Oh Baby, Baby

Autumn’s real gotcha day outfit...



Last spring when Andrea from Reece’s Rainbow emailed me about a six month old cardiac baby, nicknamed Peach, who needed a family ASAP, I was excited. It is almost impossible to adopt a child under the age of one from Eastern Europe and I felt blessed to have the opportunity.

As the adoption process moved slowly along, I struggled with the feelings of losing her... the real chance of it due to her heart and the fact that her babyhood was slipping by week by week. Our infant would be ten months old by the time we got to her.



But when they brought her to me for the first time, both sides of that fear melted away. She was so tiny, almost bald like all my other babies, and light as a kitten. But she was strong. She could hold herself up steady and grab onto fingers and toys. She could vocalize several consonant sounds, and would smile at will.


(In Kyiv, her bed was the stroller...)

She can roll over and push herself up on her forearms. She likes to sing and will take turns “talking” with me. She blows raspberries. She watches me and tries to get me to look at her when I am going by. If I do look at her, she cracks a huge smile and then cries if I don’t pick her up.


(because we found out soon enough that this floor bed couldn’t contain her.)

She is a thumb sucker and a belly sleeper. She loves hair and will chew on mine whenever she gets the chance. She is a good eater and so far has tried rice cereal, banana, pumpkin/banana, and prune baby food, and a few bites of a sryupless pancake. When we got her, she was a big puker but now she is keeping down her food quite well, thanks to all the great ideas my FB friends shared with me about smaller portions and thickening, and of course holding her up endlessly, lol.

Autumn had a cold and was hospitalized right before we picked her up. She has been to see the pediatrician who put her on antibiotics and eye drops. He listened to her heart and lungs and said she sounds good. In a couple weeks she will visit the cardiologist for a follow-up echocardiogram.



She is enjoying her role as the family baby, basking in adoration from her brother Jade who can’t keep his hands off her. Of course, Kimani is not impressed by her and thinks the tuft of hair on her head is a convenient handle. Masha, my mini-me, mothers her... she brings her toys, tries to clean her face, helps me change her diapers, and pats her along with me when I burp her. Gecko thinks she is cute and loves the fact that “she is so tiny.”



She is a beautiful baby. I look at her and wonder... isn’t it amazing that she is mine?

More Masha

Ok, before I post more about Masha let me just say that yes, Autumn is doing fine. She is healthy and happy and has a post of her own coming up soon.

My first attempt at making Russian salad (for Masha)



Tasting the ingredients...



Testing the final product...



“I think it needs some salt, mom”



Can this be the same girl who stood trembling with fear when her feet first touched the water?



Masha loves how high and fast her new swing is...



My four year old Jade took pictures of us :-)



We were so blessed to meet Masha’s grandparents. They took us out to dinner at TGIF’s. They shared so much precious information about Masha, and all that went into the decisions that were made concerning her. It was clear to us that they love her very much and we have promised to stay in touch with them.

The Incredible Masha Grace

This first week with Masha has been, what’s the word... impressive? eye-opening? heart-warming? Fascinating, actually.



Masha is a copycat. If you do it, she can do it. The first night we had her, she refused to let me brush her teeth... she clamped her jaws shut tight and made horrifically loud, throaty protests. The next morning I brushed my teeth in front of her and she indicated that she wanted my toothbrush, so I gave her hers. She proceeded to start brushing her tongue. I crouched down next to her and made a big show of brushing my teeth and she began to brush hers, side to side, up and down. Now she is a pro.

Masha can talk. She can say “kitty”, “water”, “give it to me”, “it fell”, “no no no”, “yes”, “poo/ garbage”, “mama”, and “its raining”. She probably says more than that but my Russian is pretty much non-existent, so I don’t know... you should hear her chat on the phone though, lol! On the first day she learned to sign “more” and “eat”.

Masha feeds herself with a spoon and can drink from an open cup. She sits at the table and has wonderful manners. When she is done, she hands me her plate and cup, and then wipes herself clean. If she drops something, she picks it up and calls out to me, “ka ka”. If she doesn’t like the taste of something, she gently pushes her bowl out of her reach.



