Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

Today's guest writer: Renee

Well, we had great intentions today of visiting the Kremlin. Got up, showered, dressed, read about the sites, got out the door ... and well the snow and Larry's ankle pain led us to revisit our plan. Instead, we hit a bookstore to feed my Harry Potter fix (re-reading the series). Hopefully I will get book 5 read before Monday, as I guess I will have to wait for books 6 & 7 for when Syevinch hits puberty. And, as a lame attempt at bringing Russian culture home with us (and since we won't now see the Kremlin), we bought a tourist book version of it. We then had our coffee fix at the cafe chain Shokoladnitsa and looked at the images of the Kremlin from a really warm and toasty place. Did I mention the art and jewels look an awful lot like the treasures in St. Petersburg?? (I know, really lame excuse). (See pic of Larry in his favorite Moscow spot: Shokoladnitsa.)

Then we started our holiday shopping and souvenir buying by going back to Arbat Street. I think we had the word "tourist" written on our foreheads as we left with way fewer Rubles than when we started. (There is a fine line between overpriced souvenir junk and way way overpriced hand-carved and hand-painted artisan crafts. We tried to find the balance somewhere in between.)

We then went back to the supermarket to restock a few items in preparation for next week (i.e., our first week of parenthood)!! Did I mention that our true mission for the day was to find more Cheerios? It is the only snack Syevinch will eat and I was just fearing the plane ride home sans Cheerios. Well, we found a knock off and will do the true test when we bring a few of them to the orphanage tomorrow. We trudged our way back through the snow carrying arm fulls of bags when we came back to the palace. Our cleaning lady was here, we tried to communicate a bit, scheduled our last cleaning and found that she had set up the crib for us!!
Have I said recently how this is getting really real. And can I say... the crib is also a rocker... how cute is that!!!

By the way, plan B (if the fake Cheerios don't work), is for Lare and I to go to an exorbitantly overpriced brunch buffet at the Marriott and stuff our pockets with Cheerios. (Thanks to Melissa for the idea!!!) Apparently the Marriott serves many, many adoptive families and has a plentiful supply of Cheerios on hand (gotta do what you gotta do!).

Anyway, I thought you might like to see a few shots from our day today (the one in red is not Larry). The photos from our visit yesterday weren't fabulous. Syevinch was really tired and there were more tears than smiles. We were able to get a photo of a few of her caregivers though, and I know in years to come she will appreciate having these images.

Just two more days of trekking out to the orphanage! Yippee! (You have no idea!) And, yes, we are doing the countdown till we come home.

All our best,

Renee (and Larry)

P.S. We still love hearing from you — it makes home feel a lot closer than halfway across the globe.

Winter Wonderland

It's 4:41 Thursday morning, Moscow time. I had every intention of writing this blog posting about eight hours ago, but my body gave out eight and a half hours ago and Renee and I both wound up falling asleep as we discussed what to do about dinner. (The lack of consciousness dictated the menu of cold cereal and hot tea when I awoke around 2:00 a.m.)

So we're back from our little jaunt to the coast — the Baltic coast, that is. St. Petersburg was great — a gorgeous city in the style of Western Europe and well preserved given that it recently celebrated its 300th birthday (a baby next to Moscow's 1000-year history). The core of the city was condensed enough to motivate us to walk everywhere, but expansive enough to provide a sense of awe. And while Renee and I both appreciated the opportunity to get some much-needed exercise, I did something to my Achilles tendon our last night in St. Petersburg that continues to hurt — not ideal for our current walking-intensive lifestyle, particularly through the ice and snow.

We took quite a few photos of St. Petersburg, both walking around the city the three days we were there, as well as a considerable number of photos inside the Hermitage — one of Russia's premier art museums. Rather than subject you to them here, I am working at creating a photo gallery on Flickr.com, which I will include a link to once it's available. (This preview is of Renee in front of the Pushkin Theatre just beneath the statue of Empress Catherine.)

In the meantime, however, here's a view of the spire of the Saints Peter & Paul Cathedral located within the aptly named Peter & Paul Fortress. The fort is across the Neva River from the heart of St. Petersburg, which was nearly completely frozen over when we visited. The ice had been broken up by shipping traffic and refrozen so that it was ultimately composed of sheets of ice as large and as thick as doors jutting up from the river at random angles. It was also snowing pretty steadily, so everything was dusted white, adding to the Arctic effect.

