My Adoption Story

My quest to adopt my daughter began when I was fairly young. I don't know exactly where the idea came from; I have just always known that I wanted to adopt a child when I grew up.

I gave birth to my biological daughter when I was 24, and when she was almost a year old I felt I was ready to pursue my childhood longing to grow my family through adoption. I did a great deal of research and finally contracted with an agency that I had a great deal of confidence in. They had an excellent track record, their fees were affordable, and I heard nothing but good things about them from families who had adopted children with their help.

The first question my agency tasked me with seemed like a simple one, yet it proved to be surprisingly difficult. I had to decide what country I wanted to pursue for my international adoption. Being a single woman narrowed my choices down, as did the fact that I had a biological child and am not infertile. I discussed my options with my contact at the adoption agency for weeks, until finally I decided what was important to me: I wanted a female child, younger than my biological daughter, who was healthy and came from an orphanage with a good child to caretaker ratio. With that information in hand, the clear choice was the program that the agency had in India.

I went on the waiting list with my adoption agency for a child in late January of 2002. The agency told me that India doesn't operate on a set time-line; some children come home within six months, others take two years to clear the red tape and bring their new child home. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to why one child was able to come to her new home faster than another. After moving slowly up the waiting list for months, finally in October of 2002 I was informed that I was now the first person on the waiting list for a healthy toddler girl.

In early January of 2003, nearly one year after I had been put on the waiting list, I received a call from my contact at the agency, Jennifer. A little girl had just been released for international adoption, and she had just emailed me a picture of her along with some general information. Cursed with a dial-up internet connection, I couldn't talk on the phone with Jennifer and pull up my e-mail at the same time. So I asked Jennifer the important questions: was this little girl healthy, how old was she, what history did we have on her? The answers were all positive, so I told Jennifer I would accept the referral. Jennifer hesitated for a moment, then asked if I wanted to look at her picture first and call her back later after I had a chance to think it over. I replied that I didn't care what she looked like; I could feel it in my gut, somehow I just knew that this little girl was the one I was meant to add to my family.

Jennifer and I hung up with the promise that I would have the toddler's official paperwork sent to me the next day, and I pulled up the email so I could spread the good news around. As the picture loaded, my heart skipped a beat and I felt tears fill my eyes. I was looking at an absolutely beautiful little girl with huge brown eyes that seemed to take up her whole face. She looked so lost and sad that it wrenched my heart.

It took over a year from that day until I brought my daughter home in March of 2004. Multiple trips to the immigration office were made, I got to know the people who worked at the local post office on a first-name basis, and every time I turned around there was another delay in her homecoming. Each day I waited felt like an eternity, every paperwork snafu knotted my stomach and made me yearn to bring my daughter home safely.

Bailey Santoshi was 2 years and 8 months old, to the day, when I finally wrapped my arms around her little exhausted, jet-lagged body for the first time. She was disoriented, having spent the past 24 hours on an airplane, and she wasn't too happy about being handed over to a complete stranger. Bailey cried for the first twenty minutes as I held her before finally succumbing to exhaustion and falling asleep in my arms. She weighed in at a measly 22 pounds, so it was easy enough to carry her through the airport and onto our flight home.

It took Bailey every bit of two months before she would let me out of her sight. I was her lifeline, the one constant thing in her new world. She slept in a toddler bed in my bedroom, sat on the toilet in the bathroom to watch me shower, and followed me around the house from room to room like my shadow. Even today, she likes to be close to me, and I fondly refer to her as my "Velcro child."

Bailey has been home for nearly 5 years as I am writing this article. She has blossomed into a smart, beautiful little girl who literally has the boys tripping over themselves to keep up with her. Bailey is a rising Karate star, loves animals, and can't wait until she's old enough to help me show our dogs. She happily helps me with any animal related chore, fights with her older sister as siblings will do, and has absolutely thrived in our family. I know that Bailey will always be small for her age, due to her inadequate childhood nutrition, but she will forever be a big part of our family. I feel truly fortunate to have her in my life.