Adopting Lena
I walked through the shadow of the mountain of snow.
Yacinavata. (Bless you)
No, that was’t a sneeze. But still, I’d take all the blessings I could get. We were trapped in this small town in southeastern Ukraine, known only for being a transportation crossroads of sorts…and our only hope to get to Lena.
***
Rewind a few days. After fifteen months of homestudy and paperwork and waiting a lot, we finally left the ground. Our appointment with the Ukrainian State Department of Adoption was a day before Lena’s 14th birthday, and we couldn’t wait to be there to celebrate with her.
We arrived in Kyiv during a time of unusual cold. Record lows combined with pedestrianism…not my favorite. But we pressed on.
A massive snowstorm swept through central and eastern Ukraine with as we were preparing to leave Kyiv. We missed the train that would have delivered us directly to Lena’s city. We missed the next train that would take us to the capital of the oblast (kind of like a state or province).
We caught the midnight train to Yacinavata.
We were instructed not to take photos. Or talk. Or look American. Yacinavata was not a place for tourists. Good thing we weren’t tourists.
Clearly, we made it to Mariupol.
Thanks to a great translator and the kindness of strangers, we raced through all the documentation and meetings and hearings, finishing court with just enough time to grab a couple groceries and begin our own Ukrainian version of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. Including a drive that, but for the grace of God, could have gone like this:
We arrived safely home just in time to snore through Dick Clark on New Year’s Eve.
“First, Dad started snoring. Then your legs started twitching and kicking me. So I had to get out. I climbed over dad and sat on the floor by the bed and watched the ball drop while you slept.”
–Masha
But still, we began 2010 as only a family of three.
And I still had another whirlwind trip to Ukraine to bring Lena home for good…
It took almost a year to be able to write again. A brutally exhausting, six-day trip that left me wiped out at a time when I needed strength the most. A year of transition, adaptation, adjustment for all of us. But we all made it through.
A family of four.
What does family mean to you? Leave a comment….
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About Christine
I am a writer, a project manager, and a corporate refugee with a heart for orphans around the world. My two daughters were adopted from Ukraine at ages 12 and 14. I post about writing, chasing dreams, and making a difference in the world, and sometimes I share fun snippets of fiction in-progress.
Seems like such a distant memory. Its funny how the mind can take what can be a challenging experience and white wash it. Trip to Ukraine in the Dead of winter….oh it wasn’t so bad. Sitting in a train station with no heat for 4 hours….oh it wasn’t so bad….4 hours…nah….I’m sure it wasn’t that long.
Family means a lot of things to me. Laughter, fun, supportive, warm, sometimes frustrating happiness, joy, home, love. Family is one of the most wonderful things in the world. Even though there are times of great frustration, the good wins out.
I am so thankful for not only having a great family growing up, but being blessed to have a great family of my own as an adult.
Oh, I vividly remember how cold it was, and how we had way too much stuff with us!
….and we’re blessed to bless you and be blessed by you. and now I’ll stop before I make everyone else sick with all the sap.