Adoption: A Forever Mommy Finding a Forever Child

Adoption is often seen as a grand gesture that saves the adoptive child. But that is only half of the story. Adoption is not a heroic event. Adopting a child is a human event. Adoption is not one sided. It is a gift to both the mother and the child. For a mother unable to have a child, while everyone around her can, adoption is quite simply a miracle.

When I adopted my daughter, many people told me what a wonderful thing I was doing for her. The fact was that by becoming my daughter she was doing an amazing thing for me.By becoming my daughter, she allowed me to experience motherhood. My adopted and much loved daughter continually gives the gift of herself, a child to love, a child look up to me, who loves me unwaveringly and who allows me to teach and guide her through her life. Adopting a child enriches not only the child's life but the parent's life as well. She gave me a life to love when my body was incapable of carrying one to full term, a blessing and capability that many parents take for granted. Adoption gives a child a home but that child brings life and love to a house and to an otherwise childless mother. Adoption is not a straight line, but a circle of giving and receiving.

My child was seven months old when I adopted her from Russia. She had been taken care of by an overworked and underfunded staff of very caring nurses and doctors. They had loving and caring natures, but they didn't have the time to spend with each orphan they had in their care. The one thing they wished for was that each child in their care would find a forever home, that they would be adopted by someone who would love and care for them, teach them and guide them and make them their own. The going away party they threw for the three baby girls being adopted that trip was very emotional and very touching. In a speech during the ceremony, they in essence handed over children from their country to find a home in ours. Giving her to me as an adoptive mother,they entrusted the seed of their country to my hands, to help her to grow and flower in this one, and in this heart. That is an amazing gift.

From the second I saw two photographs of her that were already two months old that the adoption agency gave me, and a one minute video of her at the same age, about three months of age, I loved her. I watched the video over and over, hundreds of times. The two little photographs went with me everywhere, even under my pillow at night. The wait to go and get her and finalize the adoption, while wading through a mountain of paperwork, red tape and interviews, was interminable.

In that time period, by Russian adoption law, the birth parents still retained the right to change their minds and come back and get her from the orphanage. Until I received an official invitation from the Russian government with a set court date, I could lose her. The day I received notice I went with another adopting mother to the Russian consulate to apply for my temporary visa. I was not able to do that until the Russian government gave me a specific court date and an invitation to come to their country to get my child.

I knew my daughter was my daughter from the moment I saw her. My heart ached knowing she was sitting in the orphanage while I was thousands of miles away wanting to pick her up and hold her that very instant. I was not going through the same physical turmoil that a natural birth mother was going through but I was experiencing every bit of emotion, anticipation, excitement and fear of losing my child that any birth mother experiences. In an instant I could lose my baby who, although she had not grown in my body, had already intertwined herself in my heart. My child was there and she needed me. Adoption would be a miracle for both of us.

After going through the many months waiting and the wonderful trip to Russia to get her, where I was immersed in a new culture that I drank up like a sponge, I was finally able to bring her home. Her little room was ready for her, decorated with a mother's love, hope and anticipation. The crib was sitting all made up and my arms were open and ready to hold her, the same way that my heart was already cradling her.

For the first few weeks she was my daughter, after the adoption was finalized in a Russian court, she would watch me intently. Each time she saw me and each time she woke she would get a look on her face that almost said, "Oh, it is you again. I like you, but are you sticking around? Who are you really? " Finally one morning I went in to get her up and start the day. Her face lit up like sunshine when she saw me. If she could have spoken at seven months, she would have squealed, "My mommy!" It was as if something had clicked and she finally knew for sure that not only had she been adopted, but that she had found her forever mommy. From that moment on, her face lights up whenever she sees me or her voice sings when she hears me from far away, and my heart melts.

Adoption may not be the normal way to have a child, but adopting a child is as much of a miracle to me as carrying her in my womb would have been. "Mommy" is a beautiful and amazing word, when it comes from the mouth of my child.