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Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
Danica Vermont hugs her mother, Lisa Vermont, and her grandmother, Saratogan Rhoda Goldstone.
From Russia With Love
Abandoned and relinquished Eastern European children attract local adoptive parents
By Sandy Sims
Late in 1997 in a remote part of Siberia, a newborn baby was found abandoned in a railway station. The nurses at a nearby hospital recognized her as Svetlana. She'd been born at the hospital. The authorities searched for Svetlana's mother and couldn't find her. Like thousands of mothers in Russia today, she had abandoned her child.
On the other side of the globe a Los Gatos couple, Lisa and Patrick Vermont, who already had two little boys, were considering adopting a baby girl.
Eventually, Sventlana and the Vermonts would meet. But it would be a long and arduous journey.
Svetlana's journey was shaped by Russia's dire economic conditions since the fall of the Soviet Union. Poverty and its attendant problems of poor health, alcoholism, mental illness and myriad other conditions, contribute to hundreds of thousands of children either being left on doorsteps or legally relinquished. In June 1999, ITAR/TASS reported some 250,000 children living in orphanages, and countless other children living on the streets.
The Vermonts found out about these Russian children by accident. They saw an ad in a parenting magazine and, subsequently, found themselves sitting in an informational meeting through the Domoi Foundation. Domoi (translation: "let's go home") Foundation was founded by Shayna Billings, who successfully adopted a Russian child after two domestic adoptions ended when both sets of biological parents reclaimed their babies. Billings started her program of information, support and financial assistance for adoption when she saw how many children were languishing in orphanages in Russia and Eastern Europe.
The Vermonts had considered domestic adoption. But they were troubled by what they had heard--friends on a waiting list for more than two years and biological parents taking babies back during the first six months before the adoption is final. They were also concerned about media reports on court decisions returning children to biological parents. "I would feel so vulnerable, like someone could come and take my child away at any time," Lisa Vermont says.
Many considering adoption are skeptical of not only losing their adoptive children but also of the recent trend for maintaining ties with the child's biological family.
Russian adoption laws today are more like the American laws of 30 years ago. Once a Russian child is relinquished, the biological parents have no rights.
Russia encourages her own people to adopt. An abandoned child like Svetlana must wait six months either to be claimed by family members or adopted by Russians before becoming eligible for foreign adoption. Russians are always given first choice, even if a foreign adoption is in progress.
But, despite government encouragement, Russians are not adopting many children these days. This has put Russia in the position of handing her children over for international adoption. And with all the fear and trepidation of any mother, Russia has changed her mind and closed her doors from time to time and even changed her laws.
Still, Americans today are adopting more children from Russia than from any other foreign country. Last year approximately 4,348 children found their way into American homes, up from a scant 12 children in 1991. And it is in upper income areas like the Bay Area where so many of these children are finding homes.
When the Vermonts attended their first Domoi meeting, agency representatives spoke about the home-study process, support groups and finances. Adoptive families spoke about the emotional and social adjustments, the trip to Russia, adopting older children or siblings, bonding, special needs and single-parent adoption. The Vermonts could see the work ahead of them but they could also have their baby girl without years of waiting and the fear of losing her. Like so many others, the Vermonts thought the effort was worth it.
"That meeting clinched it for us," Lisa said.
In January 1998 they chose a San Francisco adoption agency, Russian Adoption Facilitator Services (RAFS). They filled out a form for the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) asking for approval to bring an immigrant into the country.
Then they began gathering personal records for Russian authorities to approve them for adoption. There was a home study by a social worker who met with them several times. They collected medical exams, birth certificates, marriage certificates, a copy of their property deed, criminal record checks, proof of employment, tax statements for the previous two years, a statement of intent to support the child and more. Everything was notarized and apostilled (special authorization from Sacramento for documents used in foreign counties).
