by Cathy Glass
‘It will get easier each time we see her,’ Ian said. It wasn’t just the driver who’d said this, but other families who’d adopted. They’d warned them not to expect too much during the first week of introductions and to just go with what the child felt comfortable with. This had also been covered during the three-day preparation course they’d had to attend in the UK as part of their adoption assessment.
Ian booked cabs for the following day, one for 9.30 a.m. to take them to the children’s store Dr Ciobanu had recommended in town, and the other to the orphanage for 2 p.m. Using public transport wasn’t an option, as buses were infrequent and unreliable. They were going to donate Lana’s belongings to the orphanage as Dr Ciobanu had suggested, so that night as Ian showered before bed Elaine sorted through their suitcases, carefully taking out what they’d packed for Lana that couldn’t be used for Anastasia: clothes, nappies, baby toys, packets of milk and food, dummy and so on. There was a lot; they’d brought extra in case they got delayed in the country, and had distributed it between both their cases. Now, as Elaine carefully put Lana’s belongings into carrier bags she kept finding herself overcome with emotion and had to stop to wipe away her tears. Although other children would benefit from their donation, these things had been bought specifically for Lana. Elaine remembered the joy she’d felt when choosing the little clothes and toys and carefully packing them in the cases. There were other first-year baby items at home and Elaine would sort out those when they returned.
By the time Ian came out of the shower the items they were donating to the orphanage were in carrier bags ready for the next day, apart from one teddy bear – a special bear they’d had personalized with Lana’s name.
‘Do you think we could visit Lana’s grave?’ Elaine asked Ian as she held the bear. ‘I’d like to put this on her grave if possible.’
‘That’s a lovely idea. We’ll ask Dr Ciobanu,’ Ian said, giving her a hug. Elaine wasn’t the only one with tears in her eyes.
The following morning they woke feeling refreshed and in a positive frame of mind. They knew there would be a lot of waiting around as the legal wheels turned in international adoption, but today they’d be busy and productive. A different cab driver took them to the children’s store in town and showed them where to catch a cab back, reassuring them that it would be easy to find a cab at the stand so he didn’t need to wait. The shop selling children’s goods was one of four large stores set side by side and back from the main road. They were clearly upmarket, with dazzling, brightly lit window displays, and their goods would only be affordable to a few. The other three sold furniture, carpets and electrical goods.
Inside the children’s store, Ian and Elaine wandered up and down the aisles of carefully laid out merchandise. It was so unlike any of the other local shops they’d seen during their stay so far, with smartly dressed assistants on hand to help. It sold everything imaginable for babies and young children: good-quality goods, mostly imported and therefore very expensive. Using the calculator on Ian’s phone, they converted the prices into pounds as they went. Most of the goods were at least double what they would have paid at home but they weren’t surprised that Dr Ciobanu had sent them to such an expensive store. It was widely thought in countries that practised international adoption that those adopting must be very wealthy, although in fact most had average incomes and had saved up to finance the trip, forgoing holidays and similar, remortgaging their home or taking out a bank loan. But of course compared to the locals they were wealthy.
They needed clothes for Anastasia and bought seven outfits to see her through the next three to four weeks, assuming they could be washed, and some toys, all of which Ian paid for on his credit card.
That afternoon they had the same cab driver as on their first and previous day’s visits to the orphanage, and he told them his name was Daniel – Danny for short. Ian was carrying the bags of Lana’s belongings and Elaine the items they were taking that day for Anastasia: three sets of clothes, underwear, pyjamas, sandals and some of the toys – an activity centre and two jigsaw puzzles. They’d decided not to take everything they’d bought for her in one go, as it could be overwhelming for Anastasia and also it would have to be stored somewhere in the orphanage.
Danny parked outside the orphanage, sounded the car’s horn to draw attention, and Ian and Elaine were let in by the care worker they’d seen the day before, who managed a small nod. They’d only seen two care workers so far in the orphanage for all thirty children.
