Lessons in Adoption Part 3
Once we returned home from our anniversary trip, Marcia began talking and praying about where we would adopt from. We talked about foreign and domestic, and finally decided on foreign. We had heard and read a lot of stories of domestic adoptions that were reversed at the last minute and we just couldn’t put our families through that kind of potential heartache. We finally settled on adopting from Russia. We did a lot of research and settled on an adoption agency. The agency we selected was supposedly the leader in successful Russian adoptions. We then began the process of gathering paperwork and signatures. It is a long tedious process. We went back and forth filling out forms, having them notarized (sometimes more than once), and shipping them off (you’re welcome Fed-Ex). It wasn’t long before I had a 3-inch three ring binder full of papers. I’m a little OCD with some things and made copies of EVERYTHING I sent in. We sat through webinars on how to raise an adopted child. We had to apply for our passports. We had to book flights. It is very mind numbing to just think about.
One thing we quickly realized is, it is a whole different world dealing with foreign governments compared to local US government, especially a government that really dislikes America. I’m not going to get political here but despite the news that the Cold War is over, I have a strong argument that it is not over and never was. We were required to make two trips to Saint Petersburg, Russia for the adoption process. During the first trip, we met the child. During the second trip, is the court session and bringing the child home. Both trips were to be about 1 week in length.
Our first trip was pretty much non-eventful. We met the child. He was a two-year-old and naturally wanted nothing to do with us. He cried a lot and had no intention in playing with us or even coming near us. Our interpreter told us that was actually a good thing. We agreed as we were strangers and thought he should be scared.
Our second trip is when the wheels began to fall off. We went to visit the child at the orphanage prior to court. We had left a picture album with the orphanage staff for them to use with the child. The idea was to allow the child to learn our faces and names so when we returned, he would know us better. It was obvious when we returned, that if he had seen the pictures, it wasn’t very often. He continued to avoid us. He did finally allow me to stand within five feet of him. I felt like I had really accomplished something! During our visit with the child, I received a phone call from our interpreter. She informed me that she would not be joining us for our court session. She said there would be another interpreter there to help. We immediately became very anxious. Our interpreter worked for our adoption agency and had been with us everywhere we went. Now all of a sudden, during the most important and stressful time of the process, we were going to be in a strange country with an interpreter we didn’t know. I had a very bad feeling. We left the orphanage and were carried to the courthouse. We had to sit and wait for over 2 hours for our turn in court. During the wait, I was constantly praying and pacing, asking God to simply speak for me. Give me the words to say. I specifically asked Him to not allow anything to come from my mouth that He did not want me to say. I have never been so nervous in all my life. Not even when we got married (and I surprised Marcia by singing to her in our ceremony). That courthouse felt dark and cold. I literally have never felt so far away from God in all my life.