There would be fees for the home study, INS, the adoption facilitator's travel back and forth to Russia, translation of documents, foreign government fees, the Vermonts' travel expenses to, from and within Russia, payment to the home where they would stay in Russia and a donation to the orphanage. The total can amount to some $25,000 when everything is done.

Photograph courtesy of Patrick and Lisa Vermont
The Vermont family enjoys a picnic together.
RAFS wouldn't begin the coordination with Russia until the INS granted approval. "We ran to the mailbox every day," Lisa says. Finally, after three months the letter of approval came.
Then the RAFS social worker showed them pictures and a video of Svetlana. She appeared to be a healthy and very cute baby. She even looked like Lisa. They wanted her. They started calling her by an American name, Danica.
The medical information was sketchy--height, weight, head circumference OK. She rolls over, holds her head well, good feet support, strong. The record showed she'd been seen by seven specialists and was in good health.
Still, the Vermonts followed recommended precautions. They sent the records and the videos to two pediatricians on the East Coast who specialize in evaluating internationally adopted children. One said the baby looks healthy. The other, Dr. Jerri Jenista in Ann Arbor, Mich., was more hesitant. The video didn't show the baby in the nude. Something could be hidden, the doctor reasoned.
"These children come from a country with terrible public health," Jenista says. The average man lives to only 58, many dying of alcoholism or related medical problems. "You never get the entire medical records of these children, though it's all there somewhere," she says.
The detsky doms (children's homes) are underfunded, and often the children are malnourished. The adoption coordinator may not be well trained to spot developmental or medical problems. "It's important to find an agency with a long track record of good results, one willing to go back and ask more medical questions," Jenista says.
There are many important questions, but answers aren't always available. How has the child grown and developed over time? Why did the mother give the child up? Are there siblings? How has the child behaved in the orphanage?
"There are things you cannot know," Jenista adds. For instance, how a child who's been in an institution will fit into family life. You can't know about learning disabilities (a possible result of a biological mother's alcoholism) till the child reaches school age.
Another potential problem is "reactive attachment disorder," (RAD) where children have difficulty bonding with and trusting parents or anyone. This can be especially true for children who have lived their early years in an institution or who have been moved from foster home to foster home.
Adoption social worker John Edakara, who handles domestic adoption in Marin County, says sometimes it's not till the child is older, maybe 11 or 12 and acting out, that trust issues become more apparent.
Both Edakara and Jenista say adoptive parents need to be educated about what they might be facing, and they need support. Jenista tells of an adoption coordinator in the East who places the most difficult-to-place children with almost 100 percent success rate. "The coordinator prepares the adoptive parents for worst-case scenarios, even role-plays various situations," Jenista says.
Rhonda Jarema, director of Family Support Service at Nightlight Foundation in Fullerton, who has adopted four older girls, says their agency's home study is 20 to 30 percent interview and 70 to 80 percent education.
You don't have to have a picture-perfect-no-problem family to be a happy family, Jenista says. She has adopted five children from India, one with cerebral palsy. It all depends on your expectations. She says if parents have high expectation for "perfect" children, or want children to be gifted in school, then it's very risky.
Lisa Vermont says, "No matter how much research you do, it's still a leap of faith. In fact," she says, "it's the same with a biological child. There are no guarantees there either."

Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
Danica pretends to talk to her father on her toy telephone.
The Vermonts decided to adopt Svetlana. RAFS sent the documents off to the education minister and the court in the region where Svetlana lived.
"We practically sat by the phone waiting for the call," Lisa recalls.
Finally, a call came in July. But there'd been some change in the law. They had to wait longer, maybe October.
Waiting was difficult because the Vermonts had already bonded with Danica. "That was our little girl over there in that orphanage and we wanted to go get her."
They relied on new friends from support groups like Domoi and FRUA (Families for Russian and Ukrainian Adoption). Friends who spoke Russian called the region to find out what was happening. Other adoptive parents returning from the same detsky dom brought back pictures of Danica.
