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Wendy and Mike Cummings lived to give
life.
When that was no longer possible, they went to the ends
of the Earth searching for it. Their quest for a family takes
surprising twists as hope turn to despair in the third of this
four-part series.
Numbness
overtakes Wendy Cummings when she sees the infant boy with his young
mother, standing behind her in the checkout aisle.
The baby
is about the right age -- 2 months old. So is his mother -- in her
mid-20s.
Wendy stops in her tracks.
"Is that our son?"
she thinks.
It was two months ago that she and her husband,
Mike, had their lifelong dreams to start a family crushed by a
25-year-old pregnant woman. The couple had turned to domestic
adoption after five years of infertility treatments that resulted in
their losing two sets of twins. Wendy was diagnosed with polycystic
ovarian syndrome, the leading cause of infertility in
women.
The girl, the older sister of one of Wendy's math
students in the Old Forge School District, had agreed the Scranton
couple would adopt her baby. For months before giving birth, she had
assured them she would go through with the adoption because she
could not afford to keep the baby and had no support from her
boyfriend, the baby's father.
Wendy and Mike did not learn
that she delivered a baby boy until two days after she had given
birth near the end of April 2001.
The girl told the couple's
adoption lawyer, Barbara Casey, that she changed her
mind.
Wendy later learned through friends that the girl never
intended to give her baby up for adoption. They suspected it was a
ploy to get back at her boyfriend, who she said did not visit or pay
child support for their first son.
The Cummings never met the
woman, having only talked to her and her mother over the
telephone.
Wendy caught a glimpse of the woman when she
picked up her sister after school. But in her mind, this baby and
young mother standing behind her could easily be them.
"The
pain is unbelievable," she tells Mike. "It's a death but we have
nothing to bury. I wonder if she thinks about what she did to
us."
Wendy starts to have nightmares, waking because she
hears a baby crying in the room that will be their nursery. Mother's
Day and Father's Day bring breakdowns.
"I think about the
twins we lost and now this baby," she says. "It breaks my
heart."
Mike reasons with her, but his heart breaks too not
just for the losses but for what his wife is going
through.
"We have to go on," he says. "We did everything we
could have done. It was out of our control. Maybe this is for the
best."
It had taught them to be more cautious -- with their
questions and their hearts -- and to look for early warning signs.
This girl had never filled out the adoption forms their lawyer sent
her. That was a red flag they did not consider earlier.
Mike
cancels their order for a crib. He puts away the car seat they had
just purchased, along with other items for the baby. It had all been
sitting in a room near the front door so they could grab it on their
way to the hospital to take the baby home.
Mrs. Casey e-mails
them more leads of birth mothers interested in adoption. The couple
also decides to advertise on their own.
A few leads sound
promising -- a 16-year-old in Ohio pregnant with twins; a pregnant
college student in Texas; a 34-year-old pregnant mother of five in
Arkansas; an eighth-grader in Texas.
They start to recognize
ones that seem questionable.
One girl seems only to care
about getting money.
A referral agency keeps sending them
leads, but they notice a pattern. The agency often relocates the
pregnant girls to Utah -- a state that has no restrictions on what
adopted parents can spend for the birth mother's
expenses.
Then there is the girl from Georgia who has been
pregnant 12 times and has six children all living with relatives or
friends. The Cummings learn from the woman's sister that she is also
addicted to painkillers.
They continue their quest for a
family.
They sign up with the Lackawanna County Children and
Youth Adoption Program. Wendy visits online chat rooms and message
boards for adopting parents. Mike advertises in more
newspapers.
Their babyline -- a toll-free number the couple
had set up for birth mothers to contact them -- rings
again.
"My heart jumps every time the phone rings," Wendy
says. "I'm more guarded now because of what happened. But you just
want to say to them, 'Pick us, pick us, pick us.'"
Wendy jots
down notes. They mail more profiles.
Sometimes there are
multiple phone calls with the same birth mother. Those are the ones
that get Wendy's hopes up the most.
Then the phone stops
ringing.
The waiting becomes tortuous.
They rarely get
to know the outcome and are left wondering. Did that one get our
profile? Did she choose another couple? Was she really
pregnant?
"It's a roller coaster," Mike says. "But I would
rather be on the roller coaster than not on the ride at
all."
Then comes an e-mail they can't ignore.
"For
$37,000, we could have a baby next week," Mike reads. "The birth
mother is in Oklahoma."
The price -- which includes medical
bills, maternity clothing, food and other pregnancy-related items --
is out of their league -- no matter how many ways they try to come
up with the money.
If we wanted to spend that much, we would
have done an international adoption, Mike reminds
Wendy.
"This is basically like selling a baby legally," Wendy
says to Mike. "But I can't stop thinking that this is a solid lead.
We can have a baby. You think with your head. I think with my
heart."
They try to remain positive when deep down they both
are feeling beat. It's already August. They are no closer to
adopting a baby then they were 10 months ago when they first met
with their adoption attorney.
The babyline rings. Hope creeps
back into their hearts.
"So you're due in six months," Wendy
repeats back to the Hispanic woman on the other end of the
receiver.
She grabs a pad of paper. Mike stretches across
their dining room table to try to read what she is
writing.
Wendy tells the woman about the torment the couple
has been through, from unsuccessful infertility treatments to the
young woman who strung them along.
