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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)
A few here on the forum know me. Most do not. This story is, slowly, being written.

My son turned 26 last month. He is our only son, adopted about age 7 from an orphanage in Russia. Pretty much the heart of Siberia.

The first time my wife put her hand on his shoulder, the touch confirmed what the eye could see. Later, seeing him with little clothes on, no picture of any starved POW would shock me. We are talking scary thin.

The orphanage informed us all his state issued orphanage clothes had to be returned. No problem, we brought all new clothes with us when the adoption was official. He shed everything, and got dressed. Nothing fit, all way too big.

Underwear slid off. Shirts fit like sacks. Went clothes shopping in Russia.

When the translator told him..."This is your mother and father", it was like a lightning bolt hit him. I am unsure that he got, the adopting part.

For a few months, he had an odd smell about him. It went away. It was replaced with the pleasant, after a bath smell you expect. The "clean kid" smell. It is what happens, I think. when severe malnutrition is experienced it changes your body chemistry, as the body tries to make up the lack of even minimal nutrition.

I think he did not like onions. He ate everything else. This is (was) a kid who tried everything three times. His friend, adopted a month before, lived close to us in the metro Phoenix area. He told me he was so hungry. He ate his own poop. He was 12 when he told me. Not ashamed, just matter of fact.

Fast forward, through a decade, and beyond. yes, we had issues. Plenty.

Notable moments. Age 11, bike ride with dad to the Palm Springs tramway with a fellow biker. I thought a picture I took, the most handsome boy I ever saw. That blonde hair, the mixed blue/green/ brown eyes looked different in every light. Blue this time, something different the next.

Eighth grade. Best year good grades. Happy.

Summer before high school. Enter useless, no account, drug dealer in rural neighborhood. I learned, much later, after the free drug samples to hook the fish, that I should have lured him to the desert, used the Super Redhawk, and deliver justice. He...was not the only one. This vermin trashed many.

I never went to prison. It would have been worth it.

Fast forward to 2020.

Things slowly coming together. I asked, a half dozen times, over the years, about finding a birth family, over the years. No interest. "Dad. You and mom are my family". I don't even know about anyone else." Left with the orphanage, a day after birth, it sends a message.

Two weeks ago, I asked again. The answer: "Yes. I have some questions I want to ask." Hired the same attorney we used to facilitate the adoption.

Fast forward to six am, December 23 Pacific time. Text message:

"Dad! I have three older sisters and a younger brother!

I can't believe it! :)"

Four hours later...

"Dad! I have two nephews in Russia. My sisters want to get together online after the first of the year!"

" Will you go with me to Russia next year?"

Absolute, pure joy, mixed with fearfulness, trepidation and related. To belief, these are full siblings. I guess when the iron curtain fell, and the Soviet Union crumbled, Russia was an economic mess. Just guessing, my son was an uncounted casualty, in the so called, cold war.

Birth mom is alive. No other mention of her. We do not know if his family in Russia even knew he even was.

No mention of dad.

I feel all of my son's absolute joy. The pain and trepidation. It is a strange cocktail. Filled with pleasant spirits, mixed with bitters, and answers and possibilities.

I will wrap it up, as I have droned on too long now.

I have seen pure, unadulterated joy, in my son's face, and his cousin. Both pleased with their post orthodontic adventures. And my son, on carnival rides in Russia. Beethoven's"Ode to Joy"? Seen it myself. Certainly, you folks have too. Pure. Unadulterated. Joy.

And Folks: A THIRD TIME FOR ME!? In one lifetime?!

My brother recovered from Covid. Finally got an irrigation well drilling project started. And now this?

My niece announced her engagement. About time! The family adores this guy. He talked guns to me, on our first encounter. I am thinking..." Keeper,"

James Stewart. Move on over. It was a nice story. A wonderful life? I await the next chapter, of something real.

Folks: Merry Christmas. I had mine!

May GOD Himself bless all of your comings, and goings, in these troubled times.
 

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I liked your story. Sometimes the steepest, bumpiest road takes us to the best place we could be. (y)

Hector
 

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God Bless you and family and Merry Christmas. My niece just adopted a baby boy , his mother abandoned him and father unknown. His grandparents love him but with heath issues unable to take care of hm. He's a cute little fella hope to meet him soon
 

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My father worked his career as the building manager / superintendent of an infant adoption agency near Chicago.

After the 1973 Roe vs. Wade verdict, the agency slowly lost access to out of wedlock birth children from the area, but they didn't close down - instead, they looked wider for the need and found more families to help serve.

First it was the unwanted disabled infants from the Illinois area. I will never forget my father bringing me to the infant nursery for his daily visits with a helpless severely disabled little boy. He had a name, John, and he had a life with those that cared for him and loved him. I don't think that boy ever was placed with a family.

Later, the Cradle Society started working with overseas governments to facilitate adoptions into the US. There were many families that wanted to adopt infant children, and few available in the United States by that time. There were difficult bureaucracies with abundant corruption to navigate - but they stuck with it. There was mutual distrust between many of these nations and the United States based on decades of conflict. Yet, as you know, there were children with great need in Russia, China, and other places in the world.

Adoption is the solution to support and endorse in order to stop the horrible plague of abortion in our society. You know the joys and pain of raising an adopted child. Your wonderful son does too. Many potential mothers need to give their unborn children that chance - and do so voluntarily and with the support of friends, family, government and private adoption agencies like the Cradle Society.
 

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Discussion Starter · #5 ·
Marc,

Amen.

Cooking breakfast.

There are no presents. No tree. No lights, this morning.

His glory, for me, infuses, occupies, illuminates, heals this place.

Folks. This ferrett fausci guy, grinch guy, he does not own us. Cancel Christmas?

Uhhhh, No.

The wood stove is lit. Its quiet heat warms.

Folks. Wherever you are in the world. Merry Christmas!
 

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Discussion Starter · #6 ·
Marc.

You are a person of...depth.

Let's get together. Sometime.



It has been a roller coaster the last few days.

My son wanted to share, after I asked. Then said: "Just family".

Much is yet to be discovered.

Me?

I am on a high. Then a low. But, I maintain, my best Christmas. Ever.

🙏
 
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