adoption · india · india adoption · life · multicultural families · our adoption story

Adoption in Finland: our story, chapter IV

[this is the fourth and last part of our adoption story. Find part 1 here,  part 2 here, and part 3 here]

I was at work when the social worker called me to announce the Indian Court has ruled the E. was our son. I started crying in the office phone boot. I charged myself with weeks of stress for the wait and I could finally release it. First, I called my husband and quite hysterically deliver the good news. Then I started calling the grandparents, who had just left from visiting us for Christmas. I just couldn’t keep it to myself and started blabbering about it with any colleague who crossed my path. Oh my god, that meant the trip was close, that meant I was about to have another child for real – here, panic set it for a good half hour, I’m not reaaadyyy! That day, when I picked R. up from daycare, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I ran to her and told her that finally the judge had said yes and we could go pick up her brother! (By the way, that poor judge was earlier blamed for having her taking the blood and urine tests. I feel guilty about that, but try go and explain it to a three year old.)

That night, my attitude to my husband was sort of “have you booked the flight already?”. I said it, I am not good at waiting. We put everything we could in motion and after the green light from the adoption agency we were ready to go. We left Finland on February 17th, 2017, to go meet our son. Few days afterwards, we were at his children’s home to pick him up.

r_and_e.png
E. and R. meet for the very first time.

When you read about adoption journeys online, people stop telling their story at the gotcha day. To me, this feels when the journey really starts. Before August 2016, everything was existing only in my head. It was a possibility, something that could happen, or still could not, and being forced to change the adoption country had proven that to me. In the limbo between the match and the gotcha day, it all started growing in my heart, but I was still keeping myself a little detached, because I knew something could still go wrong. Then the real adventure began. At first, it was a traumatised child who clearly felt we were kidnapping him. Then, a confused toddler who all of sudden was taken care of from complete strangers. Day after day, a blooming wonderful child who was accepting us in his life, allowing us to love him and believing in us. And I’m aware none of this is for granted in an adoption, and that makes me grateful every single day. It’s been eight months since he came living with us. Seems like a lifetime, seems like the blink of an eye. I am tired and some days I am discouraged, but I am madly in love with my little guy. I am grateful for everything he’s giving me, I am proud of everything he’s learned in such a short period, and how well he’s adapting to his new life. I am proud of the teacher he is to me, showing me how much I can learn as a parent and as an individual. And I am happy to share our lifelong journey together.

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