While it was wonderful to get away from the drudgery of apartment living in Moscow, we missed our time (however limited) with Syevinch and were concerned that interruption of our consistent daily visits might affect the bonding process. This was not to be the case, however, and is mentioned below in further detail.

We spent quite a bit of time just walking the city to take in the surroundings and sights. Unfortunately, however, the first morning and much of the third and final day were consumed by killing time. Because hotel check-in was 2:00 p.m. and our train arrived at 8:00 a.m., we spent much of the first morning sitting in cafes (granted, I could think of much worse things than drinking coffee in a European cafe!) and wandering the streets around the hotel in a frozen delirium. The final day had the reverse effect in that hotel check-out was noon — a full 12 hours before our train departed for Moscow. Fortunately, we were able to store our luggage at the hotel until much later that evening, but it still meant that we were homeless for the day, wandering at the whim of the travel gods.

[I know that Renee will ask me to edit this posting after-the-fact if I don't also mention such things as our amazingly overpriced taxi ride the morning of our arrival (he quoted me 35 Euro for the 8-block drive from the train station to our hotel, which I mistakenly heard as 35 Rubles — a difference of about $40); of our eerie dining experience Tuesday evening in an expansive, two-story Russian/Chinese restaurant in which we were the only two patrons (the food was surprisingly good); or of our multiple book-buying excursions in which she found an English version of Harry Potter 4 (she finished book 3 far too quickly earlier in the trip), I bought Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment in the city in which it was set, and together we bought six or seven Russian picture books in support of our intentions to provide a cultural link to Syevinch's place of birth.]

All in all, it was a wonderful three days and was a great break from our Moscow routine. We were also delighted to discover that the train ride "home" Tuesday evening officially marked the halfway point in our extended Russian adventure. And now, a day later, the tally is: 11 days down, 9 to go (not counting the two full days of travel serving as bookends to this life-altering journey).

Upon arriving in Moscow first thing Wednesday morning, we were delighted to be greeted by Vlad, our primary guide to all things Moscow, who saved us the trouble and expense (and potential hilarity of ensuing communication difficulties) of hiring a taxi for the 20-minute ride across town. We also got the opportunity to talk through with him the schedule of events for the remaining week or so of our stay.

The good news: We will take physical custody of Syevinch next Monday, December 3 (the day after Russia's controversial national elections), two full days earlier than we were initially led to believe! (This is not meant to imply that there is bad news associated with this announcement, but there is now a countdown to when our lives will forever be changed — a concept difficult to fully grasp from this side of parenthood.)

The schedule for next week is therefore as follows:

Monday, 12/3:
• Visit the vital statistics office and apply for Syevinch's Russian passport.
• Go shopping (with Vlad) for all the basic necessities: diapers, baby food, etc.
• Return to the orphanage (for the last time) and bring our baby home.

Tuesday, 12/4:
• Figure out how to be a parent (one day should be enough time...)

Wednesday, 12/5:
• Take Syevinch to the medical clinic for a physical exam.

Thursday, 12/6:
• Visit the U.S. embassy (next door) to obtain Syevinch's U.S. visa.

Friday, 12/7:
• Panic.

Saturday, 12/8:
• Head home!

This leaves us the next four days (Thursday–Sunday) for our daily ritual of traversing the city by foot and metro to visit Syevinch at the orphanage. While it had begun snowing in St. Petersburg on Monday, Moscow didn't get it until yesterday (Wednesday). The snow is expected to continue here through the weekend, so our walks will be just a bit whiter, wetter, and slower, but will help prepare us for the coming holidays. (Renee has already taken to singing "Winter Wonderland" as we traipse through the bleak urban landscape of northwestern Moscow on our daily orphanage trek.)

Yesterday's visit (our first since being away for three days) was nice. Syevinch again reached out for Renee when we first poked our head in the door of "Gruppa 8" (her co-ed living quarters) and cried when we returned her to the caregivers for her nap. We continue to search for appropriate and effective distraction strategies in preparation for the plane ride home and have discovered that, regardless of a toy's degree of initial captivation, Syevinch seems to find the greatest amusement in throwing it on the floor. I'm hoping that this pattern doesn't continue through feeding time, as that could get old really quickly. This photo shows Syevinch having great fun with one of her favorite new toys, just prior to launching it.

