This past Thanksgiving weekend, we were particularly
thankful for a new member of our family...a certain six-year-old Ukrainian boy
with inquisitive, hopeful eyes and a bright smile and a ready laugh...a certain
little boy who, yes, has turned our lives upside down...but what would life be
without a little shaking up now and then?
This seems like a good time to remember
in a more specific way the many people who have made it possible for us to
bring Alex home. I started compiling this list back in the summer, and spent a
good chunk of Thanksgiving weekend trying to finish it up.
Turns out, there are a lot of people who
have helped us out with this adoption.
Two hundred and ninety-six, by my count.
That’s a conservative estimate, because
that total doesn’t include every member of some of the groups of people who
made the adoption possible, and it also doesn’t include all the people we have
inevitably forgotten. (Our apologies in advance; we’re relying on our memory to
compile this list from a very busy fourteen months.)
I doubt that anyone will actually read
this entire post—it spans nineteen pages in Word—but the act of compiling it
has been a blessing in itself. I think of this list as a sort of beautiful
quilt, stitched together from many different pieces. The hundreds of people
listed in the following nineteen pages are mostly strangers to one another, and
yet they all came together for the sake of something very good:
Yeah, we wouldn’t be looking at that
smile today if it weren’t for all of you. Thank you so very much!
People
who took care of Alex and who laid the groundwork for his adoption
Let's begin at the beginning by saying
thank you to Alex's parents, who
gave him life. It was not the easiest choice, but they could have chosen otherwise,
and they didn't. We pray for them and hope for a happy reunion with them in the
eternal light of a loving and merciful God.
We offer heartfelt thanks to the many
kind Ukrainians who cared for Alex in his first five and a half years. The unknown doctors, nurses, and caretakers at the hospital that became his
first home deserve our gratitude for keeping Alex alive and minimizing the
consequences of his premature delivery. It would have been easy to give up on a
very low birthweight baby, but they didn't.
The
unknown workers and caretakers at his second home, the Kirovograd baby house
orphanage, deserve our
gratitude for showing him love, and caring for him, as best they could, given
their lack of resources.
The
dozens of caretakers at the Znamyanka orphanage for children have a special place in our heart for
the care they provided Alex during the nine months we spent plowing through
blizzards of paperwork in order to adopt him. An institutional orphanage, no
matter how good, is no place for a child. As much as the children may have been
deprived, though, they were not deprived the genuine love of their caretakers.
Alex's psychologist at the International Adoption Clinic as well as his
therapist here at home have been very impressed by how well he has formed
emotional attachments and appropriate social relationships since his arrival.
This is not necessarily a "given" for internationally adopted
children, too many of whom experience deliberate abuse or neglect. If Alex
shows a (mostly) happy temperament and an ability to form normal human
relationships, it is his Ukrainian caretakers who deserve the credit.
Andrea
Roberts founded Reece's
Rainbow orphanage ministry just a few months before Alex was born; her work and
sacrifice, along with that of countless volunteers, has changed the lives of
hundreds of special needs children who would have otherwise lived short,
boring, painful lives, deprived of familial love. Alex is one of those “Rainbow
kids”—a special fraternity that we hope grows and flourishes in coming years.
Among those volunteers were Amber C. and Joanna R., both of whom became active advocates for Alex. They
spread the word about his availability for adoption, and started the Adoption
and Awareness for Alex Facebook page. Before we ever committed to Alex, that
page had more than 100 followers, and Alex’s Reece’s Rainbow fund had more than
$7,000 in it. That “head start” on fundraising can be put down to their
tenancious advocacy for Alex over the course of a year. (Amber and her family
recently committed to adopting a child of their own; we wish them blessings and
joy in their journey. Joanna is a remarkable young woman who has travelled the
world serving and advocating for orphans. Whatever path she ultimately chooses
in life in terms of a career, it’s clear she already is deeply committed to
joyful sacrifice for the sake of the most vulnerable, and we wish her all the
blessings of that vocation.)
We know from our contacts with other
families adopting special needs children internationally that not everyone
thinks this is a particularly good idea. We've heard stories of friendships
lost, family members cutting off communication, and more than a few
"discouraging words." We count ourselves lucky to be surrounded by friends and family members who may
think we're crazy or impractical, but who support us anyway--or at least
express their genuine concerns in constructive ways. Thanks to all of you who
offered early words of encouragement. They matter more than you know, because an
important element of discerning God's will involves listening to the wisdom of
wise and caring people. On a purely practical level, we knew from the beginning
that we could only do this with serious help. Without your support, we would
have had serious reason to reconsider our decision.
Our bio kids (Ben, Maria, Julia, and Matthew) deserve special mention here.
Without their support for this adoption, we would not have been comfortable
moving forward. We talked about sacrifice from the very beginning, and they
have made sacrifices in spades. (It’s character-building, kids! Someday you’ll
thank us, really you will!) Their frequent prayers for Alex’s well-being prior
to his arrival were the first glimmers of brotherly and sisterly love for him.
Mentors
and spiritual companions
Sheila
O., a long-time friend
from my (Jerry’s) Catholic Worker days, played a special role in our
discernment process. Sheila has cerebral palsy herself and has adopted three
kids internationally. She offered sound wisdom and advice, as well as a sense
of perspective, during our discernment.
Among other things, she pointed out that we would not hesitate to take on the
challenge of caring for a child who was born to us with special needs, therefore,
we would certainly be able to rise to the challenge of caring for an adopted
child with special needs.
Jim
and Barbara A. are dear,
longtime friends from our local Catholic Worker community; even though they
moved to Boston a few years ago, we have kept in touch. They were early
supporters of Susan’s work with Reece’s Rainbow, even before we decided to
adopt. When Susan was advocating for a boy with very involved cerebral palsy named
“Anthony,” they worked with their son’s charitable foundation to top off his
adoption fund, which made his adoption possible. We had many long conversations
with them both before and after our decision to adopt Alex; their role as close
spiritual mentors in this whole process led us to ask them to be Alex’s
godparents. They were able to be present at his baptism, and helped out with
the kids during their visit.
