Seventeen years ago, I embarked on a life-changing journey to Moscow to bring home my little girl, then just two years old. Friends and family praised my decision, calling it altruistic and selfless. “How wonderful of you to save a life!” they exclaimed. Though I appreciated their sentiments, inside I wanted to shout, “No! This is for me!” I wasn’t focused on the toddler in the orphanage who might face a challenging future if not adopted; rather, I was at a crossroads in my life after a divorce and a series of unfulfilling relationships. I simply wanted to be a mom.
I considered various options to make my dream a reality. Pregnancy felt risky due to my age and medical history, and I learned that domestic adoptions could take years. Given my family roots in Russia, the connection felt significant to me. I dove into the process with determination.
Confession #1
Just before the adoption hearing, I nearly had a change of heart. Alone in a hotel room in Moscow, I found myself surrounded by the unsettling sight of cockroaches scuttling across cracked walls. My interpreter was set to accompany me to the hearing the next morning, and the head of the adoption agency cautioned, “If you’re having second thoughts, now’s the time to act.” My stomach churned with anxiety.
That afternoon, I met my soon-to-be daughter at the orphanage, and I felt nothing. I worried I had the wrong child, saying, “That’s not the adorable toddler from the video!” But it was. When she ran from me and threw the beanie baby I brought, I felt a pang of doubt.
Confession #2
The adoption hearing felt surreal, almost like I was watching myself from afar. When the caregiver handed my daughter to me, she sobbed uncontrollably, and in a moment of panic, I handed her back! I now tell myself it was to let the caregiver offer her more comfort, but truthfully, I was terrified. What had I done?
Confession #3
The initial years were a rollercoaster filled with tantrums—oh, the tantrums! I was fortunate to find a daycare in the same building as my office, but after three months of nonstop togetherness, I needed to return to work. The car rides were filled with her screams, but amidst the chaos were moments of pure joy as she exclaimed, “Look at the birdies, Mama!”
Then came the tumultuous teenage years, where attachment issues manifested in risky behaviors. I faced late nights, school absences, and a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush. Despite my struggles, friends often asked, “You don’t regret it, do you? You’d do it all over again?” Truthfully, I’d sometimes ponder, “What have I gotten myself into?”
Yet, through all the ups and downs, my daughter has opened my heart in ways I never imagined. Now that she’s 19, life has settled a bit. She’s her own person, different from me in many ways—while I devour books, she’d rather tackle anything but reading. I embrace my active lifestyle, while she groans at the idea of walking the dog. Like every parent, I had expectations for her, dreams of who I thought she’d become. But when those hopes don’t align with reality, we must learn to love them for who they truly are. Maybe that’s the essence of unconditional love.
If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination, check out this insightful post on intracervical insemination. For a deeper dive into artificial insemination, Make a Mom offers great resources. And if you’re looking for comprehensive information on pregnancy, the CDC is an excellent resource.
In summary, the journey of being an adoptive mom is filled with challenges, surprises, and unconditional love. It’s about embracing the unique path that unfolds and accepting our children for who they are, not who we hoped they would be.