Well today we signed the papers that said that we wanted to accept this referral and continue with the adoption. It was good to be able to play with baby D for a couple more sessions. He was starting to warm up to us just about the time that we need to head out. It was very hard having to leave him after the day. Each time we see him gets harder for us to say good-bye. We will just have to hurry up and get part 2 of the dossier done so that we can return to Orenburg for our court hearing.
[Comments from Ange] We've heard & read a lot of things in our adoption education & simply reading what other families have experienced. But while it is good to be prepared, there is no substitute for the actual experience. I really understood yesterday on a deeper level why Russian families have such a higher priority over foreigners to adopt these children. Previously, I had written it off as largely political. But now I am gaining a much deeper understanding of how much our child is going to have to go through. As overwhelming as I found it when I had moved to England, at least they basically spoke a language that I could understand, and as an adult, I had a lot more control over my own environment. This little child may find us fun to play with, and the care givers may be telling him that we are his mommy & daddy and that we're going to take him to his new home. But he's only 17 months old. He doesn't really understand what is going to happen. I'm quickly trying to learn a few phrases, because I don't have time for HIM to learn things like "come here" and "don't touch that" in English. He is a very busy boy who loves to explore everything. Fortunately our home is fairly well child-proofed, but there in the music room where we were playing, he wanted to bang the back door hard enough to rattle the window. He kept going after electrical cords. And the fire extinguisher that was sitting on the floor. Of course, he wanted to get into everything within his reach, and he wanted to reach everything that was above his reach. It reminded me a LOT of how Cerri was at that age. I like that he has a mind & a will of his own and that he has an adventurous spirit. He will do really well in our family.
But I can't even begin to fathom how he's going to react to suddenly being out in the world with people who speak a language that he doesn't understand in a place that is nothing like the only home he has ever known. He doesn't speak yet, but he clearly understands the things that are said to him. Even when you tell him to come here in Russian, and he looks you right in the eye with a grin as he barrels past you. He understands even though he doesn't actually do it. I really hope that after the court hearing, someone brings him to us instead of having us take him out of the Baby Home. I don't know how much he'll understand or remember later, but I don't want him to associate us with being taken away from his home. I think he will probably attach to us really quickly when we are the most familiar aspect of his new environment. I can understand now why they want to ensure a more gradual transition, and I wish we had time to do it that way. It really makes me sad that he may never get to see most of his caregivers again, even if we do return in a few years to visit. He'll be so different by then, and for awhile he may not want to have much to do with his Russian heritage. Hopefully he will gain some appreciation of it eventually. I am so grateful that he has had such kind & loving caregivers.
I also find that I have developed another facet of love for him. There are many different ways that we come to love our children. There's that kind where you think "oh he's so cute, I just want to kiss & cuddle him." That's the easiest kind. There's another kind where you have gotten to know exactly the way your child likes to be soothed to sleep or when he's gotten too frustrated with using his spoon and really needs you to rescue him so that he can fill his tummy, those kinds of things. That will come with time and getting to know each other better.
But this is that expression of love where you realize that this person's happiness and well-being are more important to you than your own. And you hate to think of your child having to experience any pain, wishing you could make everything smooth and perfectly happy for them. I had a hard time yesterday, realizing the hard time we're going to put him through, taking him out of his home and away from the people that he knows and loves. I tried to explain this a little to Vera & Alex, and they reminded me that he wouldn't be able to stay in this baby home forever anyway. In another year and a half, he would have to move up to the next one, and then another one, and then he'd be out in the world with no support at all. That helped some. It might be easier for him in the short term for him to stay in a place where they speak his language, and he's used to the routines and so on. But in the long run it would mean more home changes, more disruptions in his life. And there's no guarantee that the older children's homes would be as kind and loving as this one. And he would never get to explore the world like he will with us. I think the important thing here is not to try to prevent him the pain of the experience that is coming. Do what I can to make it easier for him, of course. But to be aware, to understand how hard it must be for him. Give him the space to experience his feelings. When he's old enough to talk about it, talk with him and especially listen to him.
By then, he will be so much a part of our lives that to lose him would be like ripping out a part of ourselves. I already know without having to be told that is what will happen, and it won't matter whose womb he was in or whose DNA he has. Through whatever miracle or coincidences of life brought us together, at that point, he will be our son, a member of our family that would not be complete without him. I will need to make sure he knows this, both by telling him so and by showing it in my actions every day.