We are still hoping to make the most of our free time and plan to return to the Kremlin on Friday or Saturday for the full tour, and although the Bolshoi Theatre was sold out for the entire duration of our stay, I'm still hopeful that we might be able to snag a couple of tickets to one of the ballets later this weekend. We're also hoping that Sunday's elections here don't disrupt the status quo to the point that our routine is affected. It may prove interesting to be at the center of this internationally observed event, but I'd feel better if it remains the uneventful event that it is projected to be.

Well, this took a lot longer to piece together than I had anticipated and I will be hard pressed to get another few hours of sleep before preparing for a limping return to Syevinch later this morning.

Until next time,
Larry & Renee

St. Pete

Hello from St. Petersburg!

Just a quick message to explain that our absence the last several days is due to the lack of internet access from our hotel in St. Petersburg. It's been just as chilly as Moscow (if not more so) and we got snowed on in our walking tour on Monday. But it's a beautiful place and well worth the trip.

We're headed back to Moscow on the midnight train and will send a more formal update (with photos) later Wednesday.

Thanks for checking in. More soon....

Larry & Renee

Out and About

Just a brief message today as we pack and prepare for the midnight train to St. Petersburg:

Still cold. Still pink. Still foreign.
Still traveling by metro. Still fascinated by stiletto heels in the snow.
Still jet-lagged. Still enjoying receiving your messages. Still waiting to bring Syevinch home.

The less-abbreviated version:

On Friday, we again braved the wind chill and the subway to visit Syevinch. The route through the suburbs of Moscow is now quite familiar and we no longer need to pay attention to our original markers: cross the street at the "StarDogs" vending cart (ask Renee what she thinks of this); turn left at the construction site; right when you see the three smokestacks of the power plant; and left again where they're tearing up the street. In fact, the most challenging part of our trek to the orphanage now is avoiding the snapping doors of the carnivorous elevator in our apartment building.

We had another nice visit with Syevinch, more laughs, fewer tears. She is still quite reluctant to have me hold her, but she's engaging more than before. She melted down a bit in the last 15-20 minutes of our visit and we had difficulty determining what was happening for her. Renee believes that she's teething, but having had a finger caught in her mouth, I know she's pretty, darned teethed! We also see her just before her afternoon nap, so it may be that our timing overlaps just a bit too closely with when she'd prefer to be back in her crib. Regardless, it was a nice time overall and we were sad to return her to her caregivers when we left an hour-and-a-half later.

After returning to our neighborhood, we hoofed it down to the closest (at least as far as we know) supermarket for a restocking of our little kitchen, including the missing necessities, such as instant coffee (a necessary evil), olive oil, rice, and cookies (an unnecessary blessing). After returning home, we napped for just a bit before heading out to search for an Indian restaurant, Tandoor, which we had seen advertised in the guide book. It was a bit further away than I had thought, but relatively easy to find, and it was great to have some good, ol' American food—tikka masala and lamb saag.

Today, Saturday, was another early-afternoon visit to Syevinch, so after a slow start, we headed out on our quite-familiar route to the orphanage by foot and metro. It was warmer today — a solid 32° — but there was a threat of snow, so we still had to remain bundled.

The visit at the orphanage was a bit manic. Because it was a weekend, most of the workers were not at the orphanage, so our usual visitation room was all locked up, and we wound up sitting on the floor of a tiny, little waiting area sans toys, sans space, but also sans distractions. Syevinch, at first, was very happy to see us, and even reached out for Renee when we entered her room (a wonderful image). We had a good 45 minutes or so, but then she got fidgety and we couldn't figure out what she was needing, and at one point, she went into arched-back mode accompanied by tears and wailing. Of course, we were armed with the all-powerful Cheerios, which worked to bring her back to a less-volatile state. This worked two or three times before she became immune to them and we wound up taking her back to her room a few minutes early, as it was becoming increasingly clear that all she really needed was to start her nap early.

So now we're back in the apartment. After several hours' sleep, we're both now packed and killing time as we wait for our driver to pick us up and drive us across town to the train station. The train departs just before midnight, arriving in St. Petersburg at 8:00 a.m. We've got a hotel room booked, but will need to get our bearings and figure out the town before we can check in later that morning.