In fact, adoptive parents ferry what they can of donated medical and other needed supplies to the detsky doms. Shana Billings is always asking people to donate vitamins.
Finally, in October, the long awaited phone call came. A court date was set. The Vermonts had to depart for Russia in less than a week. However, there were a couple of problems. The Russian judge was concerned that the Vermonts' deed didn't say there was a house on the property, and the judge also wanted three medical exams instead of just one.
Fortunately, since the Vermonts live in the small town of Los Gatos, in just one day they were able to get the mayor to sign a letter stating there was a house on the property. Their adoption coordinator called Russia and convinced the judge to accept the original medical exam.
The Vermonts climbed onto the plane for Russia. They didn't know how long they would be gone. The law in Russia said they must remain in the country for 10 days after the court date.
They were joined on the plane by Ann and Peter Hillen from Palo Alto, who were adopting a 22-month-old boy from the same detsky dom. The Hillens are in their 40s and this would be their first child.
It was a long flight, but all the connections went smoothly, including being met at the airport by their coordinator, and driven another four hours to the Russian homes where they stayed. When the Vermonts finally arrived at the detsky dom, Svetlana was sleeping. Lisa had to talk the caretaker into letting them take a peek.
Svetlana's eyes were open, so they picked her up, cuddled her and began calling her Danica. They visited her daily and noticed that she rocked all the time. All the babies were doing that. Some even banged their heads on the cribs. Lisa was concerned. The adoption coordinator told her the rocking stops in time. While still in Russia, the Vermonts watch Danica take her first steps. She was not quite a year old.
Then there was a long court session conducted in Russian; the translator made sure the Vermonts answered questions in the appropriate manner. They were warned that they are not to look for their baby's biological mother. The adoption would be terminated if they did.
The director of the detsky dom told the judge there'd been an outbreak of chicken pox at the home and recommended the Vermonts take Danica immediately rather than wait the usual 10 days. The judge was hesitant but agreed.
Danica slept and cuddled and played quietly on the flight to Moscow, where they officially changed her birth certificate and got her visa at the American embassy. At the embassy in Moscow the two couples were in the company of about 50 other Americans adopting children.
The Hillens' young son, on the other hand, was a handful. "He was completely overwhelmed," Ann Hillen says. She doesn't think he'd ever been outside of the detsky dom. He was even fascinated with the sky.
Just recently, the Vermonts and the Hillens shared their adoption stories at a Domoi meeting. Danica is a tall, beautiful, healthy little 2-year-old. She has bonded easily with the Vermonts. "Jay and Ryan are crazy about her," Lisa says. "She is one of us now."
While 3-year-old Scott Hillen is tossing a stuffed animal in the air, and enjoying the attention, Ann and Peter Hillen share their feelings of joy about having him. He is a bright, healthy boy.
The Hillens share the details of their journey to Russia. They also share the struggles they had with Scott's attachment problems. "The term RAD is worse than the experience," Peter says.
At first Scott couldn't stand to be held; he wouldn't look at them or let them cuddle him and didn't know how to hold hands. With the guidance of a specialist (they'd actually lined someone up before they went to Russia) the Hillens learned how to work with Scott.
Ann says, "One day [after almost a year] Scott put his arms out for a hug and said 'I have a good mommy." Scott's RAD has gone into remission, explains Ann. "I respect this as a survival skill he learned in the orphanage. It got him through so much."
Saratogan Rhoda Goldstone is Danica's grandmother. At the Domoi meeting she hoisted Danica up into her arms and introduced her. "This is my granddaughter," she said, with a broad smile. In fact, Goldstone has become a volunteer for Domoi Foundation and is passionate about finding homes for children like Danica.
Support resources: Domoi Foundation 650.969.1980 (email: domoi@ix.netcom.com). Families of Russian and Ukrainian Adoption (FRUA) 415.341.1596 (web page: www.frua.org). FRUA has just completed a book of some 90 resources.
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