Perhaps more than any single group, the
priests who have been close to our family were the most stalwart supporters of
us making this seemingly crazy move. Fr.
Andy Beerman listened to way too many “here’s the latest snafu” reports
from Susan with patience and encouragement; his response was often to sit back and
ask, “And where is God in this right now?” (Susan’s favorite line from him was:
“God, being omnipotent, can work through anything—even foreign bureaucracies.”)
Fr. Bill Becker, our pastor, reacted
to the announcement with some surprise—and then immediately asked, “What can I
do to help?” Fr. Becker was transferred in the midst of the adoption process,
and our new pastor, Fr. Jim Berning,
has also been a real support, assuring us he was praying for this adoption
every day. He baptized Alex this past
July. We anticipated a very quiet baptism outside of Mass, nothing fancy; we
didn’t want to stress Alex out, and also we knew Alex had likely already been
baptized in Ukraine (even though we had no records). But thanks to Fr. Berning
and pastoral associate Ann O., what
we got was a full-blown liturgical celebration with all the bells and whistles.
(N.B. to our evangelical friends: Not literal bells and whistles; we may be
Catholic, but there are limits.)
Many of the people who attended the
baptism were members of our parish’s Parenting
with the Spirit group, which has been a steadfast source of support
throughout this process.
The
Reece’s Rainbow community of adopting families was an invaluable resource to us during
our discernment. I seriously doubt whether we would have moved forward adopting
a special needs child from Eastern Europe if it hadn’t been for this community.
Besides offering practical advice and answers to our many questions, they
shared their adoption stories in the forums and on their family blogs. Being
able to read so many successful adoption stories reassured us that although
this was a hard thing to do, it was definitely possible. Dozens of people
provided advice and encouragement throughout this journey, but a few RR families
in particular stand out.
Carla
D. spent about 90
minutes with us on the phone sharing her story of adopting Henry and answering
all our questions about the peculiarities of the Ukrainian adoption process
(and what it’s like to live in Ukraine for several weeks). She was very
encouraging, and has been a supportive friend throughout our entire journey.
Nancy
and Andy shared their
story of adopting Vanya on their family blog, which was of particular interest
to us because they adopted from Kirovograd—the same city we thought we’d be
adopting Alex from. (It turns out he was in another city about twenty miles
away.) We talked with Nancy for about an hour over the phone to get a more
specific idea of the Kirovograd situation, and conditions in the Kirovograd
baby house that had been Alex’s home.
Chris
and Leann P. adopted Anthony
(the boy mentioned above). We’ve kept in touch with them because of Susan’s
previous advocacy for Anthony (now “A.J.”). They also did a great job of
documenting the ups and downs of their six weeks in country (in the middle of a
brutal winter!), which helped prepare us for our own journey. A.J. lives with
them in Iowa now—practically neighbors—and we hope to visit him within the next
year or so.
Jennifer
and Michael D. also shared
their very unique adoption story online—yet another story that prepared us for
our own journey. In addition, Jennifer sent us a wonderful care package for our
journey—including a map of Kiev, several Russian-language courses, tights for
Alex, a Ukrainian USB modem, and much more. (Jennifer and Susan finally met
face-t0-face last weekend, meeting for a meal while Susan was traveling for
work.)
Sandie
F. travels to Eastern
Europe every year to educate families and professionals about caring for Down’s
Syndrome kids. She visits the Znamyanka orphanage on a regular basis, and is on
good terms with the staff there. When we came across her blog, her descriptions
(and pictures and videos) gave us our first real glimpse of the orphanage, so
that it wasn’t completely unfamiliar when we actually stepped foot inside its
doors. She answered questions and offered insights about Znamyanka on several
occasions via e-mail and Facebook. She continues her work with the orphanage,
for which we are grateful.
Locally, our friends Kate and Eric E. came over for brunch one Sunday to share their own
international adoption story (they have two adopted children now), and to
answer our questions. This was very early in our discernment process, so they
were one of our early guides, and have offered practical support throughout the
journey.
Laura
and Ray F. shared the
story of how they adopted their two daughters from Russia, and offered their
support and prayers.
Jacquelyn
K., who adopted a child
from Ukraine back in the pre-Facebook days, offered her warmth and support and
advice, and a listening ear, throughout the entire process. It is nice to run
into someone randomly at the clinic who knows exactly what you’re going
through!
We had more people praying for us
throughout our adoption journey than we could possibly list here, even if we
knew who they all were. However, a few specifically told us they were praying
for us, and kept in regular contact, becoming “spiritual companions” to us
during the adoption journey.
Rosie
B. has been a faithful
correspondent since the very beginning; she even gave up chocolate AND coffee
as part of our prayer and fasting to move the adoption forward. She fasted
until we got the date…which ended up being months, not weeks, of no chocolate
or coffee. Wow. She also assembled a package of educational materials and
resources that she uses in her work with special needs kids, and sent it to
Alex; he has enjoyed exploring the many materials, which is great for his
fine-motor development. Rosie and her husband are on their own adoption
journey, and they are also opening their own hippotherapy riding stables. We
have an open invitation to visit them in Memphis, which we hope to do next
summer. (Isn’t it great how this adoption journey has forged new
friendships???)
Rachelle
L., a good friend of our
friends Barbara and Jim A., has been another faithful e-mail correspondent and
prayer partner, even composing a novena to St. Joseph for us. She is knitting
hats for both Alex and Matthew! Her thoughtful insights have been food for the
journey. We hope to meet her and thank her in person one day when we visit
Boston.