I'm not certain whether we will have internet access or not, so this may be the last posting for a bit. We'll be back on the midnight train Tuesday night in time for a visit Wednesday afternoon to our favorite, little Moscow orphanage.

Best wishes,
Larry & Renee

P.S. Now I've got Gladys Knight stuck in my head: "And I'm leaving ... on that midnight train to Moscow...." (Probably not the original lyrics.)

Our first couple days of parenthood

Today's guest writer: Renee

On Wednesday, we ventured out solo onto the streets of Moscow in an attempt to make it to the orphanage and back on our own. It's about a ten minute walk to the metro from our apartment, a 30 minute ride on metro and about a 25 -30 minute walk to the orphanage. The easy part is going to the orphanage on the metro, because it's the last stop on the line (you can't really mess this up), but the fear is missing the correct station on the way back... Luckily, we were able to count the correct number of stops and find our way back. Side note: we wish we could take video onto the metro just to show you all the people, the fashion, the fur coats and the 4" heels that people wear in the snow. Fascinating.

Enclosed are some photos from our walk. The majority of the walk from the Metro is surrounded by tall apartment buildings. It's all residential, really safe. Interesting to see the babushkas out and about and vendors (in little kiosks) selling beautiful fresh flowers and produce. It's great to people-watch en route. The orphanage is on the outskirts of town, so we walk parallel a stretch of birch woods for the last leg of the jaunt, before turning up the street that leads us to the orphanage.

The main thing to know is that the streets are really icy and since the temperatures have been hovering around freezing, it's easy for snow to melt, then freeze again as ice, which is quite dangerous. You know how people say "break a leg," well I'm trying really hard not to. Larry on the other hand... likes to slide on the ice for fun. I remind him we don't even know the word for 'hospital' in Russian!

When we arrived at the orphanage, we had a great visit with Syevinch. Few tears, lots of laughter, smiles, imitation, peek a boos, blowing raspberries and we got it all on video. Unfortunately, the cable that would allow us to show you the video is at home, so we will have to post them at a later time. Just know that we had a really wonderful visit and the video will have to follow. The still photos just can't capture what it feels like to hear little Syevinch laugh.

On our return to our neighborhood we found a wonderful cafe. It's called Shokoladnitsa ... think the movie Chocolat, but with coffees, blintzes, tiramisu and a lot more. We had a celebratory coffee and crepe (in lieu of champagne) to toast the new and official member of our family.

*****

Happy belated Thanksgiving!

The purpose of our visit to see Syevinch on Thursday was to take her out of the orphanage (for the first time in her memory) to get her passport photos taken. She did such a great job at having to leave what was known and safe to her. She just observed everything, took it all in. The hardest part was having to take off her snow suit at the passport photo place to get her pictures taken (then put back on again once done -- then back off again when we returned to the orphanage). This seemed to be the hardest part for us all. So many zippers and so many tears. All in all she coped really well, and we were able to have a short but sweet visit with her when we returned to the orphanage.

Last night we had great intention to find an American restaurant and have a traditional meal of turkey and stuffing, but jet lag kicked in. We napped around 4p.m., woke up in a delirious state after 7p.m. and opted for frozen pizza. Not quite the same thing, but my mom said she would give us an IOU and Sandy (Larry's mom) made us an early Thanksgiving dinner before we left town. We were very thankful just to have any food at that point without having to leave the apartment and go out into the cold.

A thankful Renee (and Larry), craving turkey and the trimmings. :-)

Off for another adventure on the Metro today!!

Giving Thanks

It's just after midnight in Moscow. Renee's gone to sleep and I sit here on the salmon-colored couch in the pink living room of our rented apartment listening to the traffic on the street below. In this solitude, it seems right to reflect on all that has happened through this long and challenging process.

As mentioned in previous postings, Renee and I decided back in the summer of 2005 to pursue adoption, and in July of that year, we signed a contract with an adoption agency to begin what was described as a 12- to 15-month process to adopt two little girls from Ukraine. In the 28 months since we signed those first forms, we've switched countries of focus (from Ukraine to Russia), worked with two separate adoption agencies, had every part of our lives scrutinized by officials in both Russia and the U.S., experienced the heights of hope and the depths of despair, and invested a considerable amount of time, money, and emotion into the dream of sharing our lives with a little one. While it is easy to recite this as a list of grievances, I am actually experiencing it now as a prayer of thanks. For in the end, every hurdle, every roadblock, every dead-end has simply been a roadmap that has led us to Syevinch. And as of 11:45 p.m. (California time) on Monday, November 19, according to the government of the Russian Federation, Renee and I are officially the very grateful parents of this little angel.

