Pampers and Paklava

Leavin’ on a jet plane: How to pack for an international adoption trip

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suitcaseFor those who follow my blog, first let me say that I’m not the one going on a trip…yet. However, enough people have asked me what I plan to bring when the moment arrives, that I decided to do a bit of research and compile a list that might be useful if you are about to embark on the exciting adventure to bring your child home.

I remember when my sister adopted from China eleven years ago. She said she needed an entire suitcase devoted exclusively to medicine and the several thousand dollars in newly minted bills she was told to bring along, and couldn’t decide if she felt more like a bank robber or a traveling doctor. The truth is that what you will need to pack may vary considerably depending on the:

  • Country you are adopting from
  • Age of your adopted child(ren)
  • Season/time of year (both at your destination and at your home location in the U.S.)

Traveling to Russia in the winter, for example, is going to require a lot more warm clothing for both you and your child than, say, traveling to Ethiopia in the summer. Likewise, returning from India to Seattle in the fall might necessitate light baby clothing in-country, but something warmer and more substantial when transferring planes and getting to your home once you arrive back in the U.S. If your child is an infant, bringing instant formula is essential for plane travel whereas you might pack cereal for a toddler. Diapers, a folding umbrella stroller or clothing can be easily purchased in some countries but not in others. Therefore, all the items mentioned in this post are merely suggestions. Every international adoption trip, just like every adoption, has its own customized packing list to match its unique story.

Before I launch into an itemized list (here is one of those times when I am grateful for my list-making abilities), I want to share one of the most important tips I heard regarding plane travel there and back. Make sure that any items that could be considered ‘essential’ are packed as carry on in case your luggage is lost. Murphy’s Law of adoption travel (or any air travel for that matter) stipulates that if you really need it and forget to bring it with you on the plane, your luggage will inevitably arrive late, never, or at another destination altogether.

Also, remember to leave a bit of room in your luggage for mementos you may purchase on your trip. Although you can always donate extra diapers you don’t feel you’ll need or clothes that turn out to be too big or small for your child, having a bit of ‘wiggle room’ is always a good idea.

Speaking of luggage, most international airlines have reduced the weight limit of checked baggage from 70 pounds to 50 pounds or less (for economy class) depending on the airline! Be sure to weigh your bags before you head to the airport (take them to a packing/shipping store or be brave and get on a home scale holding your luggage).

Your adoption agency may also have suggestions for items that people have found useful on previous trips. And, if not, there are a number of articles online that offer country-specific suggestions for international adoption travel.

planeDocuments – Take all documents in your carry-on!

  • Copy of your dossier
  • Passport and visa (if required)
  • Expand-a-file pocket labeled:  Travel, Embassy, Forms, General info, Medical, Baby, Mementos, Language, Thank You Notes, etc.
  • Money: in many countries, it is not possible to cash traveler’s checks and/or ATM machines are not available. Try to find out if there are any fees or expenses you will need cash for and budget accordingly. A money belt for carrying cash is a good idea.  In some countries you will need “crisp new bills” in denominations of $20 and $50. If this is the case, call your bank to request needed cash at least two weeks before you leave. Many banks do not keep much pristine cash on hand and will need to order it for you.
  • Names and phone numbers for essential in-country contacts, U.S. Embassy or Consulate Office
  • Names, phone numbers and email addresses for essential stateside contacts; a neighbor , friend or family member who can access your home or wire you funds, your bank, your U.S. adoption agency, your social worker and/or attorney,  international adoption doctor, insurance company, etc.
  • Photograph of the translator, driver or person meeting you at the airport (though chances are they’ll have your photo from your passport)
  • Electronics – Take all electronics in your carry-on
  • Cell phone with SIM card that works internationally or prepaid international phone
  • Camera, extra batteries, charger, flash drives for back up
  • Laptop
  • International converter (for international outlets and electrical service)
  • Flashlight
  • Video camera (optional)
  • Travel Alarm Clock (everyone says the baby is a sufficient alarm clock!)
  • Batteries: extras for your electronic devices as batteries can be hard to come by in some countries

Medical Supplies and toiletries – take what you can in carry-on (remember that liquids are limited to 3 oz. per item so you may need to find, or create, travel-sized amounts)

Again, note that medical conditions vary from child to child and families adopting from certain countries are more likely to experience some conditions over others.

Baby prescriptions:

  • Antibiotic (in powder form which pharmacist will give you) and pre-measured distilled water to go with it (mix exactly as directed; put distilled water in checked baggage)
  • Prescription cream for scabies, ringworm cream

Baby non-prescription:

  • Baby Tylenol and Motrin (know beforehand under what circumstances you would choose either to use)
  • Lotrimin AF for diaper yeast infection (the tube will say it’s for athlete’s foot, and it is, but it’s a non-prescription antifungal recommended by pediatricians)
  • Hydrocortisone cream (half or one percent) for rashes
  • Pedialyte replacement for diarrhea (there is a powdered brand that you can reconstitute called Kaolectrolyte
  • Lice shampoo and comb (pack in checked baggage)
  • Pediatric cough syrup
  • Thermometer
  • Oragel
  • Glycerin suppositories for constipation in infants
  • Nail clipper
  • Nose syringe
  • Syringe-type dropper or medicine spoon
  • Baby wipes
  • Baby shampoo and lotion (pack in checked baggage)
  • Diaper Rash Cream
  • Playtex bottles with drop-in, disposable BPA-free liners (no need to wash bottles, just nipples), and several nipple of various speeds. Remember the water will likely not be safe to drink so you will be using bottled water to make bottles.
  • Diapers: At least 5-7/day; you might be able to diapers get in-country but it’s still a good idea to carry some as disposable diapers bought in other countries are often not as good quality as in the U.S. Often new babies have diarrhea and go through many diapers per day.
  • Formula: Chances are you will be able to buy baby formula in your child’s country, the type he is accustomed to; but, you may also want to pack a little of your own.
  • Electric hot pot or heating element to boil water (tea for adults or instant soup) or to sterilize nipples for baby bottle
  • Plastic tongs for retrieving baby bottle nipples from boiling water