The family of Laura and Barry P. have been a constant support; they and their
five children prayed for Alex nightly in the process leading up to his
adoption. A special shout out to uber-prayer warrior H—. Barry also dropped everything to come over to our house to pray
with us in our darkest hour the week after we got back home. And he came armed
with a Bible and some good Scripture!
Our families—including our many nieces
and nephews—prayed for us throughout the adoption process. In addition, Susan’s Aunt Marge, who is a Daughter
of Mercy sister, offered her prayers and the prayers of her community. Sister Julie G., who is sort of the
Mother Theresa of Fairhope, Alabama (involved in lots of charity work), kept
tabs on us through Susan’s mother (who volunteers for her every Friday), and
offered constant prayers—as well as a stuffed orange crocodile that Alex calls
“Croc” and takes to bed every night.
Todd
G. and Laurie Z., whose
family appears a few times in this account, have been friends and neighbors for
many years. We asked them to be guardians (at least temporarily) of our
children in the event of our deaths, in part because they live in the area and
our children know them. Now, they have six children of their own already, but
after consulting with their kids and praying about it, they agreed to the
arrangement. (We joke that we will get extra fervent prayers for our continued
health out of the deal.) This arrangement actually proved to be pivotal during
our Ukrainian court hearing, during which we were asked what would happen to
Alex in the event of our deaths (since we were “not young,” as the questioner
put it). Being able to point to this family as our “back up” reassured the
court, I’m sure.
Help
with money
As soon as we formally committed to Alex,
we set about raising the $17,000 necessary to adopt him. Fortunately, we had a
$7,000 head start, thanks to the generosity of countless anonymous donors to Alex’s fund on the Reece’s Rainbow
website.
Almost immediately, Jim and Barbara A.
stepped forward to help us obtain the remaining funds we needed from their
son’s charitable foundation. That extreme generosity allowed us to move forward
with the adoption as quickly as possible without worrying about fundraising.
(Most families adopting special needs children through the Reece’s Rainbow website
spend an enormous amount of time fundraising; very few have the financial
resources readily at hand.)
Although much of the adoption costs were
covered by the funds donated through Reece’s Rainbow, we still had to pay about
$4,000 for certain aspects of the adoption ourselves. This included fees for
the preliminary paperwork, such as the home study; such fees aren’t generally
covered by the Reece’s Rainbow grant. Fortunately, a number of “angels” stepped
up to help us out by donating through the Adopting Alex website that we set up.
My
sister Becky donated her
hand-made rosaries for a give-away fundraiser. People rightly oohed and ahhed;
they are just lovely.
Jim
and Ann P., longtime
high school friends of mine, were the very first folks to make a substantial
donation; I still remember seeing the amount and being both humbled and
encouraged. Humbled that others would step forward to help us, and encouraged
that this seemingly impossible leap of faith might be possible.
Jerry’s
brother Mark and his wife Meagan
made a large contribution toward adoption expenses after winning big in their
church’s raffle fundraiser. That contribution came just in time to cover a
large unexpected expense (I don’t remember what, now)—another example of God
smoothing the way for us. (Not that God influenced the raffle results,
necessarily…although I guess you never know….)
One day we received a mysterious
invitation for our family to attend a dinner at the minor seminary at Susan’s
university (Immaculate Heart of Mary Seminary).
We shrugged (although I wondered what was up!), attended Mass with them, and at
the beginning of a really nice dinner we were handed a check for adoption
expenses—from the seminarians, “topped off” by the seminary. When I expressed
my thanks to Fr. Beerman, he smiled and said, “People want to be a part of
something this good.”
Many other people followed suit. Many of
these people know Susan through her Ironic Catholic blog and her work in the
Catholic blogosphere. They include:
Sammuel
B.
Margaret
R.
Michael
A.
Ray
M.
Timothy
C.
Alex
E.
Scott
D.
Mary
T.
Bryan
N.
John
M.
Erin
B.
Judith
E.
J.
S.
Mary
Kay M.
Julie
F.
Brian
P.
Thomas
L.
Stephanie
Z.
Emily
S.
Alice
B.
Marie
S.
Karen
M.
Linda
R.
Rebecca
K.
Nicolle
B.
Mary
H.
Maureen
M.
Amber C.
Mary
M.
Nancy
P.
Matthew
L.
Catherine
H.
Theodore
P.
John
B.
Chris
J.
Kristina
Anna M.
We also received financial support from
our local network of friends and acquaintances. Some of those donated online:
Greg
and Sue S.
Brian
and Betty S.
Lorraine
K.
Renee
K.
Eileen
H.
Ed
K.
Mary
F.
Nikki
D.
Karen
and Scott S.
Joe
D.
Rob
and Melissa G.
Donna
K. and Eric C.
Others shoved money at us in person—at
the store, at church, at our front door—for the many incidental expenses
associated with the adoption. Every time someone handed us a check or cash and
said, “I know it’s not much, but use it for…” was a reminder of God’s promise
to accompany us on this hard journey.
I know we’re not remembering all of these
(apologies in advance), but ones we remember include:
Mary
Ann and John F.
The
Rennie family
Laura
and Ray F.
Katy
S.
Suzanne
B.
an
unknown angel who sent us a gift card anonymously
Also, the children of Laurie Z. and Todd G. donated a big chunk of their own
money toward the cost of Alex’s adoption at Christmas, and then sent us an
assortment of gift cards to various restaurants and stores after Alex was home.
Their family is a wonderful model of Christian stewardship.
Very early on, we put on a garage sale to
help raise money for the adoption; we are grateful to everyone who donated
items to the sale, particularly our friends and neighbors Ethan and Jill K., as well as everyone who bought something from
the sale.
