Seventeen years ago, I set off on an incredible journey to Moscow to bring home my 2-year-old daughter, Anna. Friends and colleagues praised me, saying, “How selfless of you. You’re saving a life.” My neighbors highlighted my generosity, even suggesting I could have spent my savings on a vacation in a tropical paradise. But inside, I wanted to shout, “No, this isn’t just about altruism; it’s about me!” Honestly, I was not focused on the little girl in the orphanage who faced an uncertain future if not adopted. After going through a divorce and a few failed relationships, I had arrived at a pivotal moment in my life—I wanted to be a mother, plain and simple.
I explored various options for motherhood. Given my age and history with breast cancer, pregnancy posed risks, and I was aware that domestic adoption could take years. Having a personal connection to Russia through my grandmother, I felt a strong pull towards adopting from there. So, I took action.
Confession No. 1
I nearly backed out at the last minute. Alone in a rundown hotel in Moscow, cockroaches scuttled across the cracked walls. With the legal adoption hearing set for the next morning, my interpreter was there to assist me. The head of the adoption agency warned, “If you have second thoughts, voice them before the hearing, not after.” My stomach churned with anxiety.
Earlier that day, I had visited Anna at the orphanage but felt nothing. I doubted I had the right child. “That’s not the adorable toddler from the video,” I told my interpreter. “Please check again.” But it was indeed her. When the caregiver handed her to me, she sobbed, and in a moment of panic, I instinctively handed her back! I later justified it by saying I wanted her to be comforted, but deep down, I was terrified and thought, “What have I done?”
Confession No. 2
The adoption hearing was a surreal experience. I felt detached, as if I were a spectator in my own life. When the moment came to take Anna from the orphanage, the tears she shed broke my heart. In that instant, I questioned everything about my decision.
Confession No. 3
The early years were tough. Tantrums were a way of life, particularly during car rides. I was fortunate to find a daycare close to my office, which allowed me to balance work and motherhood. Anna screamed all the way to and from daycare. Yet, there were also moments of sheer joy—her boundless curiosity brought light into my life: “Look at the birdies, Mama.” “Look at the sky.” “Look at all the colors!”
As she moved into adolescence, attachment issues surfaced, resulting in risky behaviors—skipping school, staying out late, and a lot of swearing directed at me. Friends would ask, “You don’t regret doing this, do you? You’d do it all over again, right?” I often thought, “What have I gotten myself into?” Yet, despite the dark moments that all parents experience, adoptive or biological, I confess that Anna has opened my heart in ways no partner or friend ever could.
Now she has just turned 19, and life feels calmer. Although she’s very different from me—I devour books while she’d rather endure dental work than read—our love remains unwavering. I’ve learned that all parents have hopes and dreams for their children, but when those expectations aren’t met, the real challenge is to love them unconditionally. After all, we can’t give them back; we must embrace them for who they truly are. Perhaps this is the essence of unconditional love.
In summary
My journey as an adoptive mother has been filled with ups and downs, self-discovery, and ultimately, profound love. If you’re considering similar paths to parenthood, there are resources available that can guide you, like this excellent article on planning for fertility treatment. For those interested in at-home insemination options, check out this reputable retailer for syringe kits. For more insights, you might want to read about my experiences in another blog post here.
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