Adults for carry-on:

  • Regular prescriptions for the adults traveling plus Cipro for each adult
  • Non-prescription for adults: Neosporin, Baindaids, Immodium, Pepto-Bismal, Nyquil/Dayquil, Mylicon, Mucinex D, Eyedrops
  • Pain medication for adults: Tylenol, Excedrin, Aspirin, Ibuprofen (whichever you favor)
  • Benadryl and or Zyrtec for allergies
  • Earplugs and/or eye shade
  • Lotion (small bottle): bring a baby lotion that can be used for both adults and your child
  • Tissues/Kleenex
  • Travel toilet paper
  • Cleansing cloths with soap (Ponds, etc.)
  • Hand Sanitizer
  • Toothbrush/toothpaste
  • Contacts, saline solution (travel size)
  • Glasses (and sunglasses)
  • Lipbalm
  • Plastic bags (Ziploc) in a few different sizes (even a couple grocery bag size): plastic bags are so useful for many things, like the clothes that end up with baby puke on them at 30,000 feet

Toiletries for checked baggage (or preferably travel sizes for carry-on)

  • Travel Shampoo/ Conditioner
  • Brush and/or comb
  • Hair clips/headband/pony tail holders (something to get hair out of face)
  • Make Up
  • Soap/ body wash
  • Sunscreen
  • 1 extra towel (light weight absorbent towel)

Adult clothing

Note: Choose clothing that that is in neutral colors and goes together. Clothes that you can layer and un-layer that are light-weight, non-wrinkling and dry quickly are best. Many countries have laundry service or you can pack a Ziploc baggie with laundry detergent and either roll wet, clean clothes in a towel to dry or bring a short line of twine for a clothing line.

One article I read on packing light for travel, suggested limiting yourself to 25 articles of clothing (including underwear!). Make sure that every item you bring can be worn at least twice and goes with most of the other clothing you bring.

  • 1 pair of closed-toe, comfortable shoes to wear that are good for walking
  • If hot weather, one pair comfortable flip-flop/sandals
  • 3 shirts (sleeve length and material depending on weather): of course if you sweat more, you might take more shirts and less pants/skirts
  • 3 pants and/or skirts (depending on your gender and your style preference)
  • Sweater or light jacket (or sweater plus heavier jacket if cold climate/winter season – many countries do not have central air or heat)
  • Hat (to block sun etc.)
  • 1 hanging around the room outfit (e.g.  sweats or lightweight pants, t-shirt, hoodie)
  • Socks
  • Something to sleep in
  • Underwear for one week
  • Raincoat
  • One “nice” outfit for court dates

For women: a colorful pashmina or other large scarf can dress up an outfit and be used as a wrap, or shawl and even double as a pillow. Bring only inexpensive, low maintenance jewelry (e.g. earrings that cannot be pulled out of your ears by a curious baby). Check out this Wanderlust and Lipstick article on ‘Packing tips for women travelers.‘

Important! Take one change of clothes in your carry-on. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard parents tell of bringing a change of clothing onto the plane for the baby if she poops/pukes, but not for themselves if said baby poops/pukes on mama…or if luggage is lost.

rain on plane windowBaby clothing and accessories

NOTE: Clothing numbers are based on five to seven day in-country stay. Consider carrying a few different sizes if you don’t know accurate size/weight of your child…you can always donate what you don’t need to the orphanage. Knits and elastic waist items that will wash and dry easily, if needed.

It’s also nice to bring a few gifts for in-country staff (pack in checked baggage): orphanage staff, translator, host, attorney and driver. We like the idea of gifts with “local flavor” – as Seattleites we might bring chocolate bars from Seattle’s ‘Theo Chocolate,’ ferry boat ornaments, smoked salmon and postcards with pictures of the Pacific Northwest.

**Take approximately half the clothing listed below in your carry-on**

  • 8 outfits
  • 8 pjs
  • Socks –several pairs
  • 1 pair of shoes
  • 5 Bibs
  • 3 knitted caps
  • 5 burp cloths
  • 2 blankets
  • 1 crib sheet
  • Age appropriate toys (2 rattles, soft book, 2 teething toys): take one each in carry-on
  • Baby Bjorn, sling (if small infant) or baby carrier of your choice
  • Head to Toe Fleece Outfit (might only be necessary when landing landed back in the US and needing to switch terminals at then get to our car when home; and, weather depending)
  • 2 Sleep sacks  (take just one in carry-on)
  • Pacifiers (2 different types)
  • Baby towel
  • Umbrella stroller (depending on country, can be purchased in country)
  • Pac ‘n Play (one more thing to carry on, but I have heard several adoptive families say that it was valuable when they traveled…again, depending on distance and time to travel home).