‘Dr Ciobanu?’ Ian asked the care worker once they were inside and pointed to his office. ‘Is he here?’ She shook her head. ‘These are for the orphanage,’ Ian said, showing her the carrier bags of Lana’s belongings. ‘Clothes and toys for the children.’
She nodded. ‘I take them,’ she said, apparently understanding.
‘Thank you.’ He passed her the carrier bags.
‘These clothes are for Anastasia,’ Elaine said, holding up the bag containing her clothes. ‘Where shall I put them?’
‘I take them,’ the care worker said again, and Elaine handed her the bag. They’d left the teddy bear with Lana’s name on it in their hotel room and they’d ask Dr Ciobanu when they next saw him if it would be possible to put it on Lana’s grave.
‘Where is Anastasia?’ Elaine now asked.
The care worker nodded in the direction of the ‘playroom’ and they went in. She wasn’t there. The stained and faded beanbag and small heap of broken toys sat forlornly where they’d been the day before. ‘The care worker has probably gone to fetch her,’ Ian said, looking round.
A minute or so later a child’s footsteps could be heard running down the corridor, then Anastasia flew into the room. She looked pleased to see them.
‘Hello, love,’ Elaine said, going to her. ‘How are you?’ The care worker closed the door behind her.
Anastasia spotted the carrier bag Elaine held and, remembering that a similar bag had held gifts the day before, tugged at it.
‘Yes, they are for you,’ Elaine said, smiling, and took out the activity centre. ‘Come on, let’s sit down and we’ll show you how it works.’
Intrigued, Anastasia went with them and sat beside Elaine on the beanbag as Ian sat on the floor on the other side of her. Elaine placed the activity centre on Anastasia’s lap and together she and Ian began showing her how it worked, pressing the various brightly coloured keys to give a letter of the alphabet, number or colour, followed by a four-note tune. Anastasia tapped a few of the keys and then peered into the carrier bag to see what else was in there. Elaine took out one of the jigsaw puzzles and remarked to Ian, ‘I wonder where her doll, crayons and colouring book that we brought in yesterday are?’ They’d left them in the playroom.
‘Perhaps she has them in her cot?’ Ian suggested.
‘Doll?’ Elaine asked Anastasia, hoping the child might recognize the word from the day before. But she was more interested in the puzzle.
They showed her how the pieces went together and then Anastasia wanted to see what else was in the bag. Elaine took out the second puzzle, but as she and Ian began to assemble it the child lost interest again. With the carrier bag empty, Anastasia picked up Elaine’s handbag.
‘I know what you’re after,’ Elaine said, smiling. ‘You want to see the photographs on my phone. Shall we do the jigsaw first and then look at photographs?’
But Anastasia didn’t like that idea and was most insistent on opening Elaine’s handbag, babbling in her own language. Elaine set the jigsaw to one side and took out her phone. She then went through the photographs as she had done the day before, telling Anastasia what they were and repeating simple words like ‘house’ and ‘ball’, hoping Anastasia would try to say the words.
Having got to the end of Elaine’s photos, Anastasia began tugging on Ian’s arm, signalling that she wanted to see the photographs on his phone. He laughed indulgently and took out his phone. Anastasia wanted to hold it and he let her. She began pressing the keys and then didn
’t want to return it. Fearing the phone might get broken or his messages and contacts erased, Ian gently eased it from her hand. She wasn’t happy and jumped up from the beanbag and ran to the window, where she banged on the glass. Not wanting to upset her, Ian relented and held out his phone. Anastasia returned to the beanbag and then spent some minutes pressing various buttons before losing interest and discarding it in favour of the activity centre.
Anastasia clearly had a personality and will of her own, but that was good, wasn’t it? It showed she was intelligent and developing normally. Elaine had read that children of Anastasia’s age sought greater autonomy and exerted their will power, which could lead to tantrums, hence the expression ‘the terrible twos’. But all in all they felt their time with Anastasia had gone well. They had a lot to learn as new parents as well as getting to know Anastasia. She hadn’t been as agitated and unsettled as she had been the day before, and while she’d gone to the window a number of times, it had been easy to persuade her away. She seemed more comfortable around them (they weren’t complete strangers any more), and although she hadn’t settled to an activity for very long, it was early days yet and many two-year-olds have short attention spans.