Angels
amid the bureaucracies
The various U.S. and Ukrainian bureaucrats
who regulate international adoptions to guard the children’s welfare are not, I
confess, my favorite people. Nothing sets me (Jerry) off like bureaucracy and
paperwork, which is why Susan handled the vast majority of our paperwork. (I
just signed my name—very carefully—about a bazillion times.) However, we were
fortunate to have a few patient and generous souls who guided us safely through
the maze of rules, regulations, and requirements on the way to finalizing our
paperwork. We even met a few bureaucrats and paper-pushers who went above and
beyond the call of duty to help us out.
First among our guides has to be Nancy M.S., a Reece’s Rainbow volunteer
who served as our U.S. liaison for the adoption. Reece’s Rainbow families who
have worked with Nancy like to talk about her behind her back—along the lines
of “How incredibly awesome is this woman?” In our case, our first encounter
with Nancy was when she reviewed our first batch of paperwork from her HOSPITAL
BED a day after hip surgery. Everyone hates the bureaucratic paperwork that
goes along with international adoptions; it is our good luck that Nancy loves
helping families to move through it, with the help of her spreadsheets and flow
charts.
Kathy
P. and the staff at the
International Adoption Service, were wonderful about helping us to complete our
home study and other required Minnesota paperwork. Again, we’ve heard horror
stories, and feel lucky to have been guided by such competent professionals.
Kathy was flexible in meeting with us, and was very careful to make sure we
knew what we were getting into before we got too far into the process.
Although the U.S. Citizenship and
Immigration Service is notorious for its poor service to immigrants, its
service to adopting families is generally very good. Our international adoption caseworker was very responsive and expedited
our paperwork, for which we are grateful.
Thanks, I think, to the guy at the St. Paul USCIS office who didn’t send us packing all
the way back to Winona when we showed up for our $900 fingerprints early,
without an appointment, even though he clearly wanted to do so.
Which reminds me of the very nice sheriff’s deputy who took our
fingerprints in the Winona County jail for our criminal background check. She
was one of many strangers who poured out their own stories when they heard
ours, and wished us luck and Godspeed. She can count it among her life
accomplishments that she was able to make getting fingerprinted in a jail a
genuinely pleasant and uplifting experience.
Jacquelyn at Winona National Bank served as our
long-suffering (yet always cheerful) notary public for all our adoption
paperwork. We must have walked through those doors a dozen times and had her
notarize a hundred different documents—sometimes, the same document more than
once—always with the gentle reminder from us that the Ukrainian government,
bless its bureaucratic soul, does not accept documents notarized in black ink,
or with a crooked notary stamp, or a notary stamp whose date does not match the
date on the signature lines, or a notary signature that does not match the
stamp, and there’s more but you get the point. What a trooper. Through it all,
she was not only patient, but also enthusiastic about the adoption; we were
pleased to bring Alex in to meet her when he finally materialized. (Yes,
Jacquelyn, he is real!)
Her colleagues at Winona National Bank
were equally gracious. Linda and a host
of tellers spent a week sorting through one hundred dollar bills for ten
thousand dollars’ worth of unmarked, unwrinkled bills that would meet the picky
standards of the Ukrainian government. Kim
T., who handled our home mortgage refinancing, not only shared the story of
how she adopted her own daughters from Eastern Europe, but also expedited that
paperwork to get everything finalized in a week (instead of in the usual month)
so that all the paperwork was taken care of before we left for Ukraine. A
handful of other WNB employees spent
several hours pulling together financial documentation and figuring out how to
wire money to Ukraine. I mention this because I am not sure we’d have gotten
this level of service at one of the big corporate banks.
Another group of people who endured the
slow torture of Ukrainian government paperwork with us would be our doctors and
their staff at Winona Health. Mary and
Bob, our doctors, completed paperwork for us…multiple times over,
unfortunately. Bob parted with a copy of his medical license despite concerns
about how that private information might be (mis)used. Bob also provided
valuable information about cerebral palsy that factored into our discernment.
Preparing
for Alex’s arrival
A few people also offered practical help.
Lorraine
K. hooked me up with Elena S., a friend of Lorraine’s who
moved here from Russia with her two daughters five years ago. Elena patiently
tutored me in Russian most Sunday afternoons for about nine months. I will
never forget that first session: “Don’t make your vowels so big—use a small
mouth!” Elena was a stickler for clear enunciation. It is a compliment to her
that our facilitator rated my pronunciation as “pretty good” (except on a few
words). Elena donated all of this time as a way of supporting the adoption, in
which she expressed great interest. We were thrilled to have her and one of her
daughters over to meet Alex when he finally arrived.
We have two bedrooms for all our
children; squeezing Alex in was a bit of an engineering challenge.
Eileen
H. lent us her
carpenter’s brain and pointed out much simpler solutions to our problem than I
had in mind (she basically saved us from installing extra cabinets and
shelving).
Brian S-T. did some electrical work for
us, as well as some light carpentry work preparing Alex’s bedroom. He and his
wife, Betty, also donated a desk that made the playroom and Alex’s bedroom
safer for our curious little explorer (getting electrical strips and cords and
devices off the floor). And Brian made a special trip over to the house while
we were gone to help Susan’s mom fix her Skype connection.
Dan
II spent about six hours
assembling the mate’s bed for Matthew, which was necessary in order to free up
space for Alex.
We knew we needed space at the dining
room table for a new member, and put out a call for people to keep an eye out
for a used dining room set that would seat eight. Trish J. spotted a beautiful used dining room table, and Tina S. spotted the chairs a few months
later. Now Alex has a place at the table.
Folks
who kept the home fires burning
A number of people made it possible for
us to be absent from home for the month it took to complete our Ukrainian
paperwork in country.
Susan’s
mother bravely stayed
with our other children for more than a month. Honestly we can’t think of many
people who would be willing to single parent four lovely but energetic kids for
that long. How brave was that? She comforted them when they were sad, set up daily
Skype sessions, thought up all sorts of fun things to do, got them through the
chaos of the last days of school and the first days of summer, and offered them
loving discipline and guidance. And then she left to go home to Alabama, which
may have been the hardest sacrifice of all. Plus, she spent a considerable
amount of her own money in the process, including a sizable chunk to fix the
air conditioning in our van, for which we were profoundly grateful during the
rest of a hot, hot summer. Wow.
