Ten days in Saint Petersburg

Part 2 of who knows how many.

Our first full day in SP started with us registering our file with the Ministry of Education and Family office in downtown SP. That's the doorway into the office in the picture. Pretty nondescript inside, but all the buildings in and around downtown are lovely. No taller than 4 or 5 stories, painted in pastel colors with ornate trims and moldings. Most of the streets run along or over canals. Peter the Great had laborers fill in swamp land and make canals leading to the River Neva which flows into the Bay of Finland. It's called the Venice of the North. I've not been to Venice, so I don't know, but it's really a beautiful and striking downtown.

Kurt and I had been prepped by Oksana prior to this registration. We were to answer the questions and sign the log. I was amazed. We're in a city of 4.5 million, dealing with what would equate to be a regional governmental office, and we were logged in by signing longhand in a bookkeeping log book. This would not be the last time we officially signed off on a document this way. They use computers in SP - the lady (sorry, I did not catch her title) at the Ministry office used one, but our docs were all handled the old-fashioned way.

Our meeting that we were stressed over lasted less than 10 minutes. Then we sat outside the office while our travel partners (G and K) logged in their stuff. After that, we were dropped off at the hotel and given five days to wait. (There was an accreditation glitch at the time we were traveling, so we were handled like an independent adoption rather than an agency adoption - thus there was a five day wait for our paperwork to be reviewed by the Ministry). This also meant we had five days to sightsee.

Vladimir, our driver/tour guide helped us out tremendously. He arranged to take us to Tsarkoe Selo to see Catherine's Palace and Pavlovsk the next day. Catherine's Palace is turquoise on the outside with white trim and quite dazzling in the snow and sun. This palace has the famous "Amber Room" which is actually a reproduction of the original. Most of Catherine's Palace was destroyed by the Russians to keep the Germans from looting it and using it as a headquarters during WWII. (There was a lot of this done in and around SP and it's palaces). Pavlovsk was built for Catherine the Great's son, Paul, and was like walking through a giant Wedgwood box. The ceilings and walls were all pastel with white jasperware designs. Turns out that Wedgwood and Russia have been great pals since Catherine the Great. I think that Pavlovsk was my favorite palace of the five we visited.

Over the next few days we visited The Hermitage (on my bucket list) and the Russian State Museum (which was a palace of a lesser known royal - and that means he did not die a painful and early death). I loved both of these museums as much for their artwork as for the architecture of the buildings, the inlaid wood floors, the incredibly drafty windows. We were so fortunate to have mild weather for our trips. All three trips (Nov, Dec and Jan) were 25-40 degrees. This meant we could walk to the sights and not have to take a car. It's so much faster to walk up Nevsky Prospekt than to drive it. It's equivalent to 5th Avenue at rush hour, only it's 20 hours a day. Of course, all the good places to see in town and our hotels were either on Nevsky or within a block or two of it. Interspersed were McDonald's, KFC and Subway.

Vladimir was not available one day, so his father took the four of us in a very small Rabbit to Peterhof, which is Peter the Great's summer palace. This palace is about one hour outside of SP and 15 minutes in one direction from the baby house where Ben lived and 15 minutes in the other direction from Vladimir Putin's mansion. A little surreal when all is considered.

I think it will be easiest if I make a slide show of all of my sightseeing pics. They really are quite lovely (Kurt took the photos) and you'll get more of a feel for SP. Frankly, I'd go back in a heartbeat.

On the 15th of November, we were to meet Oksana in the lobby of our hotel so we could go to the medical center for our physical examinations. That morning it was snowing - big fat fluffy flakes which made traffic awful but was so pretty to see. I have included a pic of the medical center. We had had our bloodwork, chest x-ray and medical questionnaires all completed prior the leaving the states. We were supposed to be "reviewed" and given a few rudimentary exams (non-invasive) and be sent on our way. Oksana tells us as we're getting in the van that we'll be heading to the baby house after our medicals. We were so excited.

Well, not so fast. The oncologist was palpating my abdomen to check for cancer/tumors and happens upon my enormous uterine fibroids. Uh oh. She gets tense and calls for more tests. I groaned because I'd just had an ultrasound in the states to determine, yet again, that these oranges were not cancerous, just annoying. So, halfway around the world, I get to enjoy a Russian pelvic ultrasound. Thankfully, the equipment looked just like it's American counterparts and the techs were very respectful and professional. So, the halls were dark, the paint was peeling and there's no toilet paper in a medical center's bathrooms. At least they came to the same conclusion my US dr. had come to and let my medical paperwork proceed. Two hour delay, but all was okay (well, except for my nerves).

Of course, the medical center and the baby house were at two opposite points of SP. Lomonosov Baby House is about a one hour drive west and south of SP, along the Bay of Finland. We finally arrived late afternoon (no idea what time, it was almost dark, but dark comes around 4 during the winter up there). We were ushered into a playroom and the workers went to get the babies. G & K's daughter was brought in first. Then in came this chubby, sweet faced baby with a HEAD FULL OF DARK HAIR. Amazing head of hair (it's on the video, it's about all I can say). I thought I would cry or shake. I didn't. All I remember thinking is that this little human was wondrous and might be ours forever. When his caregiver put him down on the rug in front of where I was sitting he cried so I instantly picked him up. He stopped crying and just looked at us. Then he looked at himself in the mirror running along the bottom of the wall. He made no other noise that evening. He did not smile at us. I worried about his health and developmental delays but our IA ped had e-mailed us a checklist to go over with him to determine his abilities. Kurt used his watch as an enticement to see if he would crawl. He did.