Our anxieties about the court appearance were understandable, but unnecessary. We arrived at the courthouse around 9:15 Tuesday morning for our 10:00 hearing. Due to errors of communication, the orphanage director had not been informed of the court appointment, so our driver had to drop us off at the courthouse, then drive to pick her up at a distant metro station, as the hearing required her testimony. We were told to wait in the lobby of this grand and foreign building for either Vlad (the driver) to return or for Masha, our translator, to meet us. So we sat ... 9:20 ... and sat ... 9:30 ... and got anxious ... 9:40 ... and stressed.... Finally, at about 9:50, Masha rushed in and escorted us to the sixth floor, breathlessly reciting the list of questions we would likely be asked and educating us on the formal process of the justice system — when to say yes, when to say no, when to stand up, when to sit down. (This description makes it sound preschoolish in nature, but it proved to be very, very helpful in relieving some of the anxiety.)

On the sixth floor, we again had to wait. 10:00 came and went. Masha tried to put us at ease by explaining that the court hearing is more of a legal necessity than a situation in which we would ever expect to be denied custody. But given that the judgment was entirely outside our control, the anxiety remained. This lack of control was further emphasized by our introduction to the social worker who would speak on behalf of the social welfare system to recommend for or against the adoption (we didn't know which). Twice, while we were waiting, the court secretary came out to see if we were ready, but since the hearing could not begin without all parties present, we had to wait for Vlad and the orphanage director to arrive.

At 10:10, Vlad and the director showed up, and yet we still waited ... 10:20 ... and waited ... before being called in to the courtroom at 10:25.

The space was fairly simple — what you might see on an episode of Law & Order, but on a smaller scale. We sat in the first of two or three rows of benches and stood as the judge entered — a professional, middle-aged woman, who looked all business — and recited our das and nyets as instructed, indicating that we understood the process and had no objections to the system. Masha sat next to us and translated everything that was spoken by the judge, the prosecutor, and the Russian witnesses (the social worker and orphanage director) through the next 20 minutes of the hearing.

While waiting, Renee and I agreed that I would take the brunt of the questioning, so following the formalities, I took the stand — a podium in the center of the room, facing the judge — and with the help of Masha responded as best I could to the questions asked. The first several questions were straightforward: state your name, your birthdate, your employer and job title, your annual income, your date of marriage (fortunately, I've got the memory for dates and numbers — if Renee had been the one to answer this last question, we might be celebrating our 40th anniversary instead of our 4th). Then the questions became more open-ended: describe your home, why did you choose to adopt from Russia. Nothing too challenging and only about eight minutes in total.

Renee was then asked to approach, so we traded spots. She got many of the same initial questions, but then more questions about Syevinch specifically and our interest in her. We had read that there is still quite a bit of prejudice within Russia and were informed that we may experience some of it in regard to Syevinch's middle-Asian heritage. It did show itself subtly in a couple of questions and it was fascinating to feel my fatherly instincts kick in as I took some offense to this cultural phenomenon. Renee responded well to all of the questions and was asked to return to her seat after about four minutes.

The remainder of the hearing consisted of testimony by the orphanage director (we were surprised to learn that Syevinch had been shown to two Russian families prior to our first visit in September, but that they chose not to accept her for reasons unknown but assumed to be because of either her biracial heritage or her emotional nature) and by the social worker (she approved), before the prosecutor had her opportunity to speak (no objections). The judge then exited the courtroom for her deliberation (lasting maybe two minutes) and returned to state her judgment that Syevinch Rakhmonova Murmonova was officially ours.

The court hearing lasted 20 minutes, but took a year or two off our respective lifespans. The relief was palpable, but we did not have an opportunity to really savor the news together until later in the day. Following the hearing, Vlad drove us to the orphanage. Because of the respective locations of the courthouse and the orphanage on opposite extremes to the north of the city, the drive took over an hour. The timing, however, was nearly perfect in that Syevinch had just finished her lunch by the time we showed up.