When the hour was up, Ian and Elaine felt they could have stayed a little longer, but mindful of what Dr Ciobanu had said about keeping to the hour, they began to pack away. Anastasia wanted to keep the activity centre, which was fine. They went to find a care worker to say they were going. ‘This toy is for Anastasia,’ Elaine said, pointing to the activity centre. The care worker nodded as though she understood. ‘Do you know where her doll and crayons are?’ Elaine asked. The care worker frowned, puzzled, either not knowing or not understanding. ‘Doll?’ Elaine said, and mimed a small baby in her arms. The care worker shook her head. ‘Crayons?’ Elaine said, moving her hand as though drawing. The care worker shrugged. Anastasia babbled something in her own language and the care worker shrugged and shook her head.
‘Don’t worry,’ Ian said to Elaine. ‘If they don’t turn up we’ll ask Dr Ciobanu where they are when we see him.’ It wasn’t that the toys had been expensive – they hadn’t been – but they’d been the first gifts they’d given to Anastasia and for this reason the doll especially would have sentimental value in years to come.
As they began to say goodbye, to their delight, instead of sending Anastasia away while the care worker saw them out, she was allowed to go with them to the gate. Elaine offered Anastasia her hand to hold as they walked but she refused, which was hardly surprising, as she barely knew them. They said goodbye to her at the gate and then waved as Anastasia watched them get into the cab. The care worker locked the gate.
‘Nice-looking kid,’ Danny said, and they both agreed.
That evening Ian and Elaine felt confident enough that everything was going as planned to message their family and friends with an update. Elaine’s parents were dead but she had a sister who, while not living close, had been very supportive and was eagerly awaiting news. Ian’s parents lived closer but had expressed reservations about their plans to adopt from abroad; however his brother and his family had wished them well. Ian messaged his parents that everything was fine and not to worry, and sent his brother a few extra details about the orphanage and their time with Anastasia. They also updated the friends they’d made online in the international adoption support group forums.
They slept well, and the next day continued the routine that was likely to see them through to the court hearing when Anastasia would become theirs. In the morning they walked to the local supermarket where they stocked up on bottled water and bought fresh bread, cheese and cooked meats for their lunch, and in the afternoon they took the cab to the orphanage. When they arrived Anastasia was in one of the dresses they’d bought for her and the new sandals. She looked lovely and more like their child now that she was wearing what they had chosen for her. ‘We’ll have to buy her a hairbrush and some bands and I’ll braid her hair,’ Elaine said as they settled in the playroom. Every mother wants to see her child looking smart and their hair neat. Anastasia’s hair was long and unkempt.
There was still no sign of the doll, crayons or colouring book, but Anastasia had the activity centre they’d left with her the day before, so they played with that, plus the new toys in the bag they’d brought with them. These included a toy mobile phone, which sounded a recorded message when the numbers were pressed. The hope was that Anastasia would play with this rather then their phones, but their hope was short-lived. Although she liked pressing the buttons and listening to the recorded messages – Hello, how are you? and similar – it didn’t contain the photographs that Elaine’s and Ian’s phones did. Anastasia was very insistent that she should play with both their phones, and of course, wanting her to be happy, they let her.
Another of the toys they’d brought with them was a basket of play food and they told her the names of the food in English as she picked them up – apple, pear, bun, jar of jam and so on – repeating the words so that Anastasia would eventually start to use them as she began to learn English.
At the end of the hour, Anastasia was allowed to see them to the gate again. Elaine and Ian felt their time with her had been positive and they were starting to build a relationship. They’d noticed that Anastasia didn’t often make eye contact and she wasn’t ready for a hug or kiss yet, but given that they’d only just come into her life, this wasn’t surprising. They’d read all about bonding and it had been covered in the preparation course, and mentioned by other adoptive parents. They were aware it would take time for Anastasia to trust them and allow herself to feel affection.
