September 23, 2002

Today we decided to keep our morning visit short so that Evan could catch up on his sleep. When we went to pick him up from his group, though, we discovered that he'd had to be woken up from his nap in order to get him ready for us. And sure enough, for the hour that we spend with him, he was grumpy and unhappy, and not shy about telling us about it. It seemed that nothing was going to make him happy, especially since we'd run out of apple juice the day before and not had a chance to get more yet. Water just didn't interest him at all! Cookies were still ok, but only when they kept coming. When we wouldn't give him another one, he threw a fit and wouldn't be calmed down even when we held him and walked and bounced, rocked, held him way up in the air, or swung him upside down. (Swinging him upside down did turn his cries into giggles, but only for a moment or two. As soon as he was upright again, he remembered that he wasn't happy, and started back up.)

We took him back to his group shortly, making sure that his caregivers knew that he needed more rest. The other kids in his group were up and eating snacks, though, so we weren't certain that he'd get another nap.

When we returned to the waiting area outside the director's office, Inna had a short form for us to sign. It indicated that we wanted to adopt Dimitriy and requested that the paperwork be started. We weren't sure who the form was for, but we signed away, anxious to get the process started. Inna told us that if everything went very well, we might have a court date as early as Friday. It would require a lot of people to do their parts quickly, but it might happen.

After the morning visit to the orphanage, we went to another Internet cafe, checked our email, and sent the text from this website and a few more photos. We'd mostly given up on uploading the website itself--at least while in Ukraine--but we were thrilled to hear people's responses to seeing the first set of photos that we'd sent. Not everyone was able to decode them (due perhaps to the system we used to send them, and perhaps to the email programs they used to read their email), but it looked like most people had eventually gotten to see them. We also received a message from the adoptive pediatrics specialist in Chicago, with a bunch of things to check out about Evan to make sure he was as healthy as possible. We were pretty happy with most of the answers we could give to his questions. Yes, Evan did exhibit "stranger shyness", indicating that he was easily able to distinguish between people he knew and people he didn't know. Yes, he definitely did engage with objects, toys, people, etc. Yes, he did make eye contact and responded to facial expressions. Yes, he was starting to recognize us. No, he wasn't showing any obvious signs of fetal alcohol syndrome. Yes, he was severely underweight, but we had expected that all along: no surprises here. (Other families have encountered the same thing, and reported rapid growth once the child is brought to the U.S..)

After the Internet cafe, Inna and our driver took us to one of Donetsk's Orthodox churches. (We'd asked the previous day for some sightseeing, since we were feeling pretty cooped up. Inna had strictly told us not to go anywhere without her or our hosts/hostesses.) The church we visited was dedicated to St. Nicolas, who was known for his service to children. (Yes, it's that St. Nicolas!) There was recent construction still going on, expanding the church on the sides and front. At the particular time we visited, many older women were busy polishing the gold candle holders and other ornamentation around the church. It looked like a "fall cleaning" day. We were impressed by the number of icons on the walls, completely lining the back wall of the sanctuary/nave, and most of the side walls.  When one of the clerics appeared to talk to the woman working at the small sales desk (where a variety of books, icons, and religious jewelry were being sold), we asked permission to take a few photographs, and were told that it was ok. Kristin lit a candle for Evan, and we returned to our van.

Next, we visited a chocolate factory. More truthfully, we visited the chocolate shop that was presumably attached to the chocolate factory, as we didn't actually see anything that looked like a chocolate factory. Inna had simply told us that it was a chocolate factory, and we trusted her. (Ok, maybe we didn't, but who really cares? They had serious chocolate!) We had a great time looking over the wonderful creations on display, and we purchased a fairly large quantity to be used as gifts for people who'd been helpful to us on the trip and for family and friends back home. We also purchased a rather large bouquet of candied fruit and molded chocolate in the shapes of flowers and leaves, which we planned to present to the orphanage on our last day there, when adopting parents are permitted to have a small celebration with the orphanage director, doctors, nurses, and those who've helped us, like our translator and driver. Inna was surprised that we liked dark chocolate, since Americans have such a reputation for liking milk chocolate. We assured her that our tastes were more cultured than most Americans'.