Susan’s
father sacrificed the
company and support of his wife for that entire month; not only did he not
complain when the process ended up taking longer than expected, but he offered
assurances of his love and support.
Laurie
W., another one of our
Catholic Worker friends, offered to serve as a backup to care for our kids if
Susan’s mother had to return home for some unexpected reason. She also stopped
by to help out with the children every so often, to give Susan’s mom a break.
Jerry’s
mother visited our
children while we were gone, giving Susan’s mom a break and bolstering the
kids’ spirits, and also offered to serve as a backup for Susan’s mom.
Many friends, and a few people we barely
know, brought meals for Susan’s mother and the children while we were gone, and
then brought even more home-cooked meals in the first month that we were home.
We will never eat so well ever again! Thanks to Kate E. for suggesting that we
organize a meal train and then setting it up over my protests. (“We’ll be
fine!” Wrong!) Among them were:
Kate E.
Annemarie
D.
Mary F.
Sara
M.
Marcy
V.
Mary
G.
Brian and Betty S-T.
Moira
C.
Laura
F.
Maria
M.
Myoung
L.
Shana
J.
Nikki D.
Meghan
S.
Suzie
P.
Jody
C.
Meredith
D.
Carol
M.
Tina S.
Kate
N.
Anne
W.
Patrice
W.
Jean
S.
Shirley
O.
Shari
J.
Eric
N. and Deb N.
Deb
S.
Marge
M.
Joanna
K.
Jill K.
Renee K.
Laura
B.
Marla
and Peter M.
Lisa
G. and Bob W.
Steven
and Jodi M. deserve
special mention for giving us, like, 100 pounds of freshly processed beef
(including steaks!).
People from throughout our extended
community welcomed Susan’s mom and helped her navigate the kids’ world; a short
list would include people at Parenting with the Spirit, Early Childhood Family Education, Bluffview Montessori School, and
Saint Mary’s Parish. It was nice to come home and hear so many people say,
“Susan’s mom is awesome!”
Help
in country
About five different people offered to
drive us to the Twin Cities at a truly obnoxious hour (5 a.m. or so), but it
was our neighbor Todd G. who made the five-hour round trip for us. (Laurie Z.
sent along muffins, of course, besides lending Susan her nifty laptop case at
the last minute.)
The first person we met in Ukraine, and
the last person we saw as we left, was Niko.
Niko helped us change money, drove us into Kiev, set us up in our first Kiev
apartment, introduced us to the young women at the minimart below the
apartment, made sure we had Internet access (that lifeline to home), and
generally tried to make us feel at home. On our way home with Alex, he endured
our child’s endless requests with avuncular patience, got us through our
medical appointment, took us to the U.S. Embassy, and got us to the airport on
time. (“Wakey, wakey!” was his cheerful wake-up call at 3 a.m.) Niko was a
constant source of good advice (“For heaven’s sake, don’t eat at McDonald’s!
Let me tell you about this little place with authentic Ukrainian cuisine….”)
and good humor.
Ludmilla
K. is the person on the
Ukrainian Reece’s Rainbow team who serves as the liason for all the families in
country; she calls everyone once a day to make sure they are doing all right.
She served as our facilitator because this was the first adoption out of this
particular orphanage, and she wanted to establish a good relationship between
the orphanage staff and Reece’s Rainbow. What can we say about dear Luda? She
has truly given her entire life to this work. She lives on trains and in rented
cars and on couches. She is “on call” 24 hours a day, seven days a week, sick
or well. If the adopting parents whine about the paperwork, it is nothing
compared to what Luda has to do—reviewing all of the parent paperwork before it
is submitted, sending it back for corrections, negotiating with Ukrainian
bureaucrats, and keeping all of the paperwork and timetables for multiple
families straight, despite her constant traveling. Twice, she copied out
lengthy documents BY HAND in the offices that required the copies in order to
keep the process moving along. More times than I can recount, she did the hard
work of diplomatically negotiating with bureaucrats and paper-pushers—winning
their trust and appreciation with her sympathy, but also constantly pushing
them to keep things moving along. If it weren’t for her, we’d still be in
Ukraine, I’m sure. (Please don’t get hit by a bus, Luda.)
Besides guiding us through the paperwork,
Luda also managed our expectations about the process, ordered meals for us at
Ukrainian restaurants, bought us fresh strawberries when we were feeling down,
coached us on what to say in court, made sure our apartment in Znamyanka had
every basic comfort we might want (like hot water), shared many stories about
her upbringing in Soviet-era Ukraine, walked miles and miles with us
(literally) in high heels, and laughed with us after we all managed to light
the ancient gas stove in the apartment. A woman of many talents, truly.
Serge
Z. is the Wizard of Oz
of the Reece’s Rainbow Ukrainian adoption world…he knows all the levers to pull
and all the right people to talk to; plus, he very actively lobbies the
Ukrainian government for changes in the adoption laws to make special needs
kids more easily available for international adoption. Serge visited Alex in
the Znamyanka orphanage shortly after Alex got transferred, taking a few
pictures to reassure us that Alex was all right and letting the orphanage staff
know that we hoped to adopt him. Serge also got us to Znamyanka very, very
fast, introduced us to the orphanage staff during our first meeting with Alex,
and treated us to a couple of authentic Ukrainian meals along the way. He
continues to work with the Znamyanka orphanage, recently bringing the children
new shoes and participating in the visit of an important government official.
The work Serge does opens doors for more special needs children to be adopted,
while also (indirectly) helping improve conditions at the orphanages.
Sherrie
and Jim D. were friendly
American faces in Kiev; they were also adopting, and we spent a lovely evening
touring downtown Kiev with them; they offered lots of practical advice on the
best places to eat and shop.
