12/5/06 Embassy Day and “trying” to get Helena’s Visa

On Tuesday morning, Helena woke at 5 am and I used my cold as a legitimate excuse to stay in bed a while longer. Mike and his girl walked the halls of the hotel. Breakfast was not included in the room rate, and at $33 a person, we chose to pass and eat granola bars in the room. We also risked drinking the tap water since it cost $5 for a 1 litre bottle of water in the room. If you haven’t heard already, Moscow is THE most expensive city in the world. Our discounted standard room rate could easily have bought us an upgraded suite with breakfast included at the Ritz Carlton back in the states. At 8 am we went to get Helena’s physical, a requirement for her to leave the country. (I don’t know what they do if a child fails to pass, and fortunately we didn’t get to find out.) It was brief, and we did not need to repeat blood tests. The doctor declared her healthy, said she was teething and suggested we purchase a big shotgun to keep the boys away from her. I remarked that we had two older sons to protect her and he responded that they will sometimes be on dates themselves and she will need protection then. We went back to the hotel to rest for our 2 pm appointment at the American Embassy to get Helena’s visa.

I cried as I walked in the Embassy. Everyone spoke English and the lady that briefed all the parents in the adoption area had an American accent and a real Yankee way about her. It was great to see the other adoptive children with their new families. One family had two biological children with them, ages eight and nine, and had just adopted a brother and sister, ages three and four. What an inspiration! They had been together for only three days but behaved very much like a family. Basically our job there was to wait and wait and wait. Each family was interviewed briefly. We were told that there might be a delay and that we might not receive our Visa’s that day, which would delay our trip home. Apparently D.C. was experiencing some difficulty transmitting electronic files and this had caused delays for families over the previous few days. It was great visiting with the other families for the two hours we waited. Helena took (what seemed to us) her first steps alone, no doubt aided by the extra support in her sturdy red butterfly shoes. Of course we thought she was the cutest child there. At four o’clock the Yankee lady came out and announced that the electronic files had not yet come in and that we needed to leave. She hoped they would come in overnight or in the morning, but could not be sure. We were in serious jeopardy of not being approved to come home on Friday due to the requirement that we register with the consulate. It takes two days to register the child at the consulate and the visa must be completed to begin the registration process.

We came back to the hotel and had a wonderful evening playing with Helena. She really is the most marvelous little girl. It’s so fun to watch patterns of interaction develop between us. Mommy (me) is the sleep time nurturer, and she looks to me when she is hurt or disturbed. Daddy is the perpetual playmate. He taught her to cover her mouth after she coughs and say a serious of grunts to mimic “excuse me.” We already see her testing us. She is often grabbing for my earring, and when I say no, she laughs, looks me in the eye and tries again. We’ve developed several pet names for Helena, among them are stinky pants and Linka Lue, which is a derivative of the name “Lenitchka,” a name she was affectionately called at the orphanage. It’s hard to believe this little girl, that is as big as a sack of flour, may one day lead me around by the hand when I am blind, feeble or both. It’s harder still, as interactive and mobile as she is, to comprehend that she spent the first twelve months of her life in an orphanage with a poor ratio of care. It takes nearly 100% of two of us adults to care for her right now. We can hardly believe that 1/7th of a person cared for her up until last Saturday!