On the way back to the apartment, we returned the to nearby market and bought a large carton of apple juice for Evan. We arrived back at the apartment in time for Galena to serve us another huge lunch: this time including borsch, some spiced grilled chicken and rice, vegetable garnishes (red peppers, tomatoes, cucumber, herbs), bread and butter, fruit, coffee and tea, cookies, and a large bar of chocolate. (Inna must have mentioned to Galena yesterday that we were going to the chocolate factory.) Before we began to eat, Galena told us in no uncertain terms (in fractured English and gestures) that we were not to do the dishes: she would take care of that. (We'd done the dishes that morning after breakfast when she'd stepped out briefly.)

After a couple hours of rest, Inna picked us up again and we returned to the orphanage. This time, we asked if we could take Evan for a walk around the orphanage grounds. The upstairs room was loosing its novelty for both Evan and us, and it was a beautiful day. Plus, we wanted to test out our Baby Bjorn to see how it would hold up later in the trip. We met Evan in the rooms where his group stayed, and Inna showed us the places where we were permitted to walk within the orphanage's gates. Lee thought that the Baby Bjorn worked very well--comfortable, convenient, and not very tiring. Kristin wasn't so sure. We hoped that with some readjustments, we could make it work better for her. Evan seemed to enjoy the walk outside. Inna told us that he hadn't been outside many times since coming to the orphanage, so it was really a new experience for him. He watched everything in rapt attention--face very serious, but following everything around him. After one or two circuits of the short path we were allowed to take, he began to chat with us--baby talk, of course, but apparently quite intentful. We got a few smiles out of him, especially when we let him feel leaves, branches, chestnuts and chestnut casings (with sharp spines on the outside, like WWII mines!). He also seemed to enjoy the floppy hat that we'd brought for him, even though it was a bit too big for him still. The stocking cap that his caregivers had put on him was much too hot for the warm, sunny weather. (Lower 70s, we think.)

After about an hour outside, we returned to his group area and traded in the outdoor clothes for an indoor suit and went back upstairs for snacks. He was still very intent about getting his cookies. (He got only two, but he could have eaten a whole box if we'd let him.) He especially enjoyed the apple juice that we'd bought earlier. We gave it to him in the sippy cup, and he was very intent on drinking every bit that he could. Unfortunately, Evan had no experience yet with sippy cups (they use regular cups in the orphanage), so he still needed a bit of help from Mom and Dad, and he dribbled a lot of it out of his mouth when he couldn't drink it quite fast enough. (We'd forgotten to bring the no-spill seals for the cup, so it was in "spout" mode.) He wore his plastic bib with great patience, though, so he escaped the worst of the damage. He was terribly anxious to hold the cup himself, but it was a lot bigger than he was used to, and he tended to manage the "tip" part a lot better than the "get it in his mouth" part, resulting in much spilling if Mom or Dad wasn't there to catch it.

Evan was in much better spirits overall this afternoon. He'd clearly gotten much better sleep than the previous two days. Both Kristin and Lee commented on the way back to the apartment that it would be incredibly frustrating if we had to wait until the weekend to take custody of Evan. Visiting at the orphanage was nice enough, but not at all like actually having him in our care. We weren't allowed to change his daipers, feed him real food, put him down for his nap, change his clothes, bathe him, be with him when he goes to sleep at night, or any of the other many things that will give us the sense of really being his parents. It still felt for both of us that we were "just visiting", and we both had the sense that when we returned home, everything would go back to being the way it was. We were ready to be parents! It couldn't happen fast enough for us at that point. Kristin, especially, was feeling cooped up in the apartment and orphanage. Not being allowed to go out--even for a walk around the neighborhood, was really grating on her. If this kept up for long, we thought we might have to stage an "escape" for ourselves and just let Inna and Galena be angry with us.