Where did it all go wrong. Obviously, if it takes a village to raise a child, I am not responsible; however, there is still a fleeting sense of questioning. "Wrong" is probably too judgemental and the outcome remains to be seeen; so, I will stay hopeful. Here's the story.
I have been taking care of a family for over 7 years. They have had numerous ups and downs, including but not limited to: an infant that died of genetic problems, lack of money, living in a poor, violence ravaged neighborhood, history of substance abuse and multiple children all with varying fathers. Nonetheless, the mother has kept trying and continuously seeks to improve.
B, one of the middle children, has been coming to me for her medical care since she was 10 years old. We had the puberty talk and the safe sex talk, almost every visit! We talked about being safe and taking care and HIV and consequences. I met her boyfriend and we talked about birth control......
Yesterday, now 17 year old B and her boyfriend came in with their new baby Ana. I felt the immediate deep sense of hapiness whenever I see a newborn. The feeling was drowned out by the myriad questions racing through my mind. How will this seedling new family break the family cycles of lower socio-economic-status? How will they be able to raise this child and teach her that life can be different? Could any amount of health education in the clinic prevented B's choices? His job at Jamba juice and her job at the Hair Salon isn't going to help pay for Ana's expenses; how will they cope?
Yet, B and her boyfriend entrusted me to take care of this new little person and were so full of hope and naive expressions of fear and faith. It was all going to be okay they told me. Each of them had chaotic childhoods and the boyfriend had raised himself, so he is going to be there for the baby. He's not sure what marriage means, but he is going to help take care of Ana. B is going back to school next month and Ana can go with her to the free daycare. They are going to start a savings account this week.
With a heavy heart, I said a silent prayer that Ana would indeed have a different childhood than her parents had. For a moment, I let myself believe in the young optimism of B and her boyfriend. If your children have children, you become a grand-parent; so when my patient became a mother, I become a grand-doctor. Now there is triple the care in an appointment. For Ana, her mother and her father.
I'll just hope and see. I did whisper in Ana's ear to make sure she waited to have sex and always used a condom. You can't start too early!
