meant in the story, how old was the child then?

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When I first held Nate, he was just over two months old.

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Oh my gosh so this was a very young baby! I would have been a wreck. Well done Dad!

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Bueno se sabe que el esfuerzo que has hecho tuvo su fruto, gracias por compartir.

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Oh my gosh, this is intense. I'm so glad you kept these diaries. I wish I had been doing so all of my life! So many things have transpired that would make amazing blogs or stories now. I'm really enjoying reading about your early days with baby Nate!

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