Memories of a Manic Mom: A Second Adoption from Russia

We learned on our first trip to Russia three years ago that it’s not a good idea to pack too much – our bags were too big for the trunk of the car that picked us up from the airport, so we ended up with a bag in the front seat, stuff in our laps and we still needed to use the roof. And then, since we were staying with Russian family, we had to carry all this stuff up six flights of stairs and back down again. On this trip we packed light (even though it was winter, the buildings are so overheated that wearing bulky sweaters can be fatal.) and it was still more than the trunk could handle. The drive from the airport was pretty fast, thanks to our driver Boris (who could intimidate a Teamster to get out of his way), but the scenery looked as bleak as ever. I think there’s some sort of issue with earth’s rotation – the sun never seems to appear in Moscow.

Our appointment with the Minister of Education to learn about our new child was at 11:00 a.m. on Monday. I’m always a little taken aback by the general state of disrepair of government buildings everywhere we’ve ever been, and Russia is no exception. We did get to experience a ride on the tiniest elevator ever built (I’m sure it was a converted closet – it fits no more than three adults and only if they are intimate friends). As usual, the meeting started over an hour late, so we had plenty of time to ponder what was in store for us. If Stella knew anything, she wasn’t talking. It was finally our turn and we got a surprising amount of information. We learned a little about the birth mother, the baby’s medical history, and we saw her birth certificate and a picture.

After the meeting, we went straight over to the orphanage, which was located about an hour away. When we adopted our first daughter, Kenna, I expected the orphanage to be straight out of a Dickens novel and was pleasantly surprised to see the big yard, the cheery colors of the walls and all the toys. So this time I was expecting something rather nice. I’m not sure if it was just the contrast to my expectations, but the place just looked so sad and rundown.

I wasn’t thrilled about having to travel to Russia for the child offer – and every afternoon when it was time to say goodbye to our new daughter, I liked the system just a little bit less. There was the obvious problems with the expense of traveling and the issue of leaving our first daughter at home – but visiting a child, falling in love with her, and then flying away seems downright barbaric. However, as much as I hated this process, I also believe there is an upside. Meeting the baby gave us tons more information than a two-minute video could provide. We were able to take her for a checkup and get the medicine she needed, plus we purchased a three months supply of the soy formula that the doctor recommended. We were able to take hundreds of pictures and made a video for a U.S. doctor to review. And from start (filling out the dossier) to finish (landing in Boston with our baby in tow), this went about eighteen months faster than our first adoption – but that’s a different story.

Needless to say, the wait for a court date was hard. I had all the normal worries like if the baby is healthy and how will our older daughter Kenna handle the new addition. And I had the not so normal fears about our file getting lost and never getting a court date or what if the baby does remember us and was now really mad about being left behind. Most of the worrying was for naught; we got our court date. In the midst of all the joyous preparations, we got the devastating news that the baby was now in the hospital. It took Stella another two days and probably a thousand phone calls to learn what was wrong with her and to get permission for us to visit her in the hospital. What we didn’t realize is that the law states we must visit the baby three times before we can proceed with the court hearing. And since the baby was in isolation, we needed all kinds of government clearance to arrange visitation. We had the option of delaying the adoption so that we could consult with doctors, but we never considered it. Instead, we decided to go ahead with our trip and hoped that things worked out. We had forgotten that Stella is an absolute miracle worker – just before we left, we learned that the visitation had been waived and we would be going to court on Monday.

We took Kenna on this trip – and to say the flight over was hellish was barely scratching the surface of the horror of traveling with a 3½ year-old when our nerves were already frayed from the worry over the baby. We were bordering on panic over how Kenna would be able to handle court the following morning, but she behaved beautifully. We sat at a big table with Stella, the social worker, the prosecutor, and the court stenographer (who takes notes in long hand), with the judge at a separate table. We had to stand and ask permission to have the ten days waived, then the social worker stated she supported our motion and the prosecutor elected to wait until after the interrogation – er, the judge’s questions – before offering an opinion. The judge granted our adoption petition and waived the ten days, so little Kaelin was now an official member of the family. When Kenna heard the news, she gave me a tight hug and a kiss – I thought she was going to shout out “Alright!” and give me a high five, but she remained the model of three-year-old decorum.

