Seventeen years ago, I embarked on a journey to Moscow to adopt my 2-year-old daughter, Lily. Friends and coworkers praised my decision, calling it selfless and noble, claiming I was saving a life. My neighbors lauded my generosity, noting how I could have spent that money on a luxurious vacation instead. But deep down, I wanted to shout, “This is for me!” I wasn’t focused on the countless children in orphanages; I was at a point in my life where I yearned for motherhood. After navigating a divorce and a few failed relationships, I was determined to take charge of my future.
I explored various paths to motherhood. Given my age and history with breast cancer, pregnancy felt too risky. Domestic adoption often took years, and being of Russian descent made the thought of adopting from there feel particularly resonant. So, with resolve, I began the process.
Confession No. 1
As the adoption hearing approached, I found myself questioning my decision. Alone in a Moscow hotel room, I was haunted by doubt as cockroaches scuttled along the walls. The head of the adoption agency had warned, “If you’re going to change your mind, do it before the hearing.” The knot in my stomach tightened. I had visited Lily at the orphanage earlier that day and felt no connection. I remember thinking, “This can’t be the same adorable girl from the video.” But it was. When she was handed to me, she cried, and my instinct was to return her to the caregiver. I wanted to comfort her and, if I’m honest, I was terrified of the whole situation.
Confession No. 2
The hearing itself was surreal. I felt as if I were watching the events unfold from a distance. When I finally took Lily from the orphanage, her tears made me second-guess myself. I hesitated, and in that moment, I thought, “What have I gotten into?”
Confession No. 3
The early years were tumultuous. Lily had intense tantrums, especially during car rides, and I was thankful to find a daycare in my office building. After three months of being by her side, I had to return to work. As I drove to daycare, her screams echoed in my ears. Yet, amidst the chaos, there were precious moments. Her boundless curiosity shone through: “Look at the birdies, Mama!” and “Look at the sky!”
Then came adolescence, with attachment issues and risky behaviors emerging. She would sneak out of school or stay out all night, and the swearing was relentless. Friends would ask, “You don’t regret this, do you? You’d do it again, right?” I often pondered that question, wrestling with thoughts of, “What have I done?”
Despite my darker moments, which I believe all parents experience—whether adoptive or biological—I must confess that Lily has opened up my heart in ways that no partner or friend ever could.
Now that she’s 19, life feels calmer. While she’s not like me in many respects—I’m an avid reader, while she’d rather endure a dentist appointment than pick up a book—our differences have deepened my understanding of love. Each parent has their own hopes and dreams for their children, and I certainly did. However, when our children diverge from our expectations, we realize that the journey of parenthood is about accepting them for who they are. Perhaps that is the essence of unconditional love.
For more insights on family planning, check out this post about intracervical insemination for different perspectives. If you’re considering methods of conception, BabyMaker’s at-home insemination kit is a great resource. Additionally, this article on the IVF process provides valuable information for anyone on a similar journey.
In summary, the path of adoption is filled with challenges and joys that shape not just the child, but also the parent. Embracing our differences and nurturing unconditional love is what truly defines our relationship.