We got about an hour and 15 minutes with her today, and despite the initial tears (much less emphatic and of shorter duration), we had a very nice visit. We sat on the floor in a small outer office with Syevinch in Renee's lap. Several caregivers would enter and exit through this small space, each time causing Syevinch to be distracted, and initially, to cry and reach out for the "babas" (babushkas), with whom she was familiar. But we grew more comfortable with each other sitting on the floor in our semi-formal court attire, munching Cheerios, playing peek-a-boo, and getting some legitimate smiles and even a couple of laughs as she and I imitated each other with our hand gestures. I believe that this is when it clicked for both Renee and me that our years-long efforts and the morning's anxiety meant that the three of us were finally a family.

The photos today were rather scant, as I was much more focused on maintaining the bonding that seemed so accessible. But I think you can see from her expressions that we've reached and possibly surpassed the level of connection that we had achieved after five days on our last trip.

We will visit her again on Wednesday, and again on Thursday when we will take her outside the orphanage for those passport photos that we had initially thought might happen today. Then I think that Renee and I are, in fact, going to celebrate the culmination of our efforts by traveling to St. Petersburg for a few days. We plan to be back early next week to continue our daily visits and continued bonding, in the hope that the flight home on December 8 might be more smiles than tears.

When we first learned that we would be away from home over Thanksgiving, I was mildly disappointed, as there are so many traditions surrounding this tranquil holiday. But I think for maybe the first time in my life, I understand the deeper significance of the day and what it is to be truly grateful.

In thanks for you and for her,
Larry & Renee

Chilly with Afternoon Warming

We made it to Moscow, arriving very late Sunday night. It's now after midnight on Tuesday morning here and I'm trying to stay awake long enough to provide our first day's update.

While recognizing that Syevinch is at the center of this adventure, the first thought that struck us while loading our bags into our driver's car at the Moscow airport after midnight Monday morning was not about finally getting to see her again (although it placed a close second and has since regained its initial lead), but about how flipping cold it was. We came prepared for cold, but nothing shakes up your sense of your surroundings like extreme temperatures. Renee and I both may need to buy warmer clothes here (despite our best efforts to "pack warmly") and I may have to give in and wear a hat.

Because of jet lag and lack of much sleep on the flights here, we were pretty exhausted when we finally arrived at our apartment (affectionately referred to as the "Pink Palace"). Yes, the place is pretty pink, which can be tolerated. What they don't mention in the ad for the rental, however, is that it overlooks one of the busiest streets in Moscow, so we have a pretty steady flow of traffic nine stories below us around the clock. (Three weeks ... it's only three weeks....) [Photo at right is the view from our kitchen window at 10:00 p.m.]

After sleeping until noon (or 1:00 a.m. from our bodies' perspectives), we met our driver, Vlad, who chose the coldest day in the coming week to walk us through how to take the subway out to the orphanage, as this will be our primary method of transportation this trip. It was -15°C when we left home at 3:00 p.m., which translates to "damn cold" in Fahrenheit. The subway was no problem, taking only about 30 minutes to get to the end of the line, but it only got us to the general neighborhood — we then had to walk in the wind and snow for another 30 to get to the orphanage (and this was at Vlad's 6-foot-3 pacing — we'll have to add another 10-15 minutes when we slow down to a stride that works for us). Wind chill dropped the temperature to the "why-on-earth-am-I-outside?" range — but when we paused to remember the answer to that question, the cold wasn't so bad.

We spent about an hour and a half with Syevinch, who was absolutely horrified to see us again, howling and crying for a good solid 10 minutes. She finally warmed up once the Cheerios came out, and after that, she was much more content — allowing Renee to hold her and me to feed her. (Thank god for sensory memory and General Mills!) We experienced good signs of mental development as she imitated us shaking a toy to make sounds (thank you to whoever gave us the rattley-lion shown in the bottom photo). We eventually heard quite a few sounds from her as well, but the fact that they were in both Russian and "baby talk" pretty much ensured we had no clue what she was trying to communicate. All in all, it was a good visit. We were, understandably, upset to be greeted with such a pained and painful return, but thrilled that she was willing to let us enter back into her lives after seven weeks away.

