Russia Adoption: Risks and Rewards

You may have heard about the recent controversy that started when Tennesse mom Torry Hansen returned her 7 year old boy Justin  to Moscow with a note indicating the boy was psychotic and she no longer wanted to parent him.  The case has prompted Russia to come startlingly close to suspending its adoption program in the U.S.

Our family was one of the approximately 1600 who travelled to Russia in 2009 to adopt a child.  Since today has been designated We Are The Truth Adoption Blogger Day by the Joint Council on International Children’s Services, I want to share our incredible experience, our beautiful and wonderful 3 year old boy, and the devastating future more than 700 thousand not-so-fortunate  Russian orphans face. 

My husband Derrick and I did months of research before committing to adopt from Russia.    We needed to find the  right adoption agency for us and to do our homework about the medical and psychological conditions children who have been institutionalized face.   In August 2009 we  started mountain ranges of paperwork in hopes of adopting a little brother for our biological son and completing our family. Then, we waited, read and Googled.

Those of us in the adoption community normally throw around acronyms like RAD and FAS and book titles like Beyond Consequences and the Connected Child like they are every day household terms, because to most of  us, they are. We are well aware children who have spent years in institutions are at risk for a multitude of problems, but also that many of them thrive and even excel when in the right environment.  Derrick and I  learned the first 6 months or even  year could be a difficult adjustment for our family, and I met dozens of adoptive families in person and online who had plenty of advice.  Experiences varied but there were no regrets.   Most adoptive parents I know are familiar with adoption risks and how to best deal with problems that may occur. That’s our responsibility to our new child and existing family.

7 months later we received a set of photos and medical documents for Jhenya, a 2 year old boy who was relinquished at birth and had spent his entire short life in Baby House 2 in Chita, Siberia, a far away place where  anti-government rebels called Decembrists had been exiled in 1825.  He looked a little scary in some of the photos, had a blank stare in others, was playing with a few toys in others.

We prepared for the possibility our healthy looking son-to-be might not be healthy.  We had his medical records carefully analyzed by a team of Russian adoption medical experts.   We read the books on the attachment issues children face who have been ignored and neglected and how not being held or comforted can change a baby’s brain chemistry permanently.  We read  how children with Reactive Attachment Disorder can be violent, can lack the capacity to love, but also can be absolutely fine with help.   Children can be amazing survivors.

We made two trips to Moscow and Siberia to visit the orphanage.  Jhenya  was incredibly adorable, even though he wore funny Eastern European girls clothes, sometimes practically rags.  

We were in love with him at first glimpse.  He, on the other hand,  was scared of the American strangers though he loved our laptop, cellphones and snacks.  He loved his caregivers and called them all Mama: Mama Nina, Mama Katia, etc.  He was very happy in his orphanage because he knew no other life.  After all, he was two.    

We brought a terrified, wide eyed toddler home from Russia on May 23rd, 2009.  We did the best we could with what are known as “Attachment Parenting” techniques: cocooning the family at home,  limiting visitors,  just playing and bonding.   There was lots of  hugging, kissing and affection and James Christian, (whom we still call Jhenya, his Russian name) slept in our bed at night, clinging to me for dear life.   We loved him instantly and he very soon clung to us  not just for safety and sustenance but because he loved  us too.  In about a month we felt like a normal family of four. 

The adjustment period can be long and difficult with a post-institutionalized  child.  I consider ours short and relatively painless: sleep problems, a few tantrums, lots of touching, grabbing and experimenting with everything from appliances to makeup to dog food. ( Orphanages offer very little stimulation,  very choices, and few glimpses of what the outside world is really like. )  It’s not unlike having a newborn and lots of patience is required.

Jhenya is a beautiful, bright, funny, healthy and  adorable boy. He is loving and sweet,  shy with  strangers, eager to learn and full of smiles and giggles.   His English is good and improving all the time.  His mistakes are always so cute:  “I need the help!”, “May I have a milk”, “I need paper toilet” etc.  He and his brother Nicholas,5 are the loves of our lives and our family would not be the same without him.  So far, we are a very fortunate family in that we did not have to dig into our arsenal of attachment therapy books or seek help for behavior, socialization or learning problems.  Are we home free?  Absolutely not. We are in our forties with two small children; the next 20 years will be fraught with challenges.   Jhenya knows he is adopted but doesn’t fully understand.  What will happen when he really understands his birth mother gave him up and kept his three older siblings?  Scary stuff.  But we’re in.   Whatever the future holds,  Jhenya and Nicholas are our sons.  

One percent of  Russian adoptions in the U.S. are “disrupted”, which usually means being placed with another U.S. family, not put on a plane back to Moscow.  But there are more than 50 thousand happy, thriving  Russian children in the U.S. whose adoptive families love and cherish them.  Some have  issues.  Many of us parents and our biological children have issues too.

To me, it is Dickensonian that there still exists a system where children are given up due to poverty and alcoholism and remain in spartan orphanages where there is medical care but often inadequate nutrition and little or no love.  Seeing the orphans and their homes is heartbreaking, yet I also feel drawn to them.  There are too many orphans  for  Russia to adequately take care of.   They need us.  And the 3000 American families waiting to adopt from Russia, with their eyes wide open about what to expect, need those kids.

I thank Russia for our son and for his loving nature despite his rough start.  I hope and pray Russian  adoption will continue for parents who are committed, prepared  and realistic.