Masha can dress and undress herself. If she sees me putting on my shoes or a coat, she runs and gets on her shoes and coat, and climbs into her stroller, or stands at the door. But when we were getting ready to go to the airport I told her we were going “paka paka, home” and two minutes later she was completely undressed. I redressed her and continued packing up. She undressed herself again. Then it hit me, she thought we were taking her back or leaving without her. I explained that mama, papa, and Masha were going home, going bye bye and then she stayed dressed.

Masha is gentle with Autumn and lets me know when Autumn is upset (as if I can’t hear her bawling her head off, lol) She pets Autumn, and “grooms” her, and brings her toys.



Masha likes to sing and dance. She likes to play with her tea set and will make me a cup and bring it to me. Masha loves books, especially when she is sitting on the potty. She loves to sweep, and will pick up any papers or crumbs off the floor and bring them to me for the garbage. She helps to load the dishwasher and puts her clothes in the hamper.



Masha’s gross motor skills are off the charts. She can climb into her stroller and out of the playpen. She can climb up into her car seat and down from her booster seat at the kitchen table. She can jump up off the ground with both feet together. She has strong arms and can hang from the door handles and pull her legs up off the floor. She has learned very quickly how to go up and down staircases with little support. She is tough enough to push her bigger 4 year old brother around when they both want the same thing.

Masha is affectionate. She runs to me with a huge smile, hugs me, and gives me kisses. She shares her toys and food with me. She comforts herself by putting her head in my lap or climbing up on me to put her head on my shoulder. She follows me around. She holds my hand.



Masha, Masha, Masha... I am so glad she’s mine.

Yeah Babies, We Got You

Masha was first. But even before we could go get her, we had to stop by the director’s office and sign some papers. The building was dark and quiet... no lights or computers running... no electricity at all. It will be off until winter to save money. Times are tough in Vorzel.

Masha was napping. I had asked if I could go into her living room to take pictures for her scrapbook and I was told that I could. So while I was snapping pics, they woke her up and brought her in and put her on the changing table. I took her outfit from my bag and began dressing her.

No no wait... it is cold outside... Masha will catch cold. You must keep her warm. And with that they brought me tights, an undershirt, a long sleeved shirt, and a white button up sweater... to go with the undies, socks, shoes, dress, and wrap I had for her. I politely declined the shirt but layered on everything else. It was so much stuff that I could not get her dress zipped up!

She looked beautiful and all her nannies were ooohing and ahhing and telling her she is a princess. Masha was very cooperative while I dressed her. She can practically dress herself. Once she was all ready, she charmed everyone by twirling around and showing off. Then we told her to go show papa and she zoomed out to the sitting area to find daddy.







Everyone came to say goodbye to her... all the caretakers and the doctor. Masha was very excited but when it came time for the actual goodbye, she got scared and clung to her doctor. I gently pried her away and began walking her down the sidewalk toward the car. She did not like the seatbelt and did not want to be closed in the car. I was sad for her that she was so terrified but she calmed down once she snuggled on mommy and we started driving.







Next stop, baby house #2 to pick up a nurse from the orphanage who would accompany us to the hospital to help secure Autumn’s release. The orphanage lawyer had already stopped at baby house #2, to make sure that there would not be an issue on the orphanage side seeing how Autumn’s usual doctor was on vacation, so I thought things would go smoothly... I was wrong.

At the hospital we went to a nurse’s office and asked to get Autumn. Suddenly the orphanage nurse was having a back and forth with two nurses from the hospital. Our facilitator tried to negotiate a solution and our translator ran back to the car to get our court decree. I asked her what the problem was and she explained that the orphanage nurse wanted the hospital to write up some paperwork saying that they were releasing Autumn directly to us. The hospital was insisting on releasing her to the orphanage nurse who could then transfer her to me. (Hubby and Masha were waiting in the car.) It took about 30 minutes to get the orphanage nurse to go along with the hospital’s wishes, and she insisted on seeing Autumn to determine if she thought she should be released at all.

You would all be very proud of me for sitting there patiently waiting without yelling at anyone to just give me my baby because, hello, SHE IS MINE. I did ask our translator if we could get her dressed in her gotcha outfit while they wrapped up the skirmish. Nadya asked permission and learned that the orphanage nurse, who was in “checking out Autumn” was actually dressing her to go. Two minutes later she came back with Autumn stuffed into a winter snowsuit complete with the hood pulled up over a hat that was tied down tight. I almost burst out laughing. My poor hot baby.