For older child

  • Age-appropriate toys (maybe something soft and cushy for carry on that would double as a pillow)
  • Clothes – several changes
  • Pull-up training underpants…just in case
  • Picture book with photos of “new home”
  • Picture ‘Point Book’ (travel book with photos of just about everything – we have one called “Point It: Traveler’s language Kit”) – great to point at what you’re trying to talk about if you don’t know the language (works with adults too!)
  • Arrange for someone to explain – pre-flight – what they can expect/what is going to happen

Additional Carry-on Items

  • A few protein or oatmeal bars or other airline-friendly snacks. Bring a few meals worth of comfort food for times you may not feel like leaving your room with your new child. Cup a soup, instant oatmeal, chocolate, granola bars, cheese crackers, beef jerky, and dried fruit are all good choices. Don’t forget a bowl and spoon for your in-room meal!
  • Water (purchased after security check)
  • Deck of Cards or travel game (for adults)
  • Books and/or magazines: Everyone says they tend to bring more than they need (e.g. one)
  • One in-country guide/travel book (or relevant pages torn out/printed)
  • Notebook/Journal and pen

Whew! Well, I’m sure this list – while exhausting – is not exhaustive. Adapt, as needed, and if you’re about to jet off and pick up your kiddo:

BON VOYAGE…and Congratulations!!

Eeny meeny miney moe

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A couple weeks ago, I was telling an acquaintance about the infant boy with cleft lip who Big Papa and I visited last fall and talking about our decision not to pursue adopting him when we discovered that he also had significant cognitive challenges.  After I finished my story she said to me “Well, at least you had a choice.”

Eeny meenyI didn’t sleep well that night. The whole “you had a choice” thing really stuck in my craw and I’ve been wrestling with it ever since. Yes, Big Papa and I had the luxury, if you will, to say “yay” or “nay” about whether or not we would parent this kid. Not that it was an easy decision; it was heart wrenching and I still grieve about it.

As an “older” (45+ in both our cases) recently married couple, our choices had their limits. Since we are adopting internationally we are able to specify whether we want a boy or girl and an age range for the child we would adopt (obviously with a domestic infant adoption, you get what you get). We are also able to check off a list of medical conditions that we are “ok” with: cleft, clubfoot, rickets, and so on.

Here’s where we do not have a choice:

Country: Most countries set upper age limits and marriage requirements. China was out because you couldn’t apply until you’d been married two years, but you couldn’t be over fifty. By the time we’d have been married two years, I’d be fifty. India stipulates that the age of the husband and wife, combined, cannot be greater than 90. Haiti requires ten years of marriage. On and on it goes. Our “short list” of countries was very short.

Birth mother’s health: Big Papa and I cannot influence whether the birthmother drinks, smokes or eats well during her pregnancy.

Kid’s genetics and family background:  We can’t choose our kid’s biological parents…how smart they are, what their unique abilities are or their propensity for chronic disease.

Orphanage care: While the orphanages in Armenia are good in comparison to most and the care excellent, it is still an orphanage. Most children in orphanage care are delayed in development one month for every three months spent there. We have no control over how the child we’ll adopt is cared for from the time of his birth until we bring him home.

Picking our kid:  Adoption is not like shopping at the supermarket.  We are not able to weigh the merits of ‘Kid A’ against ‘Kid B.’ We are allowed one referral at a time. Of course, in some countries, prospective adoptive parents aren’t even allowed to say no to a referral, at least not if they want to bring home a kid at all.  Someone else half the world away (in some cases whom you’ve never met) will choose our child for us and send us his information.

When we become parents: I will not have the nine-months-and-we’re-parents window. I am not able to say to my husband, “Hey, wanna make a baby-NOW.” We started this process three years ago (with our home study). That’s one loooong pregnancy!

Miney moeIt’s true that folks who birth their kids experience a whole truckload of unpredictable outcomes too. Down Syndrome, Autism, birth defects, difficult pregnancies, challenging births, miscarriage, stillbirths and–just like adoptive parents–infertility. The road from coupledom to parenthood isn’t always smooth.

That said most adoptive parents come to the table with limited options, having experienced infertility or another significant reason which made biological pregnancy impossible. Choice in adoption is something of an oxymoron because many decisions are made for you. And sometimes, much of the time, control is completely out of your hands.

Marshmallow moments

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Big Papa and I climb to the top of the observation tower at Riefel Bird Sanctuary in Ladner, British Columbia to see what we can see.  From every direction marsh and mountain reach out to greet us. Ducks escort their brood through tiny estuaries that wind their way through miles upon miles of Canadian marshland. Yellow-leg Sandpipers skirt along the surface and appear be walking on water. Great Blue Herons drop their landing gear on the aqua blue runway.

Fraser River and mountainsWe hike up three flights of metal stairs to reach the viewing platform. When we are a couple steps away, a little voice calls down to us: “Can you see it?” “See what?” I reply to the pint-sized tow-headed boy who appears just a few feet above me. “The island.”

He might have been four or five years old and has his dad tow. Dad points off in the distance toward a speck of a hump, Bowen Island, and tells they’d visited this island some time ago.

And then, in an instant the little guy moves on to his next observation: “Can you see the cracks in the dirt down there? “ he asks us as he points downward to the bottom of the observation tower. “Yeah” Big Papa and I answer in tandem. “Do you know what those are?” his dad asks him. “No.” “It’s because the ground is dry” Dad informs all of us.

