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 | Meeting Max - Our Ukranian Adoption Story
by Jennifer Brinkley |
There we sat. In the reception area of the Republican Children’s Home “Yelochka,” my husband, William, and I nervously waited. We were hopeful to be matched with a child or children that would ultimately form our new family.
It was the culmination of almost a year’s worth of work. The paper chasing frenzy, a trans-Atlantic flight to Ukraine connecting in Frankfurt, three days in Kyyiv including a visit to the National Adoption Center, and finally the flight to Simferopol on the 1960s twin propeller plane that we arrived on that morning.
Even today, I still search for the right words to describe how I felt at that moment — something between sheer terror and eager anticipation. It was almost like watching a scary movie, so terrifying you cover your eyes, but still peek through your fingers to see what happens next. I desperately wanted to fast forward to a happy ending, but still didn’t want to miss a minute! Of course everyone knows there is no “fast forward” button in adoption, so this is the way it would be. Whether we liked it or not, we’d spend our last “carefree” minutes before parenthood with knots in our stomachs.
International adoption in Ukraine works a little differently than other countries. There is no pre-identification or referral process prior to arriving at an orphanage in the country. In essence, the referral happens in person when you meet the child. While this eliminates some common fears about adopting, such as lack of involvement in the matching process or the possibility of losing a referral, it also creates new challenges.
Our home study social worker had prepared us for this situation, but we were still nervous. Following her advice, we made a plan: we would accept the first healthy child under 2 years old that was presented to us. In the back of our minds we still knew, after meeting face to face, it would be extremely difficult to turn down a match regardless of the circumstances. In the event we had to say no, we wondered — how would we ever be able to do it?
When we first arrived at the Children’s Home, we met with the director. We answered questions about our background: Who we were, what we liked to do, what kind of child were we interested in. We explained we were hoping to start a family, and our paperwork indicated we were “suitable to adopt an infant or infant twins between the ages of 0-18 months possessing the capacity for normal long-term growth and development.” The director seemed nice, and explained that his facility had many wonderful children of all ages who needed homes. We could wait in the waiting area while they reviewed our paperwork.
In the reception room our stomachs churned. We watched people come in and out of the double door front entrance. Trying to stave off a jittery panic, I asked my husband “Why does only one side of the double doors ever seem to work in this country?” Two more came through the door and wiped their feet on what appeared to be a small wrinkled mat on the floor. Quickly saying “Hello” in Russian, they hurried through on official business. As I made a note to remember to wipe my feet when I saw one of those mat-like things near a door, I was interrupted by our translator, “Okay, we are going.”
Turning left out of the waiting room, we were hurried down a dark hallway. At the end, half-shadowed silhouettes hovered around a small head. A comb appeared to quickly smooth down some stray hairs. At the time, we didn’t know that small head was our son-to-be’s. Soon it would be our job to smooth down that adorable cowlick we love so much now.
We made a quick right into the assistant director’s window office, and there was Maxsym. Sitting on his caretaker’s lap, blinking in the sunlight. We handed him a board book we made for this occasion. It had pictures of us, family members, our house and our dog. He was a beautiful happy boy. Our panic melted, he was the one.
As my eyes filled with tears, the chief pediatrician opened Max’s file. First the reading began, then the translation over the reading. How overwhelming! Max’s medical background, the relinquishment circumstances, as well as what little they knew about his birth parents, in Russian and English at the same time! For just a moment I flashed to the future. After a quick imaginary conversation with an older Max asking questions about his adoption, I realized I needed to pull myself together. I didn’t want, “Sorry honey, I missed that part because I was crying,” to become a reality!
When the reading finished, we knew we had to make a decision quickly and on the spot. This was another one of the challenges created by Ukraine’s unique referral process. Before we left home, we prepared for this moment by bringing a GSM cell phone from the United States, and by arranging to contact a doctor from the International Adoption Clinic at Hasbro Children’s Hospital in Rhode Island. Because he spoke Russian, we were lucky to have our doctor speak with the chief pediatrician at the Children’s Home. He was able to calm our nerves, and explain some of the medical terminology to us in layman’s terms. Of course we had already fallen in love with Max, but it was reassuring to know what it all meant.
The next day the paperwork began. Our job was to process a mountain of paperwork in a week, so we could schedule a court date. The official documents were beautiful to look at. The sheets were hand sewn together with thread by notaries, certified with beautiful stamps, and wax seals holding down red string that was threaded from the back to front of each first page authenticating it as original. These papers became symbolic to us with each one we collected. They were literally binding us together as a family. We liked the idea they were using something more permanent than the staples and paperclips we were used to.
On our off days, weekends when the notaries and public offices were closed, the paperwork was substituted with excursions planned by our translator and guide. Yalta, Chafut-Kale, Swallow’s Nest, Alupka Palace and its rosemary hedges, even a cable car ride to the top of St. Peters Mountain to watch the snow covered peaks melt into the sea below. The beauty of Crimea and the Black Sea is incomparable.
On February 13th, Max made a special day even more special. The day of our seven and a half-year wedding anniversary, we were awarded a favorable decision to adopt by the judge in a Ukrainian court. The most difficult part of the ruling was we would have to wait 30 days for the decision to take effect. After a hard discussion, we decided to return home to wait the 30 days and prepare for Max’s arrival — but not before his birthday in two days!
We planned a small party and brought some little gifts including a buzzing bee, which still hangs in Max’s crib today. We brought cake, cookies, candy, tea and apples for the other children and caretakers — to thank them for their kindness and wonderful care they had shown our son. One month to the day of our court decision, we returned to the Children’s Home at 6:30 a.m. to pick up Max and catch an early flight to Kyyiv. We finished a last bit of paperwork in Ukraine’s beautiful capital, said a final goodbye to Max’s birth country, and boarded a flight to Warsaw, Poland.
Waiting for Max’s travel visa at the American Embassy in Warsaw, we saw an amazing sight. What a wonderful thing adoption is! There were at least a dozen families with stories like ours, waiting for visas to bring their new family member home. Such an incredible thing to see — all these families, many opening their hearts to older children, adjusting beautifully after two short days of being together. Even the language barrier seemed like only a minimal issue at this point. Max and I sat in the play area with the other kids, read flap books, and made animal sounds. We’d fly home tomorrow!
Today it has been seven months since arriving home, and Max has entered toddler-hood by storm. He is a healthy, active boy with a zest for life. At 21 months he insists on climbing on everything, and running everywhere. International adoption was a wonderful experience for us. We feel honored and blessed to have our son as well as the rich Ukrainian culture part of our family. Max is surrounded by loving grandparents, aunts, uncles, extended family and friends, and brightens everyone’s day with his smile. He’s the center of our universe.
My husband and I love talking to people interested in adopting from Ukraine. There are many smart, beautiful children of all ages available for international adoption. One of the first things we usually say is what an enormous help it was having competent professionals to guide us through every step of the process. Thanks to our adoption agency Wide Horizons For Children and our translator and guides in Ukraine, everything went smoothly and efficiently. It was a relief to have such a wonderful support network to rely on. We will always treasure our journey to Ukraine and the first day we met our son Max. Without question, it will always be one of the best days of my life.
Jennifer Brinkley was a graphic designer and marketing consultant before becoming a stay-at-home mom. She and her husband traveled to Ukraine to adopt their son.
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