One week from today, we will be on our way to St. Pete's for our final trip. On our way to pick up Marat. And as happy as I am, as excited as I am, as crazy as I am, this week is all about saying goodbye.
Today, we said goodbye to Scott's family. Next time we see them, we will be parents. Today, we said goodbye to good friends who will be taking care of our home while we are gone. Next time we see them, we will be parents. Tomorrow, I say goodbye to work. Next time I see everybody, I will be a parent. I even said goodbye to my "I dont wake up before 9 am on Sunday" rule today. After all, the next Sunday we are in NJ, we will be parents....And I assume Marat doesnt follow the 9 am rule (one could only hope).
I have lived 38 years on this earth, taking care of myself for almost half of them. And now, in just a few weeks, I am going to be taking care of a child (a toddler for gods sake!). That child will be depending on me for many things and for many years. How did THAT happen? When did i decide to become responsible for a little boy living in Russia whom I barely know? When do I officially say goodbye to that selfish part of me who has nobody to worry about except myself?
Its a strange transititon...maybe like giving birth, but without the hormones and the weight gain? One day, you are one person....the only one you have ever known and the next day (mid March to be exact) you go and pick up this 22 month old from an orphanage and you are a person that you can only hope to become. And oddly enough, on that very same day, as I cross a threshold into another life, Marat will be crossing his own threshold and saying goodbye to the only life he has ever known.
So until we land in russia one last time, goodbye for now. Its time to start the final journey of bringing Marat home.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The irony of Ash Wednesday
I went to Catholic grammar school and Catholic high school. I am baptized, confirmed and married by the Catholic church. I am also very liberal and over time, have come to disagree with many (most?) Catholic traditions and how the church has evolved (or not evolved?).
And yet, when it comes to my darkest hours and most stressful days, I still turn to God and ask for his help. I don't go to church, I don't even belong to a church, but I do things my own way and believe that at the end of a day, a year, even my life, I did the best I could.
But today, I went to church. Its Ash Wednesday. My colleague at work, an Irish Catholic (who also adopted her son) mentioned she was getting her ashes today and I thought "What the hell? I haven't been to church in a while and I could use an extra blessing." And so I got my ashes.
As I sat in a packed church, half listening, I thought about my father, who has been dealing with health issues. I thought of Marat and wondered what he was doing at that moment. I even thought of those suffering in Haiti, and wondered why things like that happen in this world. And then I got my ashes and went back to work.
And when I got back to work, and checked my cell phone, I saw that the adoption agency had left me a message.
We have a court date.
We are going to Russia in three weeks to adopt our boy and bring him home.
And what was the irony? That message had been left as I was sitting in church, for the first time in a long time, getting my ashes.
I may consider going to church a little more often now.
And yet, when it comes to my darkest hours and most stressful days, I still turn to God and ask for his help. I don't go to church, I don't even belong to a church, but I do things my own way and believe that at the end of a day, a year, even my life, I did the best I could.
But today, I went to church. Its Ash Wednesday. My colleague at work, an Irish Catholic (who also adopted her son) mentioned she was getting her ashes today and I thought "What the hell? I haven't been to church in a while and I could use an extra blessing." And so I got my ashes.
As I sat in a packed church, half listening, I thought about my father, who has been dealing with health issues. I thought of Marat and wondered what he was doing at that moment. I even thought of those suffering in Haiti, and wondered why things like that happen in this world. And then I got my ashes and went back to work.
And when I got back to work, and checked my cell phone, I saw that the adoption agency had left me a message.
We have a court date.
We are going to Russia in three weeks to adopt our boy and bring him home.
And what was the irony? That message had been left as I was sitting in church, for the first time in a long time, getting my ashes.
I may consider going to church a little more often now.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Waiting Game
I know that everybody is wondering where i have been and what is going on, so here it is in a nutshell....nothing is going on and I right here in NJ.
When I was in Alabama last week visiting my father (because he is having some health issues), the adoption agency called my friend Michelle, who is on the same time track as us and who we travelled "with" in St Pete's. The agency told her that some courthouse is being moved in Russia, so we are all on a bit of a delay. Really? That's not a good enough reason in my mind. But what can I do?
Scott told me that a year from now, we wont even remember if we picked up Marat in March or April. I agreed with him.
But on Feb 23, March or April seems like a long ways away...
When I was in Alabama last week visiting my father (because he is having some health issues), the adoption agency called my friend Michelle, who is on the same time track as us and who we travelled "with" in St Pete's. The agency told her that some courthouse is being moved in Russia, so we are all on a bit of a delay. Really? That's not a good enough reason in my mind. But what can I do?
Scott told me that a year from now, we wont even remember if we picked up Marat in March or April. I agreed with him.
But on Feb 23, March or April seems like a long ways away...
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Radio Silence
So I am finally recovering from jet lag and emotional craziness after spending 4 days in Russia.....although I am still VERY tired. Since we arrived home, it has been non-stop, between setting up Brody's room (some call it "nesting", I call it exhausting), going back to work and just establishing a routine again!
