The dream of every parent is to have a healthy baby, but this does not always turn out to be the case.
After three years of living together, my mother got pregnant. It was nothing to worry about. The
due date arrived, in August 1972, and she was taken to a public hospital in Bani, a couple of minutes
away from home. Bani is located in the south of the Dominican Republic. My mother had all the
symptoms of being in childbirth, yet she spent around twenty-four hours in the hospital before I was
born.
According to the doctor, the left side of my brain was affected due to the delay. A couple of months
after I was born, I was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. From the doctor’s point of view, the
expectation for recovery was very poor. Despite all the dire predictions my parents didn’t give up.
We lived in a poor country, where there were not enough resources and very little information about
CP. My parents didn’t give up or deny what was going on, instead they had the support of their
family and so they decided to carry on.
My parents started to research how to get help and were able to obtain information about a few
resources that were available in Santo Domingo, the Dominican Republic capitol. My father used to
work as a car driver, driving back and forth from Bani to Santo Domingo, so he was familiar with the
city. I was just a few months old when I started to receive medical treatment and therapy. Papi drove
me and Mami to the only rehabilitation center that existed, until there was a new center in Bani. They
had to pay for the services.
My father was the only one who was working and my mother was a stay-at-home mom. He didn’t
make a lot of money but they managed to pay the doctor bills, therapy bills, and to pay for the
medication and the special shoes or boats that I had to wear. If for some reason they couldn’t afford it,
my father’s parents helped with the expenses.
All the things that a baby starts doing at a certain age, I started to do later, such as eating by myself
and using the bathroom. For example, I started to walk when I was three. However, before I was
able to do all of this, it was a long process and all my achievements were probably thanks to the
perseverance and the efforts of my parents and my father’s mother. I used to have physical therapy,
occupational, and speech therapy. My parents were trained to help me with the therapy sessions at
home
Papi’s mother also helped me through this process. She didn’t have a degree in a health field, but she
knew a lot about homemade remedies. She made a remedy with cooking oil which she used to put
on my knees that would help my tendons to relax. By the time that I was nine or ten, I did some of
the therapy on my own.
I consider myself to be lucky. Papi has always given all his support to Mami, and he has never
blamed Mami because of what happened to me. I know of many cases where the marriage broke
down, and the father blamed the mother because the child had special needs. Sometimes, in cases of
Hispanic chauvinistic male bias, a father rejects the idea of having a child with CP or some other
disability. There are also some cases where the entire family feels embarrassed at having a family
member with special needs. Still worse, in some cases even the mother refuses to accept the situation.
Or, either parent may think that their child’s condition is punishment for something that he or she did
wrong in the past. Fortunately, this was not my case.
While I was growing up, I couldn’t attend a traditional school. Special education, or services to teach
a child with CP, didn’t exist in the DR. Once in a while in the early morning, I stood by the door.
Quietly, I observed the kids passing by who were wearing their uniforms and carrying their books on
the way to school. I felt like an outsider. Everyone in the family had to work or go to school. My
schedule was empty, and somehow I had to fill it with the things that I was able to do.
I had to wake up before eight in the morning, after which I made my bed and had breakfast. I
helped with the housework like doing the dishes, watering the plants, and sweeping the backyard. I
spent the rest of the day playing games, listening to the radio, and watching TV.
For two years Mami ran a little store inside of the house, which is typical for women in the DR. That
way she was able to make some money while she was at home. She sold clothing, mostly women’s
underwear and stockings, and linens for the bed. I used to help out, just for a couple hours, and for
me it was a nice experience. The only thing I did was to let Mami know when a customer arrived, but
at least I had something to do.
The relationship between myself and my brothers was a typical one among brothers and sisters. I am
the oldest of three children and the only girl. Fighting, as well as games, were part of our daily lives.
When my two brothers did something bad to me, even a simple thing such as taking my dolls, I acted
like a cat, scratching them on any part of their bodies including the face. Being four years older than
Christian, and six years older than Esteban, I took advantage of the age difference. My mother acted
like the member of a rescue team, paying close attention to my nails and cutting them as soon as they
started to grow.
One of Mami’s sisters, Soris, lived with us, and I was so jealous of the relationship between them!
Mami talked with her from a mature point of view, since she was a few years older than me, and told
her things I was not allowed to know because of my age.
