Olga Stoyanova is an AHF client advocate. Her story is next in our “I Am AHF” series featuring remarkable staff, clients, and partners who are doing what’s right to save lives everyday.
Everyone has a moment in life when it becomes divided into “before” and “after.” For me, that moment came at the age of 18. I was five months pregnant when I was diagnosed with HIV.
I was full of hope, feeling like the whole world was at my feet—after all, life had just begun. A baby was on the way, and I was doing routine health checks. I had no health problems, and it made no sense why I would need to travel across the city for a repeat HIV test after receiving the initial results. Surely, there must have been some mistake. The doctors explained the situation to me, but I couldn’t believe it—it was impossible, especially now, at five months pregnant.
I was comforted by the thought that sometimes test results during pregnancy could be mistaken. I was prescribed some pills, which I took. No one knew about this situation except my husband, who reacted rather calmly. After a conversation, we simply started using condoms. However, he refused to take an HIV test himself.
Our relationship was passionate but short-lived. He was imprisoned for theft, and after being sad for a while, I eventually focused on my studies, work, and adult life.
I was born in Odesa, in a well-educated family with a mother who was a philologist and a father who was an engineer. My mother was always involved in social activities, holding positions in organizations that supported large families, cultural heritage, or educational initiatives. In the 1990s, she organized lectures on topics such as AIDS awareness, among others.
My mother shared interesting stories with my sister and me about relationships and even the different forms of love between people. At the time, I was a teenager, so I absorbed this information quite superficially.
I did well in school and had the image of a “good girl.” However, in my final year, I started to worry about why I still didn’t have a boyfriend—I was smart and attractive, after all. As if by request, he appeared. He was a much older “bad boy.” For me, it was my first experience of romantic feelings, and even the fact that he occasionally used drugs didn’t bother me.
I was placed in isolation, and no one was allowed to see me for over a week. I was forbidden from breastfeeding my baby.
In 2000, I gave a birth to my son naturally. I arrived at the maternity hospital by ambulance, and upon learning about my B20 status (the medical term for HIV infection), I was placed in isolation. No one was allowed to visit me for over a week. I was also prohibited from breastfeeding my baby.
When we were discharged, I stopped taking medication (at that time, therapy was prescribed only during pregnancy and discontinued after childbirth).
For many months, my son was tested, and the results were negative. He grew up to be a healthy, active little boy. When he turned 1.8 years old, he underwent his final test and was officially removed from the registry (a child born to an HIV-positive mother is considered “gray-positive” for a certain period, meaning they are at risk of being infected with the virus).
At the same time, my husband finally agreed to get tested. To our amazement, his results came back negative—he was healthy too! Then it was my turn. I took the tests, and unfortunately, my diagnosis was confirmed.
I would rush through the hallways, and the place itself felt oppressive. The thought raced through my mind: “I’m not a prostitute or a drug addict! This shouldn’t have happened to me!”
After that, I practically disappeared from the radar of the AIDS Center for several years. I would come in once a year for an appointment, and each time, my immune CD cell count was around 400. I didn’t want to have anything to do with either that place or the people in it. I would rush through the hallways, feeling overwhelmed by the atmosphere and the stigma I associated with it. The thought haunted me: “This shouldn’t have touched my life!”
I lived my life with these heavy thoughts—raising my son, studying, and working. My husband and I divorced, and he left the country. At the time, therapy was only prescribed if your CD cell count was below 200. So, even medication didn’t serve as a reminder of my diagnosis.
At the beginning of 2007, I fell ill. Normally, I wouldn’t have paid much attention since I had never been particularly healthy, but this time, I ended up in the hospital with atypical pneumonia. I was scared, but I didn’t tell the doctors about my HIV status. They treated me, but after that, my condition began to deteriorate.
For the first time, I looked at “those” people as human beings and acknowledged them as just like me.
That summer, I met the man who would later become my husband. It happened at a gathering of HIV-positive people, held outdoors. For the first time, I saw “those” people as human beings and recognized them as no different from myself. Among them were various women and men, some with their children. There was no need to hide anything from them.
This was the beginning of my acceptance of myself and my diagnosis. It seemed like just an ordinary meeting, but it changed me. I realized that, despite everything, life goes on. Life with HIV can be just as full and meaningful as any other.
That same year, I found out that my CD cell count had dropped to 220. I had papilloma’s on my body, candidiasis, and felt constant tired. My husband insisted that I start treatment. I didn’t want to. For me, it felt like the end of my free life, a constant dependence on medication.
But things could only get worse if I didn’t. So, in December, I defended my master’s thesis, and the very next day, I began therapy.
Over time, my health improved, the symptoms on my body disappeared, and my immune cell count began to rise. It felt like I was born again.
From my own experience, I can tell others that it is possible to have a healthy child, start new relationships, and build a family.
I realized that I want to share my journey with others who are facing similar challenges. I want to help those who have found themselves in a similar situation. From my own example, I can show that it’s possible to have a healthy child, start new relationships, and create a family. You can live, learn, work, and find joy!
I’m confident that my experience will help many—especially those standing on the edge of despair, not knowing how to move forward. Life is one and only. It continues, no matter the diagnosis or circumstances. And that is the most important thing.
This is how my journey in the social sector began. I started working in HIV service organizations that supported people with this diagnosis and conducted prevention programs to help stop the spread of the disease. Initially, I worked as a social worker, and over time, I became a counsellor and later a trainer.
I was constantly learning new things, attending seminars, conferences, and training sessions. Eventually, I began writing project proposals and became a coordinator. I gave lectures, conducted training sessions, and led self-help groups.
I witnessed how the lives of people changed when they acknowledged their diagnosis, accepted it, and began treating their health and life with greater understanding and care.
Have I faced stigma and discrimination because of my diagnosis? Perhaps a few times. The first instance was during my pregnancy, when the gynaecologist claimed it would be better for me to terminate the pregnancy because the child would be born sick and wouldn’t survive beyond 1.5 years.
The second instance occurred about ten years later. I went for a routine check-up and informed a new doctor about my diagnosis. She stopped the examination and stated that she “doesn’t work with ‘such’ patients.” After speaking with the department head, the doctor apologized.
However, these were separate cases. Nowadays, I believe that stigma has significantly decreased as people are more informed and have a better understanding. A greater threat to a person, especially a woman, is self-stigma. It can destroy lives, worldviews, and relationships.
The START Club—a community that brings together people with HIV-positive status—is always open to new participants. Here, you’ll find peer support, as well as valuable and accurate information about health, medicine, and more.
The meetings take place both online and offline.
To attend a “START Club” meeting in Ukraine, call the hotline at 099-109-29-92.
Currently, AHF is one of the largest non-governmental organizations providing prevention and testing for HIV, care, support, treatment, and assistance to HIV-positive patients in 48 countries worldwide, including Ukraine.
For information on how to receive help, consultation, diagnostics, or treatment, visit the website freehivtest.org.ua.
Text by: Alyona Slominska, Olga Stoyanova, Darya Zhakovska.
(Translated from Ukrainian by Diana Shpak)
