Seventeen years ago, I journeyed to Moscow to welcome my 2-year-old daughter into my life. Colleagues praised my altruism, claiming I was saving a life. Neighbors lauded my sacrifice, suggesting I could have opted for a luxurious vacation instead. Inside, I longed to shout, “This is for me!” At that moment, I wasn’t focused on the toddler in the orphanage, who faced a bleak future if not adopted. After navigating a divorce and several unsuccessful relationships, I felt the urgent desire to become a mother—it was that simple.
I thoroughly considered my options. Given my age and history with breast cancer, pregnancy posed significant risks. I learned that domestic adoptions could take years. However, I felt a personal connection to Russia, as my grandmother had emigrated from there. Thus, I took the first steps.
Confession No. 1
At the last moment, I nearly reconsidered. Alone in a hotel room in Moscow, with cockroaches scuttling across the cracked walls, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. The adoption hearing was scheduled for the next morning, and my interpreter was set to accompany me. The head of the adoption agency had warned, “If you change your mind, do it before the hearing, not after.” My stomach churned with anxiety.
Visiting my soon-to-be daughter in the orphanage earlier that day left me feeling detached. I questioned whether she was the right child. “That’s not the adorable toddler from the video,” I told the interpreter. “Please check.” But it was indeed her; she ran from me and threw the beanie baby I had brought on the floor in frustration.
Confession No. 2
The adoption hearing felt surreal. I felt as if I were observing myself from afar. When I finally took my daughter from the caregiver, she cried as she was handed to me. In a moment of panic, I instinctively returned her to the caregiver, hoping she could provide comfort. I was terrified, questioning my decision.
Confession No. 3
The early years were fraught with challenges, filled with intense tantrums, especially during car rides. I was fortunate to find daycare near my workplace, but after spending three months with her, I had to return to work. The car rides were filled with her screams. Yet, there were moments of pure joy, with her endless curiosity shining through: “Look at the birdies, Mama!” “Look at the sky!” “Look at all the colors!”
As she entered adolescence, attachment issues surfaced, leading to risky behaviors like skipping school and late nights out. These challenges underscored the necessity for therapy. Friends often asked, “You wouldn’t change a thing, would you?” I would pause, knowing I sometimes harbored thoughts of “What have I done?”
Despite these dark moments, a profound truth emerged: my daughter opened my heart in ways no partner or friend ever could. Now 19, she has settled into a calmer phase, though we remain different in many respects. I am an avid reader; she would rather endure a dentist appointment than pick up a book. Physical activity is essential for me, while she often complains about walking the dog.
As parents, we all nurture expectations and fantasies about our children’s futures. However, when they diverge from our hopes, we find ourselves in a unique position. We can’t return them; instead, we learn to love and accept them as they are, perhaps embodying the essence of unconditional love.
For those interested in expanding their family, exploring options like artificial insemination may also be beneficial. Check out this resource on home insemination and consider products like the home insemination syringe kit for your journey. Furthermore, for more information on what to expect during your first IUI, visit this helpful guide.
In conclusion, the journey of motherhood—whether through adoption or other means—offers profound lessons in love, acceptance, and self-discovery.