I admit that I gave Soris a hard time. I used to argue with her over simple things like watching TV
shows or listening to radio stations, since we had only one TV and one radio. Looking back, maybe it
wasn’t my fault. After all, nobody taught me how to look at her as my sister, only like an aunt.
Some of the happiest days of my life was when me, my mother, my brothers and Soris, used to go to
the countryside to visit Mami’s parents. We used to go one or two times a month, and usually we
stayed the entire day. Papi used to drive us and if he couldn’t take us, we used public transportation
like the bus if it was running.
The countryside was called Rioarriba, and it was fifteen or twenty minutes from the city of Bani. My
grandparent’s house was located up in a little hill, the house was to the right of the hill and a river was
to the left. Between the hill and the river was the road. Sometimes we were able to go through the hill
by car, but during those days when it was raining and the hills turned out to be very bad to drive, we
had to walk in order to get to the house.
The house was small but there was a huge backyard with roosters, dogs, a cow, and a goat.
Surrounding the house were platanos, mangoes, and lemons. Grandpa used his donkey as
transportation. Once in a while, we went to the river to swim with my abuelo [grandpa]. I enjoyed
spending time with him, sitting on his lap while grandma was making Sancocho for lunch using the
meat of a goat that Abuelo had chosen early in the morning.
One of the best memories that I have of Abuelo is seeing him on his donkey, machete on his wrist, on
his way to the city to sell the products from his farm. Abuelo didn’t like to live in the city, and the
only time he did was when he moved to Paterson, New Jersey. But he only lived there for six or seven
years.
Another reason I enjoyed going to the countryside was because I played with my mother’s nieces.
My aunt Juana has five daughters and three sons, and they used to live near my grandparent’s
house. For me, playing with them was like being in the world of girls. With my brothers, I couldn’t
play the same games that girls usually play. Even if I played a combination of girl’s and boy’s games
with them, it was still not the same. In the beginning, I had played with Soris. But since she was a
little older than me, we came to play less often. Me and my cousins, however, played under the
guatapana tree, pretending that we were a nuclear family. Through it all, I was able to enjoy my
childhood.
After three years of living together, my mother got pregnant. It was nothing to worry about. The
due date arrived, in August 1972, and she was taken to a public hospital in Bani, a couple of minutes
away from home. Bani is located in the south of the Dominican Republic. My mother had all the
symptoms of being in childbirth, yet she spent around twenty-four hours in the hospital before I was
born.
According to the doctor, the left side of my brain was affected due to the delay. A couple of months
after I was born, I was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. From the doctor’s point of view, the
expectation for recovery was very poor. Despite all the dire predictions my parents didn’t give up.
We lived in a poor country, where there were not enough resources and very little information about
CP. My parents didn’t give up or deny what was going on, instead they had the support of their
family and so they decided to carry on.
My parents started to research how to get help and were able to obtain information about a few
resources that were available in Santo Domingo, the Dominican Republic capitol. My father used to
work as a car driver, driving back and forth from Bani to Santo Domingo, so he was familiar with the
city. I was just a few months old when I started to receive medical treatment and therapy. Papi drove
me and Mami to the only rehabilitation center that existed, until there was a new center in Bani. They
had to pay for the services.
My father was the only one who was working and my mother was a stay-at-home mom. He didn’t
make a lot of money but they managed to pay the doctor bills, therapy bills, and to pay for the
medication and the special shoes or boats that I had to wear. If for some reason they couldn’t afford it,
my father’s parents helped with the expenses.
All the things that a baby starts doing at a certain age, I started to do later, such as eating by myself
and using the bathroom. For example, I started to walk when I was three. However, before I was
able to do all of this, it was a long process and all my achievements were probably thanks to the
perseverance and the efforts of my parents and my father’s mother. I used to have physical therapy,
occupational, and speech therapy. My parents were trained to help me with the therapy sessions at
home
Papi’s mother also helped me through this process. She didn’t have a degree in a health field, but she
knew a lot about homemade remedies. She made a remedy with cooking oil which she used to put
on my knees that would help my tendons to relax. By the time that I was nine or ten, I did some of
the therapy on my own.
I consider myself to be lucky. Papi has always given all his support to Mami, and he has never
blamed Mami because of what happened to me. I know of many cases where the marriage broke
down, and the father blamed the mother because the child had special needs. Sometimes, in cases of
Hispanic chauvinistic male bias, a father rejects the idea of having a child with CP or some other
disability. There are also some cases where the entire family feels embarrassed at having a family
member with special needs. Still worse, in some cases even the mother refuses to accept the situation.