We met many kind and helpful Ukrainians
during our visit…the nice young women at
the minimart were patient with our gesturing and broken Russian, showing us
where various items were and even showing us how to recharge our Internet
account at the little MTC kiosk. We met three
or four young people who knew English and did some translation for us when
our broken Russian wasn’t doing the trick. There was a lady who sold fresh fruits and vegetables in the market who we
visited every day, striking up a kind of acquaintance; she was kind and
patient, even helping me change coins. In Kiev, we met an artist who spoke fluent English and who spent perhaps half an
hour chatting with us about his story, and Ukraine, and asking us questions
about our story; he sent us on our way with a small gift, and a sense of how
our common humanity transcends nationalism.
Volodni drove us to and from the orphanage
almost every day in his beat-up Soviet-era taxi, blasting some Ukrainian rock
station and weaving all over the road in order to avoid potholes and oncoming
traffic, waving and honking his horn at all the people he knew along the way
(which was a lot of people). His cheerful greeting every morning was just what
we needed to hear, transcending the language barrier between us. He also helped
us change money at the local bank by using his own documents when they wouldn’t
accept ours. (Perfectly legal, done right in front of them—they just had never
changed money for foreigners before.)
Andre was our ubiquitous Ukrainian guardian
angel in Znamyanka. We could never quite figure out his official title, but he
was some kind of leader in the housing projects where we stayed for three
weeks—like an unofficial mayor or something. In any case, he was a friend of
Serge’s, and arranged our apartment for us—one of the best in town for the
price, we were told. He had workers come and install satellite television (over
our objections)—two guys came out and spent an hour hanging out our apartment
window, six stories up, working on the satellite dish in order to get us 900
stations in foreign languages plus the BBC station (in English). He sent people
to buy us new sheets, put up a shower curtain, and fix the hot water heater. He
was at court before our hearing and then at the orphanage, meeting with the
director, after the hearing. He hailed me on the street as I was wandering
around trying to find fexofenadine, and then took me to the pharmacy (where
everyone knew him) and made sure I got what I needed.
The staff at the Znamyanka orphanage were
kind, welcoming, and understanding. We met many people there, but learned only
a few names.
Yanna worked in Alex’s groupa most weekdays,
and was an invaluable source of information about Alex’s routine and therapy.
On our first day there, she introduced us to the owner of the nearby
restaurant/bar, where we had lunch quite a few times over the next few weeks. She
was assigned to be our minder during our first week of visits—boring, yawn-inducing
duty indeed—and picked cherries for us from the orphanage on the grounds. Yanna
even bought a Russian-English dictionary, bless her heart, in order to
communicate with us better.
Lena, the assistant director, was always
smiling, always stopping to talk to one child or another in a kind and gentle
way. She had the manner of a saint, and was very gracious to us during our
daily visits. She lost her only son to a car accident during our stay, which somehow
seems the height of unfairness—to put it mildly. We were deeply saddened by her
loss.
Tatiana, the director, showed us great
hospitality and gamely worked with Luda to negotiate the complicated adoption
paperwork—a doubly difficult task, given that this was the first adoption from
that orphanage. She told us, “The children are loved here,” and we believe
it—we saw that love in action. She has an icon of St. Nicholas, patron saint of
children, above her desk. She grabbed my arm as we were preparing to leave and
looked me in the eye and made me promise that we would send them updates about
Alex, and we have. We count her among our Ukrainian friends.
We also received practical help from some
of the older children and young adults
at the orphanage, and enjoyed getting to know them.
Once again, we have to thank our
Ukrainian adoption Facebook group for the tremendous support we received while
in country. Our daily video calls to our families were an essential lifeline,
but this group of strong and compassionate women were another kind of
lifeline—people who had been there, done that. They offered tremendous
emotional support throughout our stay, along with much practical advice about
everything from what to do with Alex for three solid days in Kiev to
negotiating the long flight home. (The best advice there being to buy Melatonin
and crush it into something Alex could eat.) The few days after we picked Alex
up from the orphanage were particularly harrowing. The night before we left,
both Susan and I were on Facebook simultaneously getting advice from this
group—me in the darkened bedroom with Alex, who was throwing a fit, and Susan
in the other room packing, both of us seeking advice on how to get him to
sleep. Unfortunately, we can’t find the record of those exchanges anymore, so
it is impossible to list all of the twenty or so people who pitched in, but a
few we think participated in those discussions are Renee A., Vera C., Lora L., Jennifer D., Carla D., Sara W., Julie N.,
Hope D., Breanne S., Carrie E., Nancy T., and Stephanie C.
On
the way home
Our dreaded 24-hour trip home wasn’t as
bad as it might have been, thanks primarily to the service provided by
Lufthansa. They got us into a bulkhead seat, which made it possible for me to
stretch my legs and for Alex to play on the floor. All of the Lufthansa flight attendants were attentive, but several took a
special interest in Alex. One, a Russian-speaker, wanted to meet Alex and talk
with him in Russian. Another brought Alex an extra ice cream sundae from the
first class cabin. Two others let me hang out in the galley for an hour and a
half while Alex was asleep in a baby sling.
We had prayed for God to accompany us on this
journey, and what do you know? He sent a nun,
in full habit, to sit on one side of us, and an entire group of Catholic
pilgrims to sit behind us. The leader of
the pilgrimage had overheard about Alex being adopted and asked us about
his story; as in so many of these cases, sharing our own story led to us
hearing someone else’s adoption story.
My brother and his family picked us up
from the airport in Minneapolis, and graciously allowed us to spend our first
night back in the United States at their house. Their children were very
friendly toward Alex, bringing him gifts and offering kind words of welcome! After
getting just four hours of sleep in the previous 48 hours, we were dead on our
feet and promptly went to bed. Mark also took half a day off work to drive us
two hours downriver to our home…the last leg of our journey.
