Seventeen years ago, I embarked on a journey to Moscow to adopt my 2-year-old daughter, Lily. Colleagues remarked on my noble choice, saying, “How selfless of you. You are giving her a new life.” Neighbors praised my generosity, suggesting I could have spent my resources on a luxurious vacation instead. I wanted to shout, “No! This is for me!” The truth was, I was not thinking about a child in an orphanage facing a bleak future if not adopted. After a divorce and several failed relationships, I had reached a turning point in my life: I wanted to become a mother, plain and simple.
I weighed various options for achieving this goal. Pregnancy posed risks due to my age and previous health issues. Domestic adoptions often took years, and I felt a connection to Russia since my grandmother had immigrated from there. Thus, I set the wheels in motion.
Confession No. 1
At the last moment, doubt crept in. I found myself alone in a hotel room in Moscow, with the unsettling sight of cockroaches crawling down the cracked walls. The legal adoption hearing was set for the next morning, and my interpreter was there to assist. The head of the adoption agency had warned me, “If you reconsider, do it before the hearing, not after.” My stomach churned with anxiety.
Earlier that day, I had visited Lily at the orphanage and felt an unsettling disconnect. “This can’t be the adorable toddler from the video,” I told my interpreter. “Please double-check.” But it was indeed Lily. When she was handed to me, she cried and reached back for her caregiver. In a moment of panic, I instinctively handed her back. I wanted to comfort her, but deep down, I was terrified and questioning my decision.
Confession No. 2
The adoption hearing felt surreal; I was detached, observing myself from a distance. Afterward, when I took Lily home, she wailed when her caregiver let her go. I handed her back, not just to provide comfort but out of my own fear. What had I gotten myself into?
Confession No. 3
The initial years were tough, filled with intense tantrums, especially during car rides. Luckily, I found a daycare conveniently located near my office, but when I returned to work after three months of being with her, she screamed the entire commute. Yet, there were also moments of pure joy. Her endless curiosity would shine through: “Look at the birdies, Mama!” “Look at the sky!”
As she entered adolescence, attachment issues emerged, leading to risky behaviors, including sneaking out and frequent arguments. Friends would ask, “You’re not regretting this, are you? You’d do it again, right?” I found myself contemplating, “What have I done?”
Despite these dark thoughts, which I believe all parents experience at some point, I must confess that my daughter has opened up my heart in ways that no partner or friend ever could.
Now, at 19, things have calmed down. She is different from me in many ways. I am an avid reader, while she would prefer a dental visit over picking up a book. I incorporate exercise into my daily routine, but she grumbles about taking her dog for a walk. All parents have dreams and expectations for their children, and I was no exception. We often take pride when we see traits of ourselves reflected in them.
However, when our children don’t align with our expectations, and they diverge from the paths we envisioned for them, what do we do? We can’t return them. So, we love them unconditionally for who they are. Perhaps that is the essence of true love.
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In summary, the journey of adoption is fraught with emotional twists and turns. While the initial stages may be challenging, the love and growth that come from these experiences are invaluable. Embracing our children’s individuality is key to fostering a nurturing environment.
Keyphrase: Adoption journey
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