Misha Smiled

2:00 pm was slow in coming on Monday. Still trying to get on schedule, I woke up at 5 am ready to start the day. Put myself through a workout in the dark in the room to prepare myself for the cold shower (The city provides all the hot water to all the buildings. No building has its own hot water supply. For this week, they are doing repairs and maintenance on their systems so there is no hot water anywhere). Needless to say, if I wasn’t fully awake before my shower, I was afterwards. Another luxury I have taken for granted, but never again. Breakfast in the hotel is always an experience. We kind of recognize what’s edible at the buffet now, and we are a little more daring. Slathering jam over everything makes it all taste like raspberry, so we’re usually good. I dig the drinkable yogurt, and I’m becoming quite the tea coniseur.

After much thumb twiddling, our drivers arrived for our trip to Sosnovoborsk, where the orphanage (Baby House #5) is located. This was also crunch time for court tomorrow. Notebooks flew out as Yelena spat out questions that the judge might ask, and our translator interpreted. We answered as best we could for rehearsal, and were told what to and what not to say. We all felt a little nauseated when we arrived, a healthy combination of nerves from the drive and the winding roads of Siberia. But we couldn’t wait to see the boys. The familiar booties over our shoes were a welcome sight. We knew the drill. The Franks caught sight of their little boy, Dmitry, as he was being led up the stairs to the meeting room. He was being led hand in hand with another child with a big yellow bow in her hair. I had to do a double take. Knowing how they dress the children here at the orphanage, I wasn’t taking for granted that it could have been Misha in the green dress and bow (thankfully it wasn’t). Up the stairs we went, nerves clicking away.

Misha was waiting for us in the room, sitting with a caretaker in a chair to the right of the door. Sara went in first and saw him. She went right to him, expecting and receiving the same response as before. She picked him up and placed him in her lap in the chair, holding him close as I got the video camera going (my usual job at the beginning). He settled down very quickly, but clung to Sara as the little monkey he was before. I approached him much quicker than before and was able to make physical contact after only a couple minutes. No holding though, let’s not be silly.

I left the room for a minute to use the restroom, and I was walking down the stairs I had a moment to contemplate and pray. Seeing him again and seeing the response the same as it was the last two times, I got discouraged. I started to wonder if this was going to be it. If this was the best we were going to hope for. I can’t remember what I prayed, but I just needed some clarity about how to proceed from here. And as I headed back up the stairs and into the room, thinking about Misha and some of the attachment books that I had read, it all came into perspective for me. The past two visits were spent trying to get him to do things, to play with things, to eat things. Both by us and by the orphanage workers. Trying to get him to perform for us. See what he does. But that’s not what it’s all about. We know that we love him. We know that we want him to be our son. All we need to do is start loving him. If that means holding him for two hours so that he can feel us, smell us, see us, get used to us, than that’s all we need to do…that’s all he needs to do.

So when I sat down with him again, I decided that it was just time to be myself, to be his dad. He doesn’t need to win my love. I need to love him. I sat on the floor near him and talked to him as Sara held him, touched his arm and his hands, showed him pictures of our last trip to meet him, looked him in the eyes. I’m here for you, and I will always be here for you. I’m not going to leave you, ever. I’m going to sit with you until the end of my days.

And that’s what we did for the next 30 minutes or so. And you should have seen the change. His face gradually relaxed. His body became less tense, more relaxed. As he stood in Sara’s arms while she sat on a low chair, he gradually relaxed into her arms. She decided to give him a little tickle, and we saw a little smirk. I told Sara, and she did it again. This time, a bigger smirk. Keep going, I said. Trying hard not to break his stoic countenance, he fought back a smile as Sara’s fingers dug into his ribs. But he was no match. The next thing we knew we saw a full-tooth smile break free, and it was as if his spirit came forth from behind a huge wall. It was cracking and crumbling. I told Sara to keep going. The wall was giving way. And then it happened. He broke free with a huge smile, and threw himself back into Sara’s embrace with complete relax and abandon. It brings tears to my eyes even as I write it.

Shortly after, I took him by the hand and we walked through the room filled with toys. He found a little pull-back car the Franks brought for their little boy, and it brought a huge smile to his face. Then the most amazing thing happened. The most miraculous change came over him, and for the first time we truly saw Misha. He started to talk to us! He ran to the window, pointing and saying something. We’re not sure what he was saying, but I picked him up and we pointed out the window together. Then he was moving quickly through the room, and we took turns launching the car back and forth to each other. Smiles and babbles.

No sooner had this all started, that his caretaker came in to take him back to his group. Our first response was “NO! Not now! We just got started!” But as he ran to his caretaker, he was all smiles. And as we said “Paca, Misha!”, he was smiling ear to ear. I knew at that moment that it was all going to be ok. If even for a few minutes, he finally got to be himself. He got to experience life in the arms of the loving family that would make him theirs. And he was happy. He was content. He was loved. If making Misha smile was the last thing I got to do on this earth, then death would greet me and find me smiling and content with my life…

JP