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in America! After college, I took a job at the bank, but continued to look for a job where I could use my education.

      Soon, I became pregnant. We were blessed with our first son, David, whose name means “Beloved by God”. We loved being a young family, ready to assume greater responsibilities. Oleg and I came from large families and had helped our Mothers many times with child care. However, there is a process of growing into a mature parent, that nothing can teach you, except being a parent. I recognized how important it is to have parents who love you, help you, and are willing to share what they know. My parents already had three Granddaughters. David was the first Grandson for both sets of Grandparents, which gave him that special place in their hearts.

      Eighteen months later, our beautiful daughter arrived. We named her Kristina, which means “Anointed, Follower of Christ”. Oleg’s Mother flew in from California to help us for two weeks. She was wonderful, letting me rest, recover and care for Kristina, while she took care of David, prepared meals and maintained the laundry. My Mom helped as much as she could but was limited because she was operating her business as a full-time child care provider.

      When Oleg’s Mom flew back to California, it was my first day alone with two children. I remember sitting on a couch with a crying Kristina and David. I felt like they wanted to show me who could cry louder, each wanting my attention. As a young mother, I didn’t know which child to take care of first, so I also started crying. Yes, it helped, and after couple of minutes, we all calmed down and understood that we were a team and needed to be nice to each other.

      Most of the time, David was nice to Kristina, but sometimes he was jealous and didn’t want to share his Mommy. In the mornings, when they woke up and saw each other, they were so happy, jumping on the bed and hugging each other. It was such a great blessing, seeing our children that God had given us.

      Two months before Kristina was born, we bought our first house, thus Oleg worked more hours to provide additional money for our family. After work, he returned home tired and in need of rest, but the minute he saw David and Kristina, excited to see him, Oleg’s tiredness disappeared. He picked up the children and played with them. Our love as a family and as a couple continued to grow.

      …….

      When Kristina turned one, I decided to look for work. I was lucky. With my first application and first interview, I got a full-time job with the Women, Infants and Children (WIC) program. This became an important and rewarding endeavor in my life. The first four years I worked as a bi-lingual clerk at the front desk. I knew that with my degree I could have found a better job, but I was happy due to four elements: a good team, good pay, good benefits, and close to home. I learned job skills and more. I learned how to handle working relationships with the clients and co-workers, how to be patient, to respect each individual for who they are, and not to impose my personal judgments on others. Experience is a great teacher.

      My Mom watched our children while Oleg and I worked. Often, when I came from work to pick up our children, she gave me freshly prepared food to take home. You just don’t go home as a wife. You have a family to care for, you have a husband and children, and you have to prepare a meal.

      One time, I came to Mom’s house to pick up our children after work. She had just cooked vegetables for the potato salad. It only needed to be cut in pieces and mixed with a dressing. She gave it to me.

      “Take it home and make salad for your family,” she insisted.

      “What about you?” I asked.

      “I can cook more vegetables,” Mom stated emphatically.

      I thanked Mom, got into my car and cried. My Mom, who worked since nearly six o’clock in the morning, has given me her dinner, so I would not have to work as hard. I felt ashamed that I was not ready yet to do what she did. Thank you, Mom, for your loving heart!

      …….

      The children were growing and were so different. With curly hair and dimples on his cheeks, David looked a lot like my Dad. With blond curly hair and big blue eyes Kristina looked more like Oleg. David was neat and liked to play alone. But Kristina was the happiest and bravest child on earth and needed company. When they were growing up, they were such funny children.

      One time my Mom was crying. David came up to her and said, “Grandma, don’t cry. I will buy you some ice cream.”

      One evening, Kristina and I sat on a swing. She saw the moon and asked, “Mom, what is it?” “The moon,” I said. “Can I take it home?” Kristina asked. She thought she could reach the moon.

      Kristina loved ripping flowers and giving them to me. She would rip flowers in our garden, in our neighbor’s garden, by the church, and I had to teach her where she could rip flowers and where she could not.

      Oleg’s birthday was coming up. “What present should we buy for Daddy?” I asked. “Chips and Pepsi!” Kristina said excited. “No, our Dad loves coffee!” David said seriously.

      One evening Oleg came home late from work. David was already sleeping. Then I realized – it was too quiet, which meant that Kristina was creating trouble. Quietly I walked to the kitchen and saw her with scissors in her hands. Her beautiful curly blond hair was already cut off and on the floor. I didn’t know how to react – to cry or to scream at her? With a wide-opened mouth I was speechless… I hugged her, put her to bed and took her to a hair dresser the next morning. Those beautiful curls are still in Kristina’s baby book.

      

      Our firstborn, David       Our daughter, Kristina

      …….

      When Kristina was four years old, I became pregnant for the third time. After my ultrasound, I received a phone call from my doctor, while I was at work.

      “I don’t like your ultrasound results, Olga,” the doctor announced. “It shows that your baby boy could have Down’s syndrome, Trisomy 18 or Spinal Bifida. Olga, your child may be born very ill, not able to walk, and not even look like a normal person. Come in to do more testing.”

      After I hung up the phone, my hands were sweaty and shaky, and tears covered my eyes. Good thing no one saw my pale face. I couldn’t concentrate or tell anyone the terrible news. How could I? “I will have an ill child? It can’t happen to me.”

      After few minutes, I calmed dawn, walked to my supervisor’s office and asked for permission to leave work and see the doctor. She let me. It isn’t safe to drive, when you are scared and can’t concentrate, but I drove to the doctor’s office.

      “Olga, we can do an amniocentesis test to make sure the ultrasound results are correct,” the doctor said.

      “How do you perform this test?” I asked.

      “With a needle we will poke your stomach and will take a small amount of amniotic fluid to check for genetic abnormalities. We don’t have to do it today. You can talk to your husband and let us know of your decision.”

      The doctor gave me a brochure with this information. I spoke with Oleg at home. He was calm, but I worried.

      “Our child is healthy. Everything will be okay,” he said.

      In the brochure I read that there is a 60% miscarriage chance after this test. I called the doctor.

      “We will not do this test,” I said. “Even if you did the test and it was abnormal, we would still not abort the baby. We know abortion is a sin, and we love our baby so much. We will pray, and God will help us.”

      Oleg didn’t show that he worried, but I did. I couldn’t calm down. Being pregnant, I still had to continue working, drive children to Mom’s house in early mornings, pick them up after work, clean, cook and take care of the children. At night I would wake up at 2 or 3 A.M. and pray to God, begging Him to heal our baby. Only Mom, one of my sister and few friends knew about this problem. I was embarrassed to tell this news to someone or ask for prayers. I kept it all to myself. “How can I go back to work and show him to my co-workers? How can I show a disabled child to my friends and family? What

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