Re-entry
As many of you know, our initial re-entry
was rather rough—from the pent-up stress of the past month, from serious
jetlag, from exhaustion, from the realization that the real work was just
beginning—and that we had just imported all the negative consequences of Alex’s
institutionalization into our home!
When I began to crash a few days after
our arrival, I sought professional medical help. I have to thank a nice certified nurse practitioner (whose
name I forget) for getting me some low-impact anti-anxiety meds right away,
along with a follow-up appointment with a family practice doctor the next day.
Ethan K. drove me and Matthew to that appointment (Susan was taking Alex to
another medical appointment out of town), then took us to the pharmacy to pick
up the prescription, and carted us over to McDonald’s while we waited for the
prescription to be filled. Dr. T.
was sympathetic and did not hesitate to prescribe more robust anti-anxiety
drugs, along with some sleep medication that got me through the roughest patch.
We had hooked up with a family therapist,
Ann L., prior to the adoption on the
grounds that Alex would definitely need adjustment therapy. Well, as it turned
out, we needed her help for the first few months more than he did! Over the
past four months, she has been a compassionate listener with good insights and
practical advice for how to “triage” our situation. She says we look better
than when we first walked into her office in late June; we definitely have her
to thank for helping us to improve.
Besides medical professionals, I also
turned to our online adoption community for help. One of those people (I forget
who) offered valuable advice: Now is not the time to cocoon (the standard
advice for families that have recently adopted), but to reach out to your
support community. Well, duh! I read that and reached for the phone and called
Barry P. (mentioned above) and Laurie W., both of whom promptly came over for
prayer and a good, long conversation.
Laurie W. followed up by pledging fifteen
hours of help per week beginning in August (when Susan went back to work). She
helped me with Alex and the other kids for three hours a day for about two
months straight, gratis. She is a generous, wise, sensitive person who takes
her spiritual life seriously…but as someone who used to be a social worker and
who currently is a live-in volunteer at our local Catholic Worker community,
she is also very down-to-earth and practical. Which is to say that she can
change a poopy diaper or clean up spilled milk or form a plan for handling a
complicated problem as readily as she can offer wise spiritual advice. Our
whole family is incredibly lucky to count her as a friend.
Deb S. is a fellow stay-at-home parent
who I know through Early Childhood Family Education, and the other person I
thought to call right away. She has a wry wit, a devil-may-care practicality,
and a deep warmth and compassion. An example of her style: she brought over a
cooler full of filled water balloons for the kids to play with while we were in
Ukraine. (It was still there when we got back; Alex had a great time using them
in his first-ever water fight.) So I had no reservation about calling her up
out of the blue and sharing our difficulties and then asking whether she and
another ECFE friend would be willing to do some clothes shopping for us, since
we were dealing with so much already and didn’t have time to track down 2T and
3T onesies and bib overalls. We asked for shopping help with the promise of
paying her back, but of course she dropped off sacks and sacks of new clothes
that fit perfectly and then refused payment. We got a used jogging stroller
from her, too (I actually took Alex out in it today), as well as two
lime-flavored alcoholic beverages. Yep, those were good. I think (but am not
sure) that Meagan S. also helped with the shopping.
Others also brought us clothes and bibs:
Laura F., Heather B., Barbara A.; there
are more that I’m not remembering. Jody C. also brought over paper plates and
other disposable dinnerware, which turned out to be really useful. She
remembered appreciating that after her brother died several years ago. Kate E.
brought over an infant backpack.
Marcy V. came over several times to help
me with Alex and Matthew; she brought along fun crafts, like homemade sidewalk
paint. Her mere presence was more help than she probably imagined. She also
brought over lots of clothes and equipment for Alex—including a jumper, an
infant stander, and a high chair that he still uses every day.
Katy S., my longtime parent education
teacher (and Minnesota Teacher of the Year!) made a house call and lent a
sympathetic ear while helping to prepare lunch for the kids. Ten years of
classes with her have given us a big head start on this new parenting
challenge.
Nikki D. and several other unknown
benefactors bought us gift cards for a cleaning service (Maus in the House, run
by the inimitable Carol M.)…we’ve still got a few hours to use up, which should
be no problem, given the constantly messy state of our house!
I have already mentioned the many people
who brought us meals in the month after we came home; to that list I should add
Vera C., one of our very good online adoption friends, who sent us a very large
Pizza Hut gift card that proved to be a lifesaver on more than one hairy day.
Donna K. and her husband, Eric C., made
several visits in the first few weeks to help us care for Alex. Eric is a
physical therapist, so he was able to show us how to “play” with Alex in a way
that would double as physical therapy long before our first formal PT
appointment. Donna is a CNP and offered her own medical advice, along with her
usual sense of calm and composure.
One of the more practical challenges we
have faced is making our home more accessible to Alex, and a big concern has
been access from the garage during the winter, when the walkway between the
garage and the house often becomes a wading pool or skating rink. Brian S-T.
helped us brainstorm a practical solution to that problem; Eileen H. offered
her carpentry expertise, and Nohj C.
(the foreman for our local Habitat for Humanity) reviewed our plans to make
sure we weren’t crazy. We essentially dismantled part of our massive deck and
turned it into a raised walkway between the house and the deck. Brian S-T.,
Eric N., Bob T., Randy S., and Mike H.
all donated their backs and tools to the deck destruction phase of the project,
along with more courage and common sense than I had. Fifteen people showed up
to move the deck: Dan W., Laurie W.,
Carol M., Eric and Kate E. (and their kids), Matthew B., Molly G., James,
Rachel, Ethan K., Brian S-T., Todd G., Steven M., Randy S., Bob T., and
Eileen H. (Our older kids helped out, too.) What a motley crew! We will think
of each of you as we carry Alex to the house NOT falling on our butts due to a
poor walkway.
