It's About Love

My many experiences with Adoption

My own adoption story: I was adopted by my parents at 2 weeks old. My parents were married at 24 and 25. They struggled with infertility for about 4 years before the happy day they received a call from LDS Family Services that they had a baby girl ready for them to take home. They filed their paperwork and waited a few months, received the call one day, two days later they walked in the door a couple and walked out the door a family.
Having now been through the pregnancy and birth of my own son I have a renewed perspective on what my parents went through to have me.
My mother wasn't able to carry me in her body but I love the expression "You were born in our hearts." She wished and prayed and cried for years to have the opportunity to be a mother. And her struggle is no less powerful and sacred than that of a mother who gives birth to her child.

My Brother Alex: I still remember the day my parents sat my sister and I down in our kitchen and told us we were going to have a little brother. I was only 9 years old, and it took me by complete surprised but it felt like Christmas! I was so excited. They explained what was going to happen over the next few months, that he was already born and in fact he had just turned one! His name was Sergei but they were going to give him the name Alexander Sergei. We were going to have to wait a while longer before we could bring him home because we were going to have to go get him from an orphanage in Russia. I didn't really understand any of this, but I was just excited to meet him!
In May of 1997 my mom, dad, sister and I packed up for a 10 day trip to Russia! I remember the whole trip in such vivid detail, it's still incredible to me 17 years later. (I'm thinking back now to the Disney movie, Anastasia, where they describe Russia as bleak. Bleak is the right word.)
It took us a few days to get to the city, Sosnovaborsk in Siberia. I will never forget the day we went to meet him.  We walked into the small room full of 18 month olds, there was a woman holding a little boy. He was the only one with hair. They had let his hair grow out into a bowl cut when they heard he would be going to California. The woman put him down and spoke in his ear. Then that sweet, chubby-faced little boy waddled over to my mom. She picked him up and gave him teary loves. (We were later told that the caretaker had whispered to him, "That's your mama.") He didn't want to let go of his mother from then on. He clung to her.

My Brother Mikhail: I was 14 when my parents decided to adopt one more time. My mom just felt our family wasn't complete. There was still another person out there waiting for us to find him. It was a bit different experiencing the process of international adoption as a teenager. With Alex, my parents just came to us one day when everything was already in motion. With this time, I can remember my mom pouring over profiles of Russian babies for months, maybe years. The laws and regulations were changing by this time and it was becoming more difficult for Russian-US adoptions to take place.
One day my mom brought home a picture of a tiny cute baby boy named Dimitri. We all fell in love with him right away. He was so cute in his little blue sleeper! I don't remember all the details but somewhere along the way my mom stopped talking about Dimitri and one day she had a different picture. This was the one. I remember feeling confused about what had happened to the first baby. My mom told me it wasn't the right fit. I didn't understand that at all. I was really concerned about what would happen to him if we didn't bring him home with us. Now as an adult and a mother, I know that my mom must have thought long and hard and prayed often to lead her to this new decision. But at 14, I was so upset about it.
My parents had to go twice this time. They had to go once in the spring of 2001, just to visit Mikhail. Then after waiting a few months, for heaven knows what? They were able to go back in July to bring him home. They were there for 3 weeks that time!
We went to meet them at the airport (2 months pre-9/11, we were still able to go wait right at the gate. Weird to remember things like that.)
He was a skinny little one year old, with hardly any white blond hair and pale blue eyes. Cute as a button. He was the sweetest little happy fella! We all went home and we just sat there, in the entry way, watching him get to know us.

One of the most amazing things about our family is to see how much went into bringing us all together. There were so many people involved. So many difficult decisions and hardships. But also so much love and sacrifice. I know with every fiber of my being that we were each meant to be together. It's truly a miracle to witness how adoption has formed our family.

My Relationship with my Birth Family: This is an element of adoption for which there is no shortness of opinions. With all the different ways to go about adoptions, it's hard to know if there is a right and wrong way. I have my opinions.
In August of 2012, after 25 years, I was reunited with my birth mother. I had dabbled at trying to find her since I was 18. I had really given up, even though part of me always wished it would happen someday. That day came in like an atom bomb of emotion! It was so unexpected! (More HERE)
It has been a really positive experience for me to see the other side of the story. I always knew my side. And my parents handled it all just right. They were always open about it even though it was a closed adoption so our information was limited.
Once you get over the initial excitement and emotion of knowing the person, you have to kind of transition through discovering what your ongoing relationship will be. For me, I was never searching for my birth family in order to fill a void in my life. I had a wonderful life, amazing parents, siblings whom I love. And I could not imagine my life without any of them. So when I found my birth family, everything that I found was in addition to what I already had. The way I see it, I always needed both. My mother couldn't give me life, I needed someone else for that. I have my mother; she raised me, loved me, taught me everything, gave me so many great opportunities. She is irreplaceable. But I also have my birth mother, I needed her just as much. It is thanks to her and her sacrifice that I have anything at all. She chose my parents for me. Chose to give me that life, even though somedays it may not have been what she wanted, she wanted it for me. It is a beautiful thing, how adoption literally multiplies love.
It turned out that my birth family is....well enormous. And everyone wanted to know me! Which was wonderful, and overwhelming. They all took me right in as if I had been there all along, because in a way I had been. They never stopped loving me and thinking about me, which is a really enriching thing to know after growing up wondering about them.

Adoption and My Future: Since I was a teenager, I have wanted to adopt at some point. Specifically, I would like to do Russian adoption. Not that I don't appreciate that there are sweet children everywhere who need loving homes. But having such a personal, first-hand experience with Russian adoption really touched me. I still remember all those babies in the orphanage in Siberia. I have thought a lot about them over the years. They are all 17 and 18 now and I wonder what their lives have been like growing up in that way. I hope that some of them have been able to find love and joy despite their beginnings. I think about my sweet little brother Mikhail and how genuinely cheerful he is. He is sweet and artistic and thoughtful. I imagine how if he had grown up alone in the Russian orphanage system, it would have broken him. There's a special place in my heart for little Russian boys and I want to rescue them.
At this point, Russian-US adoptions are completely halted. But I'll never stop hoping that will change so that some of those sweet babies can be rescued.