I continue on about the mud, “Hey, look at the thousands of bird tracks” I say as I wave my hand toward the mud flats with bird hieroglyphics crisscrossing every which way. Flat-footed ducks and three-toed Sandpipers leave weaving trails of prints. The kid doesn’t seem all that interested. He’s got a truckload of questions on his mind that he rattles off one by one.

After a few minutes I say to him, “Hey, you know that guy you’re talking to (motioning in Big Papa’s direction), well it’s his birthday today. “Oh” he whispers with a bit of awe and turns toward Big Papa: “Do you want a marshmallow? “Dad, can we give him a marshmallow?” Dad tells the kid there are four marshmallows left and that if he gives Big Papa and me two of those, there will be two left. “Ok.”

Dad reaches into his pocket and pulls out a visibly worn Kraft marshmallow bag and Big Papa and I are each handed a Marshmallow. We accept gratefully as the towheaded kid and his dad disappear down the stairway. Three Sandhill Cranes

The marshmallow softens and sugar fills my mouth. My heart melts just a little bit and lets sweet emotions seep in.

There are days when I wonder if we will ever become parents. Waiting feels like forever, we bump up against unexpected walls and there have been a number of significant challenges…some that I am not able to write about just now. Sometimes I feel dejected, beaten even. Then, when I least expect it, out of the blue comes an instant like this one that touches my very core and reminds me why we’ve traveled this far and why we endure all that we have endured.

Heron taking flightThis journey we’re on is both wondrous and heartbreaking. Simple moments like this get me through, a gesture that starts as something so small and then unfolds its wings to soar as the dream of something so much bigger.

Mom-in-waiting

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“Happy Mother’s Day” the friendly attendant says as we roll down our car window to enter the gates at Bloedel Reserve, a lovely public garden on Bainbridge Island. “Happy Mother’s Day to you too,” our friend K. replies cheerily from the front seat. “Oh, I’m not a mom yet,” offers up Ms. Attendant.

We drive off and K. muses, “How did she know that we are mothers?” “We?” I thought to myself. How indeed?

Baby duck

My friend is mom to two. Maybe she gives off that I’m-a-mom vibe or possibly Ms. Attendant simply assumed that two women of a “certain age” had to be mothers. Or her greeting might have been the salutation du jour.

For me, Mother’s Day is a mixed bag of emotions. I imagine my feelings are shared by many adoptive-moms-to-be. Truthfully the past few years I’ve wanted the day to pass by as quickly as possible. This is exactly how I used to feel on Valentine’s Day during my single years. Please just get it over with.

Meandering through Bloedel we saw rhododendrons awash with blooms and families celebrating motherhood. Sons escorted elderly moms across fields of green. Toddlers ran up the trails giggling under the watchful gaze of their mothers. Even the ducks in the pond showed off their little broods as they paddled and skittered at the water’s edge.

Mama and baby duckThe sun was shining and we were in a beautiful place amongst friends. Being surrounded by plants, camera in hand and Big Papa at my side is generally a recipe for complete happiness. So why did I feel that something was amiss? I think it was my expectation that I would be amongst the revelers, because this year, I’d be in the mommy club, kid in tow.

Later, back at the Urban Cabin, I took another look at the thoughtful card Big Papa gave me earlier in the day. In it he reminded me that even though I might be celebrating the day as a mother-in-waiting, it’s still something to celebrate.  That in adopting we are taking a stand and doing the right thing for a child…we just haven’t met him yet.

It is true that on the day that I do become a mom, I won’t suddenly become more caretaking, creative thinking, or adventure loving. I exhibit those qualities in the relationships I nurture right now. Once we adopt, I’ll just have one more person in my life to shower those traits on.

I decided to take what Big Papa wrote to heart. Do you only become a “real” cyclist after you compete in a race? Are you truly a writer only if your words achieve publication? Is it the public recognition that makes it so? Or instead, is it the mile after mile you log every day you climb on the bike and the thousands of words written in your journal that may never see the light of day?

So before I lay my head on the pillow last night, I closed my eyes and took a moment to honor all that I am that is already a testament to my abilities to “mother,” whether it’s the delicious meals I prepare for us each weekend, to the trips to the vet to attend to our sick cat, to the moments when I sit down and listen to Big Papa talk about his day and the hours I spend orchestrating our trips and adventures. Mothering is in all those little details and I do it every day.

Food to make my heart SOAR

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“She likes the top of matzoun and the bottom of pilaf,” is an Armenian expression which means ‘she loves everything good.’ I was lucky enough to enjoy a lot of ‘everything good,’ this past Sunday in a hands-on Armenian cooking class fundraiser for SOAR (Society for Orphaned Armenian Relief). All the money will go directly to purchase greatly needed supplies for orphans living in orphanages in Armenia. Busy hands-Sarma Hearing the ‘yums’ and ‘ahhs’ echoing during the 2.5 hour class, I know that everyone attending had a delicious time.