The orphanage nurse, holding Autumn, was waiting for us just outside the office door. As we walked out she made no move to hand her to me. I was done waiting and being patient. I asked Nadya to tell the nurse to give Autumn to me. The woman did not flinch or change her expression or anything, so I walked over to her and smiled at her as I reached for Autumn and then extracted my child out of her grip. She hovered as if she was waiting for me to give her back, but I didn’t because I am never giving Autumn “back” to anybody.





There is more, lots more to tell, but that was gotcha and the rest will have to wait for another post because you know, babies only sleep just so long...

Noodled Out

Yesterday morning I was sitting on the couch with my husband checking emails and whatnot when I was seized by a tremendous craving.

“I have a craving,” I announced to him.
“For what?” he dutifully inquired.
“For anything that tastes like it is supposed to.”

First I longed for a strawberry milkshake made from real hard strawberry ice cream, a double thick shake craving that immediately morphed into an urge for scrambled eggs and bacon, which then continued on to become an urge for good Mexican food washed down with a chocolate shake.

Don’t get me wrong, the food here is good... or rather the Ukrainian food here is good. We have found a cheap Ukrainian cafeteria where the two of us can fill up for under $15. The food is good quality but it is always a surprise. I go through the line and visually investigate pan after pan of casseroles, salads, fried meats... looking for ingredients that I love (or hate) and then point to the dishes I want. Once we get seated and start eating I find out what I really got... some days it’s good and some days it is... um, not what I expected.

Things that exist at home, like steak or caesar salads or pizza, just do not taste right here, so going out to restaurants is always (slight) hit or (big) miss. In the beginning it was kind of funny but now it is frustrating. Even chips (Pringles and Lays) and candy (Twix and Snickers) taste odd.

Quail eggs (and tomatoes) in my caesar salad...



Before we got here, I had a plan. I was going to grocery shop and cook for us. We would use the money we saved eating out to... well... eat out. But, all I have to cook on is a two-burner gas stove top and a microwave oven. The apartment came stocked with one large frying pan and one large pot. They can’t both fit on the stove top together. And anything recognizable in the grocery store is imported and costs ten times more than I want to spend, and of course it doesn’t taste like it is supposed to because it is imported from Europe not the US.

I have perused five or so grocery stores hoping to find something that will be easy to cook and that will taste ok. A few weeks ago we found the Ukrainian version of Ramen noodles, and they taste good, better than our Ramen noodles (though maybe not... it has been about twenty years since I ate Ramen noodles at home, so who knows.) And so now we eat Ramen noodles... a lot... practically every day (feels like college all over again... minus the Kraft macaroni and cheese).

Our Pantry...



I am noodled out. I know this because of the random cravings I am getting on and off all day everyday now. Then yesterday evening we Skyped with the kids at home. My sweet Gecko popped up in front of the computer holding a melt-in-your-mouth, perfectly browned slice of bacon. I was fixated. With a big grin, he took a bite, and I nearly passed out. I think I am past ready to come home. I am so ready that I might wander over to McDonald’s today and order a fish sandwich just on the off chance that it will taste like a real McD’s filet-o-fish.

In other news... there is no news on Autumn. We are not allowed to go visit her. Tomorrow we are supposed to go pick her up, either from the orphanage or from the hospital if she is still in there.

Modeling the hat we bought her in Romania...



Our visit with Masha yesterday was wonderful. She is such a delight, so playful and energetic. However, after about an hour of being there with her, she went into the room that leads to her living area and started closing the doors. We called out to her, “Paka, paka?” (bye bye?) and she poked her head out and waved goodbye to us. I walked her back to her rooms and she turned and waved at me again. I see this as a very good sign that she is becoming sure of us, knowing that we will be back for her. She has also started to become more affectionate with me, hugging me longer, running to me to avoid a caregiver...