After beginning the process of (re-)connecting with her for this brief visit, we recognized that it was getting dark outside and the temperature had already dropped significantly, and that it was time to head out. We took the metro back downtown, walked to the nearest English-speaking restaurant (Hard Rock Cafe), where we ate comfort food (cheeseburgers and fries). After that, we braved the cold once more (and even got a bit of light snow), hitting the Russian equivalent of a 7-Eleven for basic necessities on our way home. Needless to say we were thrilled to remove our layers and relax in the warmth of the Pink Palace.

Tomorrow is our court date. Not sure what to expect, as we've heard from people at both extremes telling us either how easy or how traumatic it will be. I'm hoping that the fact that our translator from the last trip, Masha, will appear with us, so if we happen to say anything stupid, it may get translated to a more appropriate response before reaching the judge.

We may also do passport photos with Syevinch in the morning, which will be an interesting exercise (taking her outside the orphanage grounds for the first time and being totally without caregiver support). We shall see how she does — more importantly, we'll see how we do.

I'll write more as we have time and news.

With love,
Larry & Renee

P.S. I will blame delirium for the lack of photos posted here initially. Sorry for the delay.

Facing East

It's been three weeks since my last posting. In that time, Renee and I encountered another couple of speed bumps on our adoption adventure — not true road blocks, but enough of an impediment to slow down the process. Ultimately, though, we were grateful to learn that our final pending document was approved by the Department of Homeland Security and is, even now, wending its way through the federal bureaucracy to the U.S. embassy in Moscow.

The big news, though, is that today is departure day. We leave on United flight 926 at 6:45 Saturday evening heading back to Russia and Genevieve (a.k.a. Syevinch). After a brief layover in Frankfurt, Germany, we arrive in Moscow just before midnight Sunday night. Weather reports indicate that Sunday will be the coldest day in the coming week with a high of 19° (although it'll be closer to the low of 9° that late at night). We are, however, grateful that the snow is expected to let up for our arrival. So when I ask you to send warm thoughts, I will intend it in every sense of the word!

Monday is a bit of a free day, allowing us to settle in to our new apartment and either fend off or give in to jet lag resulting from the 11-hour time difference. Given the temperature, I suspect Monday will be a lazy day in our exceptionally pink high-rise. (I'm already resolved to the expectation that my dreams for the duration will consist of princesses, puppies, My Little Pony®, and other cute, pink-inspired things.)

After a lazy Monday, we have a very formal and intimidating Tuesday in court. We have been told that the court proceeding is a mere formality—one final step in the arduous task of adoption. Regardless, I'm still less than thrilled in preparing for the event. And while it is not the case that Genevieve's return home with us will hinge on providing just the right responses to the judge, it will be very difficult not to think in those terms in the moment.

Assuming all goes well in court, we are then faced with keeping ourselves preoccupied during the mandatory ten-day waiting period before we're allowed to take custody of little G. Our hope is that we will be able to visit her most days of those next two weeks, but the reality is that this will be at least partially determined by our ability to access transportation to the distant orphanage. We may also try to squeeze in a short visit to St. Petersburg by train — or rather, I will attempt to work on weakening Renee's resistance to the idea and then we may try to squeeze in a short visit.

Following the waiting period (and countless crossword puzzles, cribbage games, and mindless episodes of That '70s Show in Russian), we will be granted formal custody of our daughter, magically turning Renee into a mama and me into a papa without the discomfort of childbirth and HMO forms. (I will refrain from comparing our 28-month wait to pregnancy but reserve the right to debate this point in future postings.)

With this overnight change of status, we must also learn how to react and respond to a 16-month-old living, breathing little human being and allow her to acclimate to us. They say experience is the best teacher, but I suspect "they" never sat in a pink apartment in subarctic climates with a tearful toddler. Seriously, I fully expect instinct to kick in, and while it may be challenging, frustrating, and heartbreaking, I know that it will be the most wonderful thing for each one of the three of us.

I will continue to keep you posted on this next exciting phase of our little adventure. Please keep an eye out for updates and please feel free to write back to us or post your comments directly to the blog site, as I know that sending and receiving e-mail will undoubtedly be one of the more rewarding distractions in our period of patience.

And don't forget those warm thoughts....

Much love,
Larry & Renee

P.S. For anyone keeping up with the earlier postings, I did succeed in steam-cleaning the carpets, but I neglected to get photos. I will, however, be sure to get video of reseeding the lawn when that happens and make it available on this site.