The next day, when Anastasia was brought to them, she was barefoot and wearing a faded T-shirt and shorts, not one of the outfits they’d bought for her.
‘Where are her clothes?’ Elaine asked the care worker – the same one they’d given the clothes to. She shrugged as though she didn’t know or understand. ‘Or care,’ Ian later said to Elaine.
Ian had their phrase book with him and found the word for clothes. He said it a few times but the care worker shrugged and upturned her hands, suggesting she hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. He showed her the word in the phrase book, wondering if he wasn’t pronouncing it correctly, but she shrugged again. Anastasia was holding the activity centre and she ran off into the playroom, while the care worker disappeared down the corridor into one of the nursery rooms where a child had begun to scream.
‘We’ll ask about the clothes later,’ Ian said to Elaine as they went to the playroom.
Anastasia was sitting on the beanbag expectantly and, while she had the activity centre, there was no sign of the toy phone or puzzle they’d left in the room the day before. Dr Ciobanu had said she’d be the only one using this room for now. They were rotating the toys they brought with them with the idea that Anastasia would have something different to play with each day, but where were they? There was still no sign of the doll, crayons and colouring book either. As Elaine settled beside Anastasia on the beanbag, Ian said he’d go to see if he could find a care worker and ask again about the missing clothes and toys.
He found the one they’d seen earlier in a nursery room dressing a child – presumably the one who’d been screaming – and Ian thought she was rough, although she was clearly rushing, as they were so short-staffed. ‘Sorry to trouble you,’ he said. ‘But Anastasia’s toys are missing as well as her clothes.’
She ignored him and kept her back turned. He took a step in and said, ‘If you tell me where you keep Anastasia’s toys and clothes, I can fetch them, as you are busy.’
‘You go,’ she said rudely, not looking at him. ‘I have to see to the child.’
Not wishing to upset her further, Ian returned to the playroom. At the end of the hour Ian asked the same care worker if Dr Ciobanu was in and she shook her head. ‘When will he be in his office?’ he asked.
She shrugged, but then said, ‘Children lose their things,’ suggesting she had understood and knew why they
wanted to see him.
Ian didn’t pursue it with her, but the following day Anastasia was wearing the first dress they’d bought her, although the activity centre was nowhere to be seen. They asked the care worker – the other one – where her toys were but were met with the same dismissive shrug, which said she didn’t know or understand. Dr Ciobanu wasn’t in, and as Elaine played with Anastasia in the playroom Ian went to see if the missing toys were in Anastasia’s cot. They weren’t, and he noticed the mattress cover was grubby, as indeed were most of the covers in the other cots. The room smelled of urine and sweat, and as Ian glanced around at the children he felt guilty for worrying about a few missing toys when there was so much misery around him. On returning to Elaine he said, ‘The sooner we get Anastasia out of here the better.’
When they left that afternoon Ian asked the care worker when Dr Ciobanu would be in.
‘Not here,’ the care worker said.
‘I know. When will he be here?’
She shrugged.
‘I’ll phone him,’ Ian said to Elaine, frustrated. Apart from wanting to find Anastasia’s belongings, he wanted to know if they had a court date yet.
As it turned out, Ian didn’t have to phone Dr Ciobanu, for just as they got into their cab a car drew up behind them and Dr Ciobanu got out. ‘Please wait, we need to speak to him,’ Ian said to Danny.
Anastasia had retuned inside by now with the care worker and Dr Ciobanu greeted them warmly and shook their hands.
‘Your time with Anastasia is going well?’ he asked them.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Ian said.
‘She waves you off at the gate?’
‘She comes to the gate, yes.’
‘Good. I tell the care workers to bring the children out to say goodbye. It’s nice for the parents.’
‘Thank you.’