The cooking class was held at Metropolitan Market.  Lesa Sullivan, who taught the Armenian cooking class I attended at PCC Natural Markets, was the chef. She also generously donated her services at a pittance. This cause is near and dear to her heart as well since Lesa’s husband is of Armenian descent. Lesa was also very close to an Armenian family during her younger years growing up in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Lesa CooksThe fabulous menu included:

  • S’rj: spiced Armenian coffee
  • Sarma: rolled and stuffed grape leaves
  • Lentil soup
  • Matzoun: Armenian yogurt
  • Armenian Pilaf: pasta, rice, and chopped apricots
  • Bourma: sweetly spiced rolled phyllo dough dessert

Nineteen participants rolled up their sleeves and then got down to business rolling Sarma and Bourma, and stirring lentils while sipping S’rj and munching on snacks of lavash, Armenian flatbread, and Soujuk, Armenian sausage. I saw a room full of smiles, heard a constant stream of laughter and smelled the intoxicating fragrances of Armenian cuisine.

When the class ended, and after we cleaned up, Lesa gave me a special treat: two pint-jars of Matzoun.  Matzoun, Armenian yogurt, is sour firm and thick. I am a yogurt aficionado and Armenian yogurt, in my somewhat biased opinion, is the crème de la creme. When I was visiting Yerevan, Armenia this past September, I got to eat some of the best darn yogurt I’ve ever had. Yogurt for breakfast with sliced fruit. Yogurt served as a ‘side’ to drizzle on top of dolma and sarma rolls. A refreshing minted yogurt, called Tahn, was chilled with ice and water and offered as a drink to pair cool down the heat of spicy Lamajoun (Armenian pizza).

One interesting thing about yogurt is that it takes yogurt to make yogurt. That’s not so much of a problem today, when plain yogurt purchased from the supermarket provides the necessary bacterial starter. But that wasn’t always the case.

Making MatzounBeing an organic substance, getting the first yogurt starters into the United States in the 19th century was no easy task. There was absolutely no way for the immigrants to simply bring their needed starter through American customs. But American customs agents greatly underestimated Armenian ingenuity.

The essential ingredient for turning milk into yogurt is a complex set of bacteria that basically takes over the medium (milk) and transforms it. The bacteria can live for a period of time under less than ideal circumstances. Knowing this bit of information is essential. Savvy Armenian émigrés would dip some fresh white handkerchiefs into a mixture of water and yogurt before they sailed for America. The handkerchiefs were then line dried and neatly folded into their luggage. Once they were safely through customs and settled into their new homes, they would simply soak the linen in some warm milk, reactivating the culture, and make their yogurt!

Two yogurtsI could hardly contain my excitement as Lesa nestled the pint jars of yogurt into a small carry-out container, wrapping a dish towel tightly around the twin treasures to prevent my precious cargo from too much jostling. They sat and “cured” on my counter at home for twelve hours and are now chillin’ for a few days in the fridge. I can’t wait to dive in and enjoy my homemade Matzoun.

All in all, it was a wonderful way to while away the afternoon. The class, the cuisine, the companionship, and the cause: it all made my heart soar.

Matzoun (Yield 3-1/2 cups yogurt)

  • 3 cups organic heavy cream or half and half
  • 1 package yogurt starter or 3 tablespoons cultured yogurt

Prepare your yogurt maker according to manufacturer’s instructions or have ready a small insulated cooler, warm, damp towels and glass jars. Wrap the jar in the warm towels while preparing the yogurt. Heat cream in a saucepan until a thermometer reaches 180 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove from heat and whisk in the starter or yogurt. Fill your yogurt making container according to the manufacturer’s instructions or fill the glass jar with the cream (or half and half). Wrap the warm towels around the glass jar and tuck them into the insulated cooler (if the towels have cooled, you can toss them in the microwave or your dryer to gently rewarm them). Close the cooler and gently place it in an out of the way place that’s a tad warm (like the top of the fridge) for 8-12 hours. Test for desired thickness; if it’s not to your liking you can let it go another 8-12 hours. Cover and refrigerate. Yogurt will stay good for up to a month and will continue to sour as it ages. When you are ready to make your next batch of Matzoun, simply take 3 tablespoons of your remaining Matzoun for a ‘starter’ and begin again.

Want to read about more tantalizing treats? Check out Wanderfood Wednesday. And, keep an eye out for upcoming weeks in Pampers and Pakhlava, where I’ll share more divinely delicious Armenian recipes.

Adoption is green

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Since today is Earth Day, I’m thought I’d write about how adoption is ‘green.’ Yes, it’s true that green is the “new black.” These days it seems like everybody’s going green.

Big Papa and I try to tread lightly on the earth. We have one car and it’s not an SUV by a long shot. Big Papa walks to and from work. I buy most of my clothes second-hand from consignment shops. Our house, the Urban Cabin, has a small footprint. With our recent remodel, we now have planter beds for raising veggies.

Still, when it comes to raising children, the drive to leave one’s DNA behind is fierce. So while I couldn’t be prouder that our adoption is one small contribution to population control, I can’t say the path to this point was a straight line.

Mama and baby bird

Let me be clear that we’re not adopting just so we can be hip and trendy. What I will tell you is that being respectful of our increasingly fragile environment and overpopulated planet, is one of the many reasons Big Papa and I decided that adoption was the way we wanted to create our family.

It’s true that getting pregnant the old-fashioned way was not in the cards for us. My egg making days were long since over and, even if they weren’t, Big Papa had his own fertility challenges. But in these modern times, adoption was one of several ways we could become parents.

We seriously considered pregnancy using a donor egg. We’d finding a nice 20-something gal to be a donor; she might even look like me with brown curly hair and a penchant for creative arts. Then we’d inject Big Papa’s sperm into her egg, implant it in me and voila. If we got lucky, nine months later we’d be changing diapers.

