01 July 2005 - First Anniversary

Exactly one year ago today, I sat in the director’s office of the Gadyach orphanage and met my sons for the first time.

The director gave them little toy cars from her desk drawer to keep them occupied while the adults talked. The boys played on the floor by my feet while I tried desperately to understand the rapid-fire discussion in Ukrainian.

Zack only cared about the cars, but Nicky kept stealing glances at me while playing. Every time I caught his eye, he looked away immediately. I remember wondering, as I sat there, how much he understood about what was happening. Mostly, though, I was wondering what the heck I was doing there, whether this could really be happening, and if I’d wake up anytime soon.

Volodya, my translator, cheerfully talked with everyone else, and mostly forgot about translating for me except when I jabbed his midriff with my elbow. Nicky and Zack’s primary caregivers told everything they knew about the boys, which took only five minutes, then Dr. Yuriy led the questioning session. Since Yuriy knew all the questions I wanted to ask, and would share all the answers with me later, I gave up on following the conversation and just watched the boys play.

Could these be my sons?

Zack wasn’t cute back then. His face was too wide, his hair was too short, and despite having been scrubbed only moments before coming into the office, he was already dirty. His only interaction with adults was when his toy car broke and he fast-talked the director into giving him another one. For him, only the Giver of Cars existed. If he had any clue who I was or why I was there, he gave no indication that it mattered to him.

Nicky was dressed in the orphanage’s only suit and dress shirt. All orphanage clothes belong to the orphanage rather than individual children, and what a child wears on a particular day is the luck of the draw. In this case, however, the caregivers had snagged the good stuff for him and dressed him up for the presentation. The suit fit him as well as any suit fits any kid unless it’s been professionally tailored the day before, which is to say it was too big and too small simultaneously, depending on where you cared to measure. He had wisps of hair on either side of his head, like sideburns, that came down below his ears, and his hair in back spilled over the collar of the dress shirt. Since every other child in the orphanage had a buzz-cut like Zack’s, I wondered why Nicky had long hair.

Funny, the things you notice. Zack’s dirty fingernails and Nicky’s wispy hair. Do any of these things matter? Not a bit. They were my sons. We were a family from that day on. I know the moment I made my official decision and started the paperwork, but unofficially, in the part of my heart I don’t even get to know about let alone interrogate, I knew they were my sons as I still sat there watching them play.

Or maybe that’s just how I choose to remember it now. Events aren’t only experienced and interpreted when they happen, they’re reexperienced and reinterpreted over and over in memory as time goes by and we learn more context for them. But whether I’d already decided in my heart at that moment to adopt Nicky and Zack, I decided with my mind later that same day, and started an incredible sequence of events that changed my life, and their lives, forever.

The past year has been a whirlwind. They’ve changed and grown so much, it’s hard to believe. I know that’s always the case with kids, but these little guys had to learn all sorts of things overnight that most kids have the luxury of years to learn. How to be part of a family. What a hamburger tastes like. Spaghetti! Pizza! Flavors of ice cream! How to interact with a dog. How to speak English. What it means to have an extended family. Owning stuff, actually owning stuff! Taking care of clothes, dishes, toys, and their own hygiene. Attending school. Telling time. Learning to read. Making friends. Sharing! Controlling tempers. What adoption means. What having a parent means. Feeling secure, feeling confident, feeling brave. Receiving approval, affirmation, and affection. Giving those things back. Being loved, being wanted.

I’m so proud of them.

We’ve had our ups and downs, our moments of surpassing joy and our tantrums. I’m not just talking about the kids -- it’s been a big adjustment for Daddy, too. But no matter how a particular day is going, I never for one second doubt that I did the right thing. I’m not the perfect father, and they’re not perfect children, but we’re perfect for each other. I can’t imagine living without them.

Celebrate with me, if you will, my first year of fatherhood. Raise a glass, nod knowingly in my direction, and share with me the eternal secret that everyone knows: Parenthood is the greatest challenge and greatest satisfaction a person can have.

Words fail me, but then I always was a softie. If you glimpse a teardrop or two in these paragraphs, know that they are tears of overwhelming joy and happiness.

Nicky and Zack, I love you, and I’m so incredibly glad you’re my sons. I want for you the best that life has to offer. It’s the least I can do – you’ve already given that to me.