Adoption Blogger Day

Well, there have certainly been a lot of Russian adoption headlines recently, and not in a good way. The latest incident sparking the headlines was the return of a 7 yr old Russian boy adopted by an American woman. She just put him on a plane to Moscow alone, with a note in his backpack. I won't go into it much, other than to say that I find it a bizarre story. I've certainly read many agonizing Russian adoption stories since we started our own adoption process. I was obsessed for a while, reading the good, bad, and ugly. Never quite read one like this, however. Not sure how that ever would have seemed a good idea. There are so many other options. But the good news, I suppose, is that no one was killed, as was the case in some other stories. It is still very sad.

One positive that came out of that story is how the adoption community has come together so quickly to try and show Russia, and the US for that matter, that this story was an isolated incident and not the norm. A campaign was started called We Are The Truth, and a petition was signed by over 20,000 people who want Russia to know that they think this was not a typical story, was a terrible thing to happen, and that there are many successful adoptions out there. Today has also been deemed Adoption Blogger day, when everyone is supposed to tell their successful adoption story.

So this is mine. Our adoption was/is successful. No doubt about it. Easy? No. Quick adjustment period? Depends on your idea of quick. We had a good six months of frayed nerves, upset children (not just from Russia), and plenty of crying, screaming, craziness. We're better now. Not perfect, of course. The circumstances of our son's first 19 months have left their mark, in some ways more subtle than others. It's not something we think about every day, however. Mostly I just think of it as part and parcel of who he is. Nine months after bringing him home, he is such an important part of our family. He is enthusiastic, energetic, smart, funny, strong, and charismatic. He is loving and affectionate, and I have to believe that he had people in his life, in the orphanage, who showed him love and affection. I believe they truly cared about him. The day we left the summer home with Owen, a sweet young caregiver rode with us into town, and as she got out of the van to walk to the bus station she held my hand, looked me in the eye and told me in English "I am happy." even as she was starting to cry. I'm very grateful for her, and for all those who watched out for him before me. I absolutely could not love him more.

One of the more surprising things about adopting has been the joy it has brought. Of course I expected to feel joy about a new baby in the family. But the joy I'm referring to is different. When I was a young woman (a long time ago...) there were times when I didn't have much faith in people. In fact, I would say I was not sure if bringing a child into the world was even that great of an idea. All very dramatic, I know, for someone with a perfectly fine childhood and life. Still, I was very cynical. I think having children changed that a lot. It definitely gave me hope for the future, and a deeper joy than I'd ever experienced. But I think that seeing unending possibilities in your biological children is somewhat to be expected. I mean, you know that you are a decent person, so of course you expect to feel that your children are as well. What I've discovered with Owen is that I feel the exact same way about a child not of my own gene pool. Yes, I'm sure I more or less expected to feel this way, or I would not have considered adoption. But I can honestly say that looking into Owen's beautiful eyes and seeing his innocence, his joy, his love, his enthusiasm for life, despite all that he has endured already, gave me a greater sense of hope and joy. Strange, perhaps, because it could have made me bitter about his early trauma, or more cynical after seeing an orphanage with 400 children and knowing there are so many more. But it didn't. Instead, it has filled me with a soaring hope as I see the world through, or maybe in, my son's eyes. I can see his endless possibilities, his potential for goodness and capacity for love. And he didn't come from me. This belief that all children have such a huge potential has changed my outlook. Anything is possible. Yes, I know that all sorts of things could go wrong. He could make terrible choices in life and not fulfill the possibilities that I see. That can and does happen to all of us because we're human. But it won't take away my joy at knowing that we all start out with such potential. The beauty and hope in a young life has renewed my faith in humanity, it seems, come what may.