So what in the world did the Cargills actually DO while in Russia besides visiting Brody Marat?
Day One
Met with the Russian Ministry Of Education which provided us with our official referral of Marat. I expected a scary "old school" communist lady wearing a uniform and I got an administrator, younger than me, braces and all, wearing a nice sweater. She even (almost) smiled as she spoke to us in Russian and our interpreter translated. "We have this boy available for adoption (as Marat's face appeared on a computer screen) Are you interested?"
Later that afternoon, we met Marat for the first time, and as you know by now, the rest (with him!) is history.
Later that night, we met up with another couple from Virginia, George and Michelle, who ironically enough are adopting a little boy as well through our same adoption agency. What a great time we had, sharing our adventures. Despite our exhaustion from the trip and the day, it was cathartic to share this journey with people going through it too. They will probably be in Russia again in February when we are. We feel very lucky to share our experiences.
Day Two
Slept in...thank God. Daily 4 pm appt with Marat at the orphanage. One hour with him exactly. On the dot. No going over. That was it. 4-5 pm. Now THAT was Russia for you :)
Day Three
I have no idea what we did. We had our 4 pm appt with Marat again. That's all I remember. God, what a week!
Day Four, Christmas Day
The day began at 9 am. It was pitch black outside and cold. Our driver picked us up and we headed to the Notary's office. It was time to sign the paperwork. We officially accepted our referral and now it was time to sign documents to generate the court process to adopt Marat.
Again (because I guess I lived through the Cold War? What was i thinking?!), I expected scary "old school" nasty ladies wearing long dresses and speaking loudly. Nope....not at all. In fact, I felt like I was at "DC37" again (for those of you who don't know, that was when I worked in NYC as a matrimonial attorney for a union/legal services plan) Actually, the notary's office was NICER than DC37. Go figure. Somebody even wished me a happy birthday (one day early)
We left the notary's and went apartment hunting. Again, from having watched WAY too many movies, I expected dingy, small apartments. Uh...well guess what? They are nicer than my condo...
The day continued with visiting Marat at 4 pm. Today, an English speaking pediatrician came and examined him and gave us a clean bill of health. We simply have a very skinny, but overall, healthy little boy. What a Christmas present! This was by far the oddest and happiest Christmas we have ever had.
Finally, we stopped at the European Medical Center on the way back to the hotel because we are required to have a Russian doctor examine us and do blood tests (even though our US doctor has examined us TWICE so far and we have another appt tomorrow) So we all know what I was picturing right? Nurses in big white hats, cement walls with no windows, insane patients screaming in the halls. And guess what? I was right...
Kidding! Again, all of my stereotypes shot to hell. The doctor was great, the nurse was professional and if all medical clinics in Russia run as well as this one did, I would be happy to fly to Russia for all of my future medical care.
So in a nutshell that was our week. And now, we wait.
We wait for the Russian court system to give us a date to go back and officially adopt Marat. Should be in about 6-8 weeks, if all runs smoothly.
So expect radio silence from me for a while. Until then, nothing to do, but "nest" I suppose :)
So what in the world did the Cargills actually DO while in Russia besides visiting Brody Marat?
Day One
Met with the Russian Ministry Of Education which provided us with our official referral of Marat. I expected a scary "old school" communist lady wearing a uniform and I got an administrator, younger than me, braces and all, wearing a nice sweater. She even (almost) smiled as she spoke to us in Russian and our interpreter translated. "We have this boy available for adoption (as Marat's face appeared on a computer screen) Are you interested?"
Later that afternoon, we met Marat for the first time, and as you know by now, the rest (with him!) is history.
Later that night, we met up with another couple from Virginia, George and Michelle, who ironically enough are adopting a little boy as well through our same adoption agency. What a great time we had, sharing our adventures. Despite our exhaustion from the trip and the day, it was cathartic to share this journey with people going through it too. They will probably be in Russia again in February when we are. We feel very lucky to share our experiences.
Day Two
Slept in...thank God. Daily 4 pm appt with Marat at the orphanage. One hour with him exactly. On the dot. No going over. That was it. 4-5 pm. Now THAT was Russia for you :)
Day Three
I have no idea what we did. We had our 4 pm appt with Marat again. That's all I remember. God, what a week!
Day Four, Christmas Day
The day began at 9 am. It was pitch black outside and cold. Our driver picked us up and we headed to the Notary's office. It was time to sign the paperwork. We officially accepted our referral and now it was time to sign documents to generate the court process to adopt Marat.
Again (because I guess I lived through the Cold War? What was i thinking?!), I expected scary "old school" nasty ladies wearing long dresses and speaking loudly. Nope....not at all. In fact, I felt like I was at "DC37" again (for those of you who don't know, that was when I worked in NYC as a matrimonial attorney for a union/legal services plan) Actually, the notary's office was NICER than DC37. Go figure. Somebody even wished me a happy birthday (one day early)
We left the notary's and went apartment hunting. Again, from having watched WAY too many movies, I expected dingy, small apartments. Uh...well guess what? They are nicer than my condo...