I went through all the tests (one, in particular, that was insanely painful), got myself all hopped up on hormones for a trial run to see if my uterus could get “fluffy” enough to host a fertilized egg and, for a few months, even thought we had the support of our insurance company for infertility expenses.

If I didn’t get knocked up, we were told that another option available to us was “egg adoption,” where folks purchase eggs that were IVF “rejects” (e.g. never got used). What this would mean is that we’d get someone’s egg, already fertilized with someone else’s sperm, implant it in me and I’d grow the baby. I’d get to experience being pregnant and giving birth and then we’d have….well, frankly we’d have the equivalent of an adopted kid because there would be no genetic link to either of us.

Egg adoption is fairly cost effective, but it just didn’t feel right to us. There are so many kids in the world already who need homes. How could we put ourselves in a position where we’d be creating yet one more?

Of course, while we were weighing the pros and cons of fertility treatments, we also investigated adoption. My niece is adopted and both of Big Papa’s siblings are adopted. Big Papa was an “only” biological child and Big Papa’s papa was an only child, so as an extended family we’re pretty darn green, in terms of doing our bit not to overpopulate the earth.

We weren’t in a financial position to try in vitro and then, if it didn’t “take” or if I had a miscarriage move forward with adoption. It was one or the other. That’s a pretty heavy decision.  But even if we had been in the position to bet the farm, I’m not sure we would have.

To some degree the decision was made for us. In the eleventh hour, our insurance company bailed out on financial support and the fertility clinic reassigned the donor we’d selected. We’d already drawn the line at egg adoption. Going that route was out of the question.

We chose adoption. Or maybe adoption chose us.

Some days I worry. Will our kid be able to love us and us him? Is it fair to raise an Armenian kid on American soil? Did we make the right decision?

But then there are just as many days when I feel tremendous pride in our choice. We have created a nest right here in the Urban Cabin for our adopted child. We can’t solve all the world’s problems with environmental shortages or find a home for the hundreds of thousands of orphaned kids around the world, but we can exert a bit of greenness right here on our own soil by making a place at our table and in our hearts for one little kiddo who needs a home. It’s one way we can offer up some lovin’ for the big home we call planet earth and the folks who share it with us. Maybe that’s what adoption and Earth Day is all about. Starting right here, at home, with us.

Return to sender

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Newspapers, radio chat shows and the blogosphere have been abuzz for the past week or so with heated discussions of the recent “disrupted” adoption of a 7-year-old Russian boy, who was sent back to Moscow by his adopted mother. I confess I’ve been “glued to the screen” reading about what happened and the outpouring of commentary that has followed. It’s like a car wreck; you don’t want to see it but you can’t look away.

return to sender-adjustedCandidly, stories like this make me uncomfortable because they draw attention to the dark underbelly of adoption whether it’s abuse or abandonment, trafficking or travesties of justice. These are not the “and they lived happily ever after” stories that people (particularly prospective adoptive moms, like me) want to hear.

I debated whether or not to blog about this, partially because there’s plenty of press, both fact-based and personal opinion already out there, and also because I feel hesitant to cast my vote on whether I think the Torry Hansen, the adoptive mother in this case, made the “right” or “wrong” decision.

I don’t believe it’s my place to judge Torry. I don’t know what resources were available to her and whether or not she took advantage of those that were. I don’t know the complete reality of her circumstances. I wasn’t in her shoes.

But ultimately what spurred me on to write is that the story I find most compelling isn’t solely Torry’s story at all. It’s a complex intermingling of stories: Artem (aka Justin), her adopted son and other adopted children; Russian orphanages along with foster care institutions the world over; governments – ours and theirs and the agreements arranged and regulations required; the birth moms we rarely hear about; and, adoptive parents – some faced with enormous challenges, like Torry, and many others who are not.

As an adoptive-mom-wanna-be myself, I know what Torry went through in the first place to adopt her child. I know there were many classes she needed to take. I know there were stacks of forms to be completed. I know there was a home study by a licensed social worker. I know that she was required to provide several references. I know that all her forms were notarized and then apostilled; every little piece of paper was verified at least twice. I know there were criminal clearances, child abuse checks and federal fingerprints. I know there was great financial burden. I know she planned and waited and then waited some more for the day when she became a mom. Adopting internationally, particularly from Russia, is not a fly by night process. So, no matter how I feel about what ultimately happened, I can’t imagine that the decision to undo all of this was undertaken lightly.

What truly breaks my heart is the fallout from her actions and the subsequent reaction of the Russian government which resulted in a temporary suspension of U.S. adoptions from Russia. I feel for adoptive parents-to-be who, like Big Papa and me, have poured their hearts, souls, time and money towards creating a family and yet could now find themselves in limbo indefinitely.

I feel, too, for the 740,000 orphans in Russia alone who, like Artem, remain without families. In the end, that’s who this really hurts. Suspending adoptions isn’t a solution. It’s not even an effective Band-Aid. There are countless international adoptions from Russia and elsewhere around the world that have been a resounding success, for the adoptee and their adoptive family. Stories like this sadden me, because it leaves a picture in the public mind that is so far from the truth. It taints and distorts the image of forming a family through adoption.

