Six...and Counting...?

After three plane rides and many hours of flying, we arrived in Moscow, Russia on October 2, 1999. My husband Steve and I had waited six months for this day to arrive. There we were on a mission of love with our two older biological children back home in West Virginia. Upon our arrival, it was a little dismal with all the hustle and bustle in an airport that looked like something out of a 1940's movie. As we walked down long, dark corridors we managed to get to customs where they checked our suitcases and then we were on to the final checkpoint where our papers and passports were examined. The reality of what we were doing really hit me as we waited in separate lines.

Upon passing through, we began looking for our local adoption coordinator/translator Tatiana. We found her and were very relieved. After taking care of some other details one of which included exchanging American dollars for Russian rubles, we were off again on a flight to Izshevsk, Russia-500 miles away.

When we arrived very late in Izshevsk, our translator and eventually dear friend, Elena, explained all of the details of what the weeks ahead would entail. Steve and I felt we were in a whirlwind! Not only had we endured months of meetings, home visits, and loads and loads of paperwork, but also here we were jumping through hoops in order to get closer and closer to seeing our dear 11-month-old son whom we had only at that point viewed on a videotape.

That night, after arriving at our host family's apartment, we fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, after a very hearty Russian breakfast, we were picked up by our translator and driver, Sasha, and drove an hour away to Votinsk, where the orphanage was located. It was an interesting journey! The roads in Russia are much different, as is the driving! Cars, motorcycles, and large trucks are scattered all over the roads. There are no distinct dividing lines on the roads! I uttered many prayers as the car rolled along at quite a speed. As we relaxed, we noticed how beautiful the countryside really was and wanted to record it in our memories for our new son forever.

Finally, we pulled up to the orphanage, and after cleaning our shoes on several mats, went into the director's office. There was our tiny son, Dima, in the arms of a caretaker, Dreama. Although he was eleven months old, his little body was more like a 6-8 month old. Months of emotion spilled over upon seeing his dear face. At that moment, I thought what an awesome God we have to put two ordinary people in a far away land only to embrace a beautiful gift from God.

I immediately went over and picked him from Dreama's arms. He stared very intently at me and began to cry a little. What beautiful brown eyes! Steve and I were taken to the music room for privacy and time alone with Dima. This is where we were to spend many hours over the next three weeks with our new son. Watching Dima adjust to his new daddy was heart-warming. In the orphanage, we were told, the children rarely see any men.

Every other day, we continued to make that same trip to the orphanage to see our child. As each day passed, he became more comfortable with us. We also began to develop an understanding of his behaviors and habits. It is amazing that what birth parents develop over many months, God enabled us to conquer in several weeks. Finally, on October 6, we appeared before the Russian judge. It was quite a nerve-wracking experience, but God gave us such peace and the ability to adequately answer the many questions proposed to us about our finances, family, child-rearing views, religious faith etc. After deliberating only a few minutes, we returned to the courtroom to be told the judge was granting our adoption. Many tears flowed upon this news. Dima was truly our little boy! The judge also stated she would not waive the ten day waiting period and that we would need to stay in Russia for that period of time. We were disappointed since we missed our other two children dearly. We did understand the ruling and spent that time getting to know our son more and visiting places of interest.

That afternoon, we celebrated by going to a Russian Orthodox Church with Elena. She explained that it is a tradition in Russia to go to church, light a candle, and say a prayer for specific blessings. We agreed that that was a very important thing to do. Entering that church was like entering God's presence. It comforted us to finally be in a place of worship after so many weeks away from home. The walls were covered with beautiful portraits of Jesus, his mother Mary and many other spiritual saints. We placed our candles and quietly prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for the miracle God had performed in our lives and in Dima's little life that very day. Steve and I walked over to a portrait of Christ and stood in awe as we silently prayed.

As the days rolled on, we eventually made our way back to Moscow with our son to finalize paperwork, get his medical checkup and visa. Finally, on Oct. 19, 1999, we boarded our international flight, which would begin our journey home. In getting to know our son, we decided to keep his full Russian name, Dmitry and to call him by this name. It seemed to fit him so much better. He was quite a trouper as we traveled home to the USA.

I will never forget our arrival on the evening of October 21 in West Virginia, twenty-four hours later. As we drug ourselves down the last ramp, I with little Dmitry tucked away in a baby carrier on my chest, we finally saw our other children and many friends standing in front of us holding colorful signs and gifts. Boy, it was good to be home! My fourteen-year-old daughter leapt into my arms and wept as her eyes met the little brown eyes that belonged to her new brother. Now, for her, it also was a reality.

As I write this, we are now a family of six. Dmitry has grown into a tall, beautiful boy with immense energy and charm. He is near his fourth birthday. In March of 2001, our dear Anastasia, who is also Russian, was brought into our lives through a disrupted adoption.

God has surely blessed us. Steve and I are constantly in awe of the joy and peace one receives upon answering a call that God has placed upon your life. As I write this, we are talking of another adoption. Do some people think we are crazy? You bet! What is important is the fact that we know there is no better calling than to love a child who is parentless and without hope. We know that through Christ there is hope, we just need to trust him.