After court, we made a quick trip to McDonald's (how do you say “Happy Meal” in Russian?) and then went to the orphanage to turn in some paperwork and get some paperwork. Then we drove to the hospital to see Kaelin in her “isolation” room.

When they said “isolation” they weren’t kidding. I pictured a dozen cribs with oxygen tents or some such covering. Kaelin was in a tiny room with no other babies to look at, no pictures on the wall, no color, no light. She was not wearing a diaper and it looked as though neither her clothes nor sheets had been changed in awhile. Her diaper rash was so severe that she shrieked and shook as she was cleaned. The memory of that place will be etched in my mind forever – but so will the look of pure joy on Kenna’s face as she saw her baby sister for the first time. And once Kaelin was snug in her clean and dry diaper, she gave us a big smile too. I’ve read that babies have better memories than we give them credit for and I’ll have to agree with that. I swear Kaelin remembered Chris and me – she immediately tried rubbing noses with Chris, playing just like they did at the first meeting. We considering checking Kaelin into the American Clinic, but quickly decided that we didn’t have the heart to put her into another hospital; all she really needed at this point was some TLC. Not surprisingly, Kaelin reveled in all the attention – she cried whenever we put her down. A couple of times I’d put her down on the floor while I mixed a bottle or something and she’d be okay for a minute or two, then the tears started. Kenna just shook her head and asked “what’s wrong with her? Why does my sister cry all the time?” It sounded a bit like an accusation: “you’re the mom, do something here!” Try as we might, we couldn’t erase several months of inattention in a single night.

Because of Kaelin’s recent illness (and Kenna’s rambunctiousness) it was decided that I should stay at the hotel with the girls while Stella and Chris raced around Moscow doing all the paperwork. Chris and I disagree who got the better part of that deal – he got hours of traffic, lots of waiting around and about three minutes worth of “work” (signing his name); I got two kids in varying stages of sleep deprivation who fed off each other’s screams.

About halfway through the week things were looking pretty good for going home on Saturday. Chris and Stella returned to the passport office Thursday morning and were assured the passport would be ready on Friday. This is where things got a little dicey. We needed to have all documentation turned into the US Embassy by 11:30, which was the same time the passport was supposed to be ready. So we were counting on two things: the Embassy to agree that the missing passport is a document that can be obtained before the hearing, which would allow them to schedule our interview appointment; and the passport office to have the document ready on time. Unfortunately our government let us down – Chris was not able to secure an interview without the passport in hand. Thankfully, the Russians were on top of things and they were done a touch early. Chris and Stella played a game of “beat the clock” as they rushed from the Embassy to the passport office and back again in forty minutes. We got our appointment and then Chris had to race back to the hotel where I tossed him the baby and they zipped back to the passport office. (After issuing a passport, they wanted some evidence that Kaelin did in fact exist.) The “interview” at the Embassy was nothing more than answering a couple of questions and swearing to raise Kaelin as a good American. It was quick and painless. And then one last stop to get a stamp in Kaelin’s passport – this stamp made her eligible for any services she might need from the Russian government during her stay in the U.S. It seems an unlikely occurrence, but she couldn’t leave the country without it. And then we were done. Forever.

It’s debatable which is easier: adopting from Moscow or from a smaller region. Kenna was adopted from a small city and we were able to go to court, get the birth certificate, and get the passport all in one day. However, to get to that town we had a really scary internal Russian flight that we weren’t anxious to repeat this go-round. Also we had to stay with a Russian family, which was interesting and quite pleasant for three days, but not something I’d want to do for two weeks or more, especially with Kenna coming along. In Moscow, life was pretty cushy at the hotel. We had room service; TGIFriday’s and McDonald’s were down the street; and Red Square and other attractions were within walking distance. The downside is that everything is so spread out it takes days to accomplish all the paperwork, the traffic is never-ending and the waiting is endless.

However we managed to accomplish these two adoptions, we did things exactly right because, miraculously, we somehow got the two girls who were absolutely meant for us. Kind of amazing how that works…

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