According to the Department of Social and Human Services, disruptions (both domestic and international) represent 10%-25% of completed adoptions, with the higher rates rising with the age of the child at adoption.  Adoption dissolutions (legal rights between adoptive parent and child terminated) are between 1%-10%, with the higher percentages being related to adoptions that have involved special needs children and children from a foster care system. Torry Hansen isn’t the first, and certainly won’t be the last, to have her adoption dissolved even if, admittedly, her story was staggeringly dramatic.

Foster care, both in the U.S. and around the world, is in a woeful state. In Russia, there have been many reports of children being abused in orphanages. Once kids leave their system, they end up on the streets leading a life of crime or prostitution. Russia is hardly alone in claims of abuse. Many countries have been cited for a range of physical, sexual and emotional abuses of children under government care. And the U.S. certainly can’t be the one pointing a finger, with our own foster care system dreadfully broken.

But what is the alternative? People have babies they aren’t equipped to care for. Women drink alcohol or take drugs during their pregnancies resulting in permanently damaged children. Disease, economic failure, wars, natural disasters and genocides plague our planet leaving countless children without parents or a home.

When all is said and done, adoption is anything but smooth and straight-forward. It is an unpredictable journey from day one and, continuing on, for the lifetimes of all those involved. Adopting is not a goal that, once “achieved,” fades into a haze of rainbow colored flowers and ‘forever families.’ Just like families formed any other way, adoptive families are a crazy-quilt mix of wildly successful happy endings, abysmal failures and every permutation in between that you can possibly imagine.

We can vilify Torry Hansen all we want. We can rail against the injustices of Russian orphanages until the cows come home. We can bury prospective adoptive parents under mountains of paperwork and regulations. We can suspend adoptions when abuses (in the country or with adoptive parents) are suspect. In the end, what have we accomplished?

I want to be clear that I’m not trying to make excuses for a woman who put her adopted son on a plane and sent him packing. I’m not looking the other way at the systemic abuses in orphanages and foster care both domestically and globally. I’m not pretending that there aren’t horrific stories of adoptions that go south. I’m not writing any of this off.

But as an adoptive mom-to-be and a writer, what I do want to draw attention to is the fact that no matter how thorough the background checks, no matter how strict the guidelines, there will be always be instances of abuse on all sides – by adoptive parents, by governments and by orphanages. There will always be “matches” of children to parents that seem ‘meant to be’ and others that are, at best, oil and water.

What this story, and stories like it that periodically circulate in the media, should be is a call to action. We need to commit to offering more comprehensive and holistic support to kids who are struggling, whether in birth, foster or adoptive homes. We need to find ways to help birth moms make choices that are in the best interests of their children, whether they find it within themselves to parent this child or place this child in the arms of someone who can. And even knowing sometimes things will go terribly wrong, we’ve got to find our way through the maze and keep moving forward to create ways to sustain those who have room in their hearts and space under their roof for children not born to them. Because no matter what, there will always be children who need someone to love them and a place to call home.

Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.
~Voltaire

Crime and punishment

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“Now serving ticket number H1 at counter 11.” “Now serving ticket number H2 at counter 11.”

Office of ImmigrationBig Papa and I were tickets number H21 and H22 respectively as we sat in the waiting room at the Tukwila, Washington office of U.S. Office of Immigration. We’d received our appointments (Big Papa at 8:00 and me at 9:00) a couple weeks ago in response to our application to update our approval to adopt internationally. Approval expires in fifteen months time, so any family whose international adoption takes longer than that must reapply.

Because of this, and because regulations have changed recently for adoptions in Armenia, Big Papa and I have to update/redo the following, all of which will also need to be both notarized and then apostilled down in Olympia, Washington, our state’s capitol:

  • Home study (which also involved a home visit) and home study agency license
  • FBI clearance for each of us (including ink fingerprints at our local police station)
  • Local/state police clearance for each of us
  • State child abuse clearance for each of us
  • Immigration fingerprints for each of us
  • Physical by each of our doctors
  • Letter from employer verifying employment
  • Three (most recent) years of tax returns

We drove to Tukwila and parked at the (cash only) lot. Our appointment form and signs at immigration say “no cameras or cell phones,” so we left ours in the car. After putting our belongings on the conveyor belt and passing through security inspection we sat in the large waiting room with about thirty other folks. The sign at the front desk says, “Please turn all cell phones off.” I noticed that several people are either making or taking calls and the gal sitting next to us is busily texting away. Is there something about “off” that is not clear?

It occured to me that all the people here with cell phones also likely have cell phone cameras. Part of me wanted to simply get through this process though the other part of me was tempted to prove a point and go get my SLR from the car.

As each person’s number is called he or she stands up and goes to the line at the check in counter. Soon, most of the room is standing in line. After we’re each checked in, we are ushered into a second waiting room. This room does not have enough chairs for everyone to sit.

While we waited I noticed that the couple sitting next to us also had ‘I-797C’ forms in hand (the form from U.S. Immigration which is adoption-specific). I asked them if they are adopting, “Yes.” From where? “Ethiopia,” they told us. As it turns out they have a referral and plan to go pick up their daughter this coming June. Like us, they are redoing paperwork for the U.S. government that is soon to expire.

Print emFinally we are called, individually, to have our fingerprints taken. Fingerprints for immigration are “inkless” which is pretty cool (and less messy). FBI still does ink prints, a process we completed a couple months ago down at our local police station.

Prints are taken of your thumb and each finger separately by rolling it over a screen. The information is captured via computer. Then all four fingers, sans thumb are printed and you’re ‘scot-free.’