The Winona area motor and mobility
support group has also been an incredible resource in terms of helping us
figure out which way is up in this new world we’ve entered. Pam F. and Amy S. spent two hours with me one night at the Ground Round,
offering practical advice as well as names and resources. They followed up by
loaning us all sorts of equipment, including a scooter, a very expensive Rabbit
stander, a swing (which Alex drove into the ground), a wheelchair, a bath
chair, and more. Annie C. and Meredith
D., friends from church whose children have different impairments, have also
offered practical advice and encouragement. These parents are amazing, yet
hidden, heroes. They are experts in the arcane science of helping children with
disabilities to participate in the life of their community—and they do it all
with positive, can-do attitudes.
Anya (daughter of Elena S.) and Uyen V. came and assisted me with child
care during the months of July and August, when Susan was at work and all of
the kids were home. They were
great with the kids, and real life-savers
in terms of my sanity.
Natasha (another daughter of Elena’s) provided
translation services for us, gratis, at many of Alex’s initial medical
appointments. We’re sure her gentle manner and her explanations of what was
going on relieved some of Alex’s stress around those new experiences.
Others offered gifts of welcome to Alex:
Elena S. and her family offered stuffed animals and a board game for the other
kids; my Aunt Susan knit a blanket
for him (which he sleeps under every night); Barbara and Jim A. gave him a
beautiful wall hanging (“God danced the day you were born”); our neighbor, Kathy S., gave him a stuffed dog (and
all the Godfather’s pizza he could eat!); and the Donahue family sent Alex a Rody horse that he still uses for play therapy.
Alex’s
army
Alex is lucky to have had a small army of
very talented professionals helping him on various fronts since he arrived four
months ago.
The team at Community Kids preschool has
been amazing. Director Sherri M.,
who had read our entire adoption blog, personally contacted us to invite Alex
to apply to the preschool, where they mix special needs children with typically
developing children. This was surely another one of those “graced” moments. The
strong advice we’d received from the International Adoption Clinic had been to
not enroll Alex in school. However, Community Kids has been a very good
experience for Alex, providing him with new horizons, daily therapy, and lots
of loaner equipment. He wouldn’t be nearly as mobile without all of the
equipment and guidance provided by the school.
Sherrie navigated the bureaucracies that
would enable Alex to attend even though he turned six in September (he has
never been to school before). Monica M.,
Alex’s teacher, also reached out to us well in advance of his enrollment,
spending several lunch hours on the playground with him over the course of
several weeks before we were enrolled—just to get to know him. Alex’s “team”
also includes language pathologist Ellen
S., occupational therapist Cathy M.,
school psychologist Denise V., and
physical disabilities coordinator Mindy
R. Tanya G., his physical
therapist at school, has been amazing at getting Alex up and
running—literally—by providing tons of loaner equipment, as well as the
professional help needed to get him fitted to it properly. All those pictures
of him happily walking or rolling have a lot to do with her work. Amy and Nikki, Alex’s personal care attendants at school, have been at
Alex’s side every single day, and have done a great job helping him make yet
another transition.
Alex has had more medical help than he
has ever had in his life. It’s a long list, but we’re particularly grateful to Beth A. and Dr. Maria K. at the University of Minnesota International Adoption
Clinic for doing lengthy phone consultations immediately after our arrival when
we were struggling with behavior issues with Alex. Dr. Judith E., a pediatrician at the clinic, provided our first
comprehensive overview of Alex’s medical condition.
Additional medical help has been provided
by Dr. Sarah L., Alex’s pediatrician
at Winona Clinic; Dr. John G., the
emergency room doctor who gave us life-saving advice during Alex’s first
medical crisis (Dr. John also turns out to be our new across-the-alley
neighbor). At Gillette Children’s Specialty Healthcare, Candace Vegter and Sue Murr spent a couple hours consulting with us
by phone before we brought Alex to his first spasticity clinic; Drs. Tom N., Mary D., Mark G., and
Christopher N., along with a very competent physical therapist whose name
we no longer have, evaluated Alex’s cerebral palsy and formulated a treatment
plan; Dr. Christopher N., who is himself physically impaired, followed up with
Alex on the physical medicine front and laid treatment plans that will put him
on the road to greater independent mobility. Sharon B. at Gundersen-Lutheran orthopedics fitted Alex with his
first hinged ankle braces. Diane M.
has served as Alex’s physical therapist at Winona Health since July; she knows
how to make PT fun for him, and has marveled with us at his amazing progress.
People really seem to hate the government
these days, and I get that, but we’ve seen first-hand how it can also be an
instrument of the people to accomplish good things together that they couldn’t
accomplish individually. We know from our contacts with people all over the
country that the assistance provided to special needs kids in Minnesota is
second to none, often by a long shot. Along those lines, we have to thank Annette V., our Winona County social
worker, and Kathy Piscetello, our
Winona County public health nurse, for everything they have done to coordinate
services for Alex. They’re an example of efficient, hard-working, compassionate
government employees.
Amanda at the Winona County social security
office, along with another worker there whose name I can’t recall, also deserve
a shout out for going above and beyond the call of duty to humanize a
government bureaucracy.
Thanks to assistance from the state of
Minnesota, we now have four wonderful personal care attendants who are Alex’s
hands and feet (and friends) for almost forty hours a week. Without their help,
Alex would get much less exercise and normal six-year-old activity every day.
They take him for walks in his walker, help him learn how to use his wheelchair
and stander, carry him to the top of slides, and otherwise supplement his
mobility. They help him read and socialize, too. They don’t replace the love
and care of his family, but with four other kids (including an active toddler)
in the house, having a pair of hands devoted to Alex has been really good for
his development. We are lucky that these PCAs were friends of the family first.
They are Laurie W., Julie M., Diane L-M.,
and Dan W.
~
In case you’ve been keeping count at
home, that’s 296 people and groups.
Deo gratias.