Or, either parent may think that their child’s condition is punishment for something that he or she did
wrong in the past. Fortunately, this was not my case.
While I was growing up, I couldn’t attend a traditional school. Special education, or services to teach
a child with CP, didn’t exist in the DR. Once in a while in the early morning, I stood by the door.
Quietly, I observed the kids passing by who were wearing their uniforms and carrying their books on
the way to school. I felt like an outsider. Everyone in the family had to work or go to school. My
schedule was empty, and somehow I had to fill it with the things that I was able to do.
I had to wake up before eight in the morning, after which I made my bed and had breakfast. I
helped with the housework like doing the dishes, watering the plants, and sweeping the backyard. I
spent the rest of the day playing games, listening to the radio, and watching TV.
For two years Mami ran a little store inside of the house, which is typical for women in the DR. That
way she was able to make some money while she was at home. She sold clothing, mostly women’s
underwear and stockings, and linens for the bed. I used to help out, just for a couple hours, and for
me it was a nice experience. The only thing I did was to let Mami know when a customer arrived, but
at least I had something to do.
The relationship between myself and my brothers was a typical one among brothers and sisters. I am
the oldest of three children and the only girl. Fighting, as well as games, were part of our daily lives.
When my two brothers did something bad to me, even a simple thing such as taking my dolls, I acted
like a cat, scratching them on any part of their bodies including the face. Being four years older than
Christian, and six years older than Esteban, I took advantage of the age difference. My mother acted
like the member of a rescue team, paying close attention to my nails and cutting them as soon as they
started to grow.
One of Mami’s sisters, Soris, lived with us, and I was so jealous of the relationship between them!
Mami talked with her from a mature point of view, since she was a few years older than me, and told
her things I was not allowed to know because of my age.
I admit that I gave Soris a hard time. I used to argue with her over simple things like watching TV
shows or listening to radio stations, since we had only one TV and one radio. Looking back, maybe it
wasn’t my fault. After all, nobody taught me how to look at her as my sister, only like an aunt.
Some of the happiest days of my life was when me, my mother, my brothers and Soris, used to go to
the countryside to visit Mami’s parents. We used to go one or two times a month, and usually we
stayed the entire day. Papi used to drive us and if he couldn’t take us, we used public transportation
like the bus if it was running.
The countryside was called Rioarriba, and it was fifteen or twenty minutes from the city of Bani. My
grandparent’s house was located up in a little hill, the house was to the right of the hill and a river was
to the left. Between the hill and the river was the road. Sometimes we were able to go through the hill
by car, but during those days when it was raining and the hills turned out to be very bad to drive, we
had to walk in order to get to the house.
The house was small but there was a huge backyard with roosters, dogs, a cow, and a goat.
Surrounding the house were platanos, mangoes, and lemons. Grandpa used his donkey as
transportation. Once in a while, we went to the river to swim with my abuelo [grandpa]. I enjoyed
spending time with him, sitting on his lap while grandma was making Sancocho for lunch using the
meat of a goat that Abuelo had chosen early in the morning.
One of the best memories that I have of Abuelo is seeing him on his donkey, machete on his wrist, on
his way to the city to sell the products from his farm. Abuelo didn’t like to live in the city, and the
only time he did was when he moved to Paterson, New Jersey. But he only lived there for six or seven
years.
Another reason I enjoyed going to the countryside was because I played with my mother’s nieces.
My aunt Juana has five daughters and three sons, and they used to live near my grandparent’s
house. For me, playing with them was like being in the world of girls. With my brothers, I couldn’t
play the same games that girls usually play. Even if I played a combination of girl’s and boy’s games
with them, it was still not the same. In the beginning, I had played with Soris. But since she was a
little older than me, we came to play less often. Me and my cousins, however, played under the
guatapana tree, pretending that we were a nuclear family. Through it all, I was able to enjoy my
childhood.
| My Childhood by Juana M. Ortiz |
| Copyright © 2010 |
Quiet Mountain Essays
| Contributor's Notes... |
Juana M. Ortiz graduated with an associate degree in Liberal Arts. She worked as editor, staff writer, and
reporter for her college newspaper, Visions, and for Silk City Journal. Her poems, articles, haiku, personal
essays, and translations have appeared in Silk City Journal, Visions, Paterson Literary Review, Pioneer
Times and Mi Revista.