The orphanage Director was not present that day. She'd had a death in the family. This was difficult for us because the Director was to share as many details as she had on his time in the baby house, his birth family, etc. We were due to go to the Notary office the next day to sign and say that this child would be ours. Kurt and I had to make this decision without the benefit of his medical/birth background. Daunting. We had a long discussion over a late dinner at the hotel. K, our travel partner, is a doctor and had helped us through anything she might be able to see (she gave him the thumbs up). We felt like this was our child. There are no guarantees and things happen. We'd deal with them. We both went to sleep that night feeling that we'd sign at the notary and feel good about it. And we did. The picture is the doorway to the notary's office. Not glamorous.

We were able to visit the Baby House again two days later. Our visit was about 3-4 hours long. Ben fell asleep in my arms. I sighed and thought if he could fall asleep in my arms then he must like me okay. Kurt and I were completely taken with him. The name we'd chosen seemed to fit him which was a relief since we had committed to it at the notary's office. It all seemed a little out of order but with the right players. Back home after 10 incredible days far far away.

The Long and Winding Road

I now present our adoption story. Please be aware that four years has passed since we decided to adopt from Russia. I am sure that some of the details are lost forever in the blank spaces of my brain.

Kurt and I had discussed adoption prior to and during the IF treatments. He wanted to make sure that we tried everything medically available before we looked at adopting. But he was open to adoption.

We wanted to be parents. We were not concerned with shared genes and bloodlines.

Russia was our first choice to research because Kurt’s grandmother was born and raised in Russia. We felt a natural connection. So I started researching Russian adoptions and agencies on the internet. The amount of information on the internet is exhausting – so much good, a whole lot more is bad. So I read and read and read. I asked my friends and neighbors if they knew anyone who’d adopted internationally. I called my friends’ friends and talked to them about their experiences. I learned so much. I almost felt ready to jump off this cliff.

In March, 2006, Kurt and I attended a seminar hosted by European Adoption Consultants. They are a leading agency in Russian adoptions and have a great reputation. Kurt went in uncommitted. We both left convinced that this was our agency (we also met the greatest Social Worker who handled our local paperwork). We applied with on March 31, 2006. And the paperwork started. We declared that we wanted a baby (12-18 months old) and either a boy or a girl.

It’s difficult to describe the paper chase that accompanies adoption. You have your homestudy, which is the local Social Worker gathering information, referral letters, medical clearances, police clearances, and interviewing you and your spouse. Concurrently, you are also applying for federal government clearance to adopt (which is another set of fingerprints). Then there’s the dossier which took me all summer to get together. The dossier goes to Russia to be reviewed by their government. When you think you are done – you are not. There’s more after the dossier, between trips and when you get home with your child. It’s a huge amount of paperwork. It’s not hard – just amazingly all-inclusive – from your medicals, to your finances, to your mental healthy, to your family history to your employment. Even pictures of your house. No stone is left unturned. And, to be honest, if I was making an adoption plan for a child, I would want to know that my agency/governing body had thoroughly vetted and qualified the adoptive parents, too.

I finished the dossier over Labor Day weekend of 2006. It was reviewed by EAC and sent to Russia two weeks later. The wait had officially begun. We were told that it would be 3-12 months before we would get a referral, maybe less for a boy. On September 29th I received a phone call that a little boy was available. The next six weeks were soooooo slow. When would we travel? How long would we be there? When could we meet him? Would he like us? Would he be really healthy and happy in person? The questions race around your mind carried on hurricane force winds.

On October 20th, we received our travel dates for Trip 1. We would spend 11 days in St. Petersburg. During that time, we’d have medicals confirmed at the local medical center, get out to the orphanage a couple of days and have some wait time in between. It was really going to happen.

Up to this point, we had talked about names, but had decided to wait until we met “him” to make sure his name would fit. This was also a protective measure on our part – just in case it all fell apart.

We flew out on November 8th – overnight to Frankfurt and then an early morning flight from Frankfurt to SP. I don’t sleep on planes – did I mention that yet? Yeah, I watched the movies, read two books, and, even after ½ a sleeping pill, did not sleep. The ½ a pill was due to the fact that Lufthansa Airlines does a cool job with dinner service – drinks, snack, dinner, dessert, coffee, after-dinner drinks and by then four hours has passed and you finally think about sleeping. It’s only an 8 hour flight to Frankfurt. I was pretty zombie-like once in Germany. The flight to SP is four hours long and never crowded. The flight attendants served breakfast as soon as we were airborne, passed out blankets, and told everyone to pick their own row to make into a bed. We slept blissfully.

Upon arriving in SP, I realized two things. The international airport is really dated and “Stalin-esque” in architecture and they DO have toilet paper in the restrooms (at least at the airport – more on that later).

We met up with Oksana, our translator/coordinator/knower-of-all-things and Vladimir our driver/tour guide. We also met G and K, a couple from NY who were adopting their third child from Russia. I am sure we were wide-eyed and slack-jawed on the trip in from the airport. So much to see. So much ended up being familiar – Ford, KFC, Subway, Pizza Hut, Max Factor – SP is a large international city and US industries have found their way into the economy.

I end this first segment with a picture taken on either our first or second day. This is the Church of the Savior on the Spilled Blood. It’s a gorgeous church on the outside and is completely covered – walls, ceilings, and floor - with mosaic tiles inside. During the Communist Era it was used as a storage warehouse for office furniture.