One of my favorite families is arriving in Kyiv tonight. They are adopting Makayla. This means that there are about six families here in the city today. I am hoping we can all get together for dinner tonight or tomorrow... probably at TGIF’s, which doesn’t taste like TGIF’s but is very tolerant of big groups of Americans and has an English-speaking wait staff :-)

Almost "Gotcha"

If you were to do the math, you would realize that our ten day waiting period ended on Saturday, September 18. This means we could have picked the girls up from the orphanage on Monday the 20th, but we didn’t.

Most families are chomping at the bit to take their children out, and we too were looking forward to it. But the doctors, facilitator, and even our translator asked us to please wait for Autumn’s sake. Autumn is only two months out from her major heart reconstruction and although she is doing very well, she has never really been exposed to germs...

When I hold this tiny baby, I can see what my Kimani might have been like if not for the meningitis that robbed her of so much of her vision. Autumn stares right into my eyes with all her fragility and innocence.



There are many times when I second guess and play “what if” about the decisions we made with Kimani when she was in the hospital. In so many ways the situation was similar. It was like she was stuck in prison and we ached to bring her home. Maybe if we had not been so impatient to bring her home, we would not have agreed to a feeding tube... the tube that eventually led to her contracting bacterial meningitis.

Anyway, just so you know, I don’t stop the game there and wallow in sorrow and guilt... I always play it out to the end... when two years ago today she underwent the double heart surgery that saved her life. Without the weeks of being sick, she would not have had those two surgeries in the same day, and who knows what the outcome would have been for her if her aorta had been cut apart two months earlier, and her heart operated on four months later.

I tell you this just so that you can understand why I would let Masha and Autumn spend an extra week in an orphanage, rather than in my arms in the heart of Kyiv. I was afraid that Autumn would get sick, really sick, life-changing sick.

Yesterday was gotcha day. We were so excited. We brought their beautiful dresses with us to the orphanage. Five minutes from Vorzel, our facilitator got a phone call... Autumn is in the hospital. We continued to the orphanage and after many conversations with the staff and the hospital, we found out that she has cold-like symptoms and a fever. She will not be released before Monday.

Part of me thinks that maybe they are just being overly cautious, but the other part thinks they don’t take babies from the orphanage to the hospital for a just a cold. We are trying to get permission to visit her. I feel like if I can see her I will be able to tell how serious it is.

Please pray for Autumn that this is something that she will beat in a couple days.

Smooching with daddy (video)

Erased

When we went to court on September 8 in support of our petition to adopt Masha and Autumn we knew that the decision had already been made and that this was more of a formality than anything else. But of course we were nervous that we might say something stupid and then the judge could slam down her gravel and throw us out with no babies.

On one side of the room sat the judge at her desk, along with the prosecutor and two jury members. On the other side we sat side-by-side in a row of chairs lined up against the wall, us, our translator, a social worker and the orphanage director. This judge was not the usual judge in this region and she rarely does international adoptions. She actually read our very long petition out loud in the courtroom.

And then came the questions... between my husband and I, we answered ten or so questions posed by the judge, prosecutor, and women of the jury. “How did you find these children?” “Why do you want more children when you already have so many children?” “Where do the children sleep and will your adopted children have the same privileges as your biological children?” “Why did you choose children with Down syndrome?”

Some questions are cut and dried, and easy to answer, like how our house is set up. Other questions are more complicated, like why do you want more children or why did you choose to adopt from Ukraine... And still other questions just can’t be answered fully and honestly if one wishes to remain tactful, like why Down syndrome...

But we got through it and the judge made a short speech, making things official. One of the things she said was that the names of Masha and Autumn’s biological parents would be erased from their birth certificates and that our names would replace them.

Erased. Their flesh and blood, deleted... wiped away forever in the records. From this day on I will be listed as the birth mother of Masha and Autumn. The only remnants of their past are their birth dates, places, and Masha’s first name. The rest has been erased. Their personal histories have been rewritten.

That struck me very hard. Their own mothers... not dead but erased, as if they never existed at all. And I, feeling somewhat like an imposter or perhaps even a thief, have stepped in and assumed them.

One day I will not feel like this. I will look at those certificates and know they are true. Because one day, Masha and Autumn will understand what a Mama is, and they will love me... their mama... with all their hearts, and this will prove to me that you cannot erase what never was.