As we’re leaving Big Papa says that the fingerprint gal asked him where we were adopting from and when he told her ‘Armenia,’ she questioned “Why?” When Big Papa filled in a few of the details around our choice, she asked if he knew about what was going o right now with Russia (suspension of all adoptions from the U.S. as a result of one woman “returning” her adopted son). “Yes, we know.” Big Papa replies. “Armenia is not Russia.”

Next stop is the police station in downtown Seattle where we request criminal background checks. They also only accept cash. What is up with that? So we hoof it over to the nearby bank to get some bills while the (very nice) gal behind the counter at the police station is processing our forms.

This year, criminal clearances alone set us back $133 including parking for immigration. We will also pay the cost for apostilling at $15 per document, the fee to have our home study updated and then the (rather large) chunk of change to have all of our documents translated once again into Armenian.

How is that two honest, law-abiding, conviction-free citizens spend so much time (and money) proving they are two honest, law abiding, conviction-free citizens?

Pampers turns one!

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Happy Birthday Pampers and Pakhlava! Today my blog turns one.

Pampers turns oneIt seems like just yesterday I was sitting in front of my computer screen, forefinger shaking as it hovered over the ‘publish’ button. I’d never written about something so personal in such a public venue. This was a big leap. I was full of nervous excitement, like a kindergartener on her first day of school.

What a difference a year makes. I’ve hit ‘publish’ countless times now (89 posts for Pampers and Pakhlava blog and 56 posts for the Urban Cabin). I still get a little nervous before I send my missives into the ether, but blogging has been a wonderfully rewarding experience.

I’ve met (both in-person and online) awesome people I might not have otherwise known and rekindled friendships from years gone by. My soul has been warmed by the heartfelt comments I’ve received from readers. Having a ‘community’ online and behind the scenes has made the difficult moments in our journey easier to bear.

And “what a long strange trip it’s been!” I’ve felt guilty at times that I blog on a women’s travel website, but all too rarely find myself outside the city limits. Yet my journey to become a mom has been, without question, the mother of all trips. It has taken me literally, figuratively, physically and emotionally to places I’d never imagined.

Last April when I published my first post, I wondered if I would find enough to write about, whether people would read my blog and, if so, what they would think about my musings. As it turns out, I never find myself short on words, it’s cathartic to give my thoughts solid ground, and hearing that some of my posts strike a chord with others is immensely satisfying.

Blogging about our adoption has helped me keep my sanity, through I-800 applications and updates, lost referrals, failed trips, and the sweet highs of hopeful expectations. For Big Papa and I our journey to adopt from Armenia has been the road less traveled. What lies around the next bend? I can hardly wait to find out and share it with all of you.

So thank you friends and family who faithfully read what I write. Thank you Beth W.: Wanderlust and Lipstick is a warm nest for my words. My heart swells with pride as I hit ‘publish’ today. ONE YEAR, Pampers and Pakhalva! Here’s to looking at you, kiddo.

Can’t see the forest for the trees

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Our adoption agency sent an email letting families know that the new laws regarding Armenian adoption have been published and there are several changes to update families on.  They will be sending each family a personalized letter with their current status, place in ‘wait’ and details about how the new laws will impact them. All we’ve been told at this point is that the new laws and time frames should significantly reduce the waiting for families once officially matched to a referral. The letter describing all of this is slated to be sent out next week.

One treeWe wait with bated breath. Can I just say for the umpteenth time how much I struggle with waiting? Whether it’s waiting to get our U.S. Immigration approval for the required annual update to our home study, waiting for a referral or waiting to become parents, it just seems like adoptive parents-to-be do a heckuva lot of waiting.

I’m not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth. Reduced time frames would be absolutely fantastic. I can only imagine how tough it will be to wait once we have a solid referral. At this juncture, time from referral to court dates and then homecoming has been taking anywhere from four to eight months.

Sitting here, know our child is sitting there will be excruciating. Missing months of developmental milestones makes me sad, so if changes to the laws translate to less time waiting, more power to ‘em.

Even though our trip to Armenia this past September was painful, I am thankful Big Papa and I had the opportunity to visit one of the orphanages and see the excellent care the kids receive. I can now picture what it looks like in my head: the rooms, the caregivers, and where the kids sleep. Knowing they are in competent, caring hands eases my anxiety to a degree.

Still, waiting to adopt can feel endless. I guess a lot of things in life that. Whether it’s waiting to find out your mammogram results, waiting to find out if you got into your number one choice for college, or waiting to meet the person you want to share your life with, waiting is a big part of the program. Minutes feel like hours. Hours feel like days. Months feel like eternity.

treesYou’d think because of all this practice, I’d learn some patience. I try so hard to cultivate my ability to stay present. I don’t want to miss joyful moments that are in my life each day because I’m so focused on this one thing that I can’t see the forest for the trees.

There are days when I find patience easily and other days, not so much. Something shifts my focus enough and I become hyper-aware that we’re not there yet. It could be news that a good friend just had a baby or I might see an adoptive mom at the market. Finding ourselves faced with yet another task to complete for the adoption (such as the recent update to our home study) or news (like this week) that changes are afoot with regulations in the country we’re adopting from, sets me off too. Or it could be a casual conversation with a caring friend who asks: “What’s happening on the adoption front?”

It’s a funny thing, this adoption journey. We wake up and our day looks just so…until one day it doesn’t.

Nothing happens, and nothing happens, and then everything happens.
~Fay Weldon