The day continued with visiting Marat at 4 pm. Today, an English speaking pediatrician came and examined him and gave us a clean bill of health. We simply have a very skinny, but overall, healthy little boy. What a Christmas present! This was by far the oddest and happiest Christmas we have ever had.
Finally, we stopped at the European Medical Center on the way back to the hotel because we are required to have a Russian doctor examine us and do blood tests (even though our US doctor has examined us TWICE so far and we have another appt tomorrow) So we all know what I was picturing right? Nurses in big white hats, cement walls with no windows, insane patients screaming in the halls. And guess what? I was right...
Kidding! Again, all of my stereotypes shot to hell. The doctor was great, the nurse was professional and if all medical clinics in Russia run as well as this one did, I would be happy to fly to Russia for all of my future medical care.
So in a nutshell that was our week. And now, we wait.
We wait for the Russian court system to give us a date to go back and officially adopt Marat. Should be in about 6-8 weeks, if all runs smoothly.
So expect radio silence from me for a while. Until then, nothing to do, but "nest" I suppose :)
Sunday, December 27, 2009
We are home
Traveling to Russia: long
Being in Russia: emotional
Leaving Russia: exhausting
Meeting our son, Brody Marat Cargill: worth it all
Being in Russia: emotional
Leaving Russia: exhausting
Meeting our son, Brody Marat Cargill: worth it all
Friday, December 25, 2009
Merry Christmas Marat
Today is Christmas Day 2009. In Russia, Christmas Day is celebrated on January 7, so today, was like any other normal day for us....sort of.
We officially accepted our referral of Brody Marat Cargill, which means in about 8 weeks, we will be returning to St. Pete's to pick up our son. Today was oddly enough, almost sunny. Is that a sign?
We had many things to do today...the notary's office, looking at apartments, getting a physical at the Russian medical clinic (I will explain that later) and of course, saying goodbye to Marat. As hard as it was (he walked right up to me today and hugged me! thats a first!), we cant believe we spent an hour on Christmas day with our son. We are parents now. We have a little boy. A little boy who lives far far away. Soon enough, we will be back.
Tomorrow, my birthday, December 26, we leave St. Pete's and fly home.
Merry Christmas Marat. We will have a stocking full of toys waiting for you next Christmas.
We officially accepted our referral of Brody Marat Cargill, which means in about 8 weeks, we will be returning to St. Pete's to pick up our son. Today was oddly enough, almost sunny. Is that a sign?
We had many things to do today...the notary's office, looking at apartments, getting a physical at the Russian medical clinic (I will explain that later) and of course, saying goodbye to Marat. As hard as it was (he walked right up to me today and hugged me! thats a first!), we cant believe we spent an hour on Christmas day with our son. We are parents now. We have a little boy. A little boy who lives far far away. Soon enough, we will be back.
Tomorrow, my birthday, December 26, we leave St. Pete's and fly home.
Merry Christmas Marat. We will have a stocking full of toys waiting for you next Christmas.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Remembering
There will be many things I remember about this trip...like getting off the plane in St Petes and some security guard taking Xray photos of each passenger. WTF?? Or driving to the Ministry of Education (which handles Russian adoptions) at 9 am on a cold blustery day, thinking "I am really in Russia. Why is it still pitch black outside?"
But what I will remember most is walking into Baby home #4 on Tuesday December 22 2009 at 4 pm and looking around at a clean well-kept "old school" building where my son lives. Ludmilla, his caretaker, greeted us at the door and made us put plastic booties on our feet. When we arrived at a play area, we needed to remove our boots and wait inside. I will always remember shaking like a leaf, thinking I was going to pass out. I had heard stories from others that I would feel this way, but I never imagined it would actually happen to me. My life was about to forever change. I was about to become a mom, in the strangest of ways.
And before I could think another thought, in walked Marat, with his blue eyes and blond hair. He looked at us, wondering who we were. We walked into the playroom and immediately his tears began. And all I could do was laugh, from relief, from joy, from days upon days of anxiety. Here we were, in Baby Home #4 with Marat, 2 days before Christmas.
I figured if he was crying, then it was ok for me to cry too.
And this day, I will always remember.
But what I will remember most is walking into Baby home #4 on Tuesday December 22 2009 at 4 pm and looking around at a clean well-kept "old school" building where my son lives. Ludmilla, his caretaker, greeted us at the door and made us put plastic booties on our feet. When we arrived at a play area, we needed to remove our boots and wait inside. I will always remember shaking like a leaf, thinking I was going to pass out. I had heard stories from others that I would feel this way, but I never imagined it would actually happen to me. My life was about to forever change. I was about to become a mom, in the strangest of ways.
And before I could think another thought, in walked Marat, with his blue eyes and blond hair. He looked at us, wondering who we were. We walked into the playroom and immediately his tears began. And all I could do was laugh, from relief, from joy, from days upon days of anxiety. Here we were, in Baby Home #4 with Marat, 2 days before Christmas.
I figured if he was crying, then it was ok for me to cry too.
And this day, I will always remember.
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