"She sounded nervous,"
Wendy tells Mike after saying goodbye to the woman. "But she said I
was the easiest person to talk to so far."
The woman, who is
from Texas, lives with her family and has other children. They
cannot afford another baby. Her mother does not know she's pregnant
again.
Wendy and Mike mail her a profile. She calls them when
she receives it and then regularly after that. She wants to know if
the Cummings will come to Texas for a visit before she gives birth.
She is excited to meet them. She asks questions about their
parenting plans. She promised to send them a copy of her pregnancy
test and to get prenatal care.
Wendy believes she is sincere.
Mike remains cautious.
"She's not due until six months," he
says. "Anything can happen in six months."
The next two
months seem to fly by. Wendy can hardly believe it is already Oct.
12 -- their 10-year anniversary.
Mike has big plans. He will
surprise Wendy with a tanzanite ring. He noticed her admiring the
purplish stone a while ago. So, he had a tanzanite ring custom made
for her. While Wendy was in the shower, he scanned images of her
wedding rings onto their computer so the jeweler could determine the
correct size.
"You mean the most to me," he says when he
gives her the ring that night.
She cries.
Most couples
would feel the stress and tension pulling them apart after years of
heartbreaking losses and daily struggles just to go on. The
Cummings' love grows deeper.
A little more than a week after
their anniversary, they decide to attend a seminar on international
adoptions being held at a Wilkes-Barre hotel. They had already been
to a similar meeting in January and decided they had no interest in
adopting overseas. And now they have the woman in Texas. She is
their best hope. But, they figure the evening might be worthwhile to
do some more networking with other area couples who had adopted,
just in case.
Nearly a dozen people sit at tables in the
hotel conference room listening to a presentation by representatives
of Lutheran Children and Family Services of Eastern Pennsylvania, a
nonprofit, licensed adoption agency out of Rosyln, near
Philadelphia.
Wendy glances at a display in the front of the
room. There are photographs of children and babies up for adoption
in countries like Cambodia, Guatemala, Kazakhstan and
China.
Kelli Myers-Gottemoller, a supervisor with the agency,
explains the steps to adopt internationally. Couples -- and in some
countries, single parents -- fill out the agency's adoption
application. Then they take a parenting preparatory training class,
which she runs. They must have a home study done and apply for
Immigration and Naturalization Service approval to adopt
internationally. Then the agency matches them with a baby or child
and the couple travels to pick up their new addition.
Wendy
takes notes.
When Mrs. Myers-Gottemoller says the costs for
international adoptions with her agency range from $18,000 to
$28,000, Mike flips through a packet of information on the table to
read more about the fees.
She also reviews the restrictions
and time frames in various countries.
"We just adopted in
August from Cambodia," she tells the group. "It was very
fast."
Her baby was just 3 months old.
Wendy puts down
her pen.
Her main reason for not considering international
adoption was because she had read that the infants are as old as 12
months by the time they are adopted. She was worried that at that
age, precious mother-child bonding time had passed.
But 3
months is not bad, she thinks.
The back door in the
conference room opens.
Five couples and their children walk
to the front of the room. They talk to the group about their
international adoption experiences.
Mike's eyes are glued to
a spitfire little girl wearing a floral sundress and matching hat.
She was adopted from Cambodia.
"She's beautiful," he says to
Wendy.
Each couple talks about how long it took to get their
child and the regulations in the countries from which they adopted.
Ukraine took about a year to do, one couple says. Russia required
two trips, another couple adds. And another says in less than five
months they were able to adopt their 10-week-old daughter from
Cambodia.
As a second couple describes their good experience
adopting in Cambodia, the look on Wendy's face gives away her
thoughts. Mike's face has the same hopeful expression.
They
are sold. They will adopt from Cambodia.
Looking closer at
the couple, Wendy recognizes them. They sat in front of the Cummings
at that January meeting on international adoptions.
"That
could have been us," Wendy would later tell Mike.
After the
meeting, the Cummings talk with Mrs. Myers-Gottemoller and the
couples who had adopted from the Third World country in southeast
Asia. They share their painful journey that led them to this
meeting. They listen closely to the explanations on how adopting
from Cambodia works.
"If you filled out your application
right away and get your INS approval, you would probably be going to
Cambodia in February," Mrs. Myers-Gottemoller tells
them.
When the Cummings get home that night, they start the
paperwork. They begin to have doubts about the woman in Texas. She
still hadn't sent them documentation that she is
pregnant.
They decide to play it by ear with her and put
their faith in adopting from Cambodia. If the woman did give birth
and still wanted them to adopt her child, they could put Cambodia on
hold for up to a year without losing their deposits and application
fees.
"Cambodia is a sure thing," Wendy says. "I say let's go
to Cambodia and anything else is a bonus. God will help us figure it
out if he wants us to have both. We've been through so much
heartache and pain. Kelli said we're guaranteed to get a baby from
Cambodia."
Mike agrees. It would cost about $21,500 to adopt
from Cambodia. That was within what they could afford and there was
also a new $10,000 federal tax credit for adopting parents. And once
they got their baby back from Cambodia, the birth mother could not
come back to reclaim her child.
There would be no more
heartbreaks, he thinks. It really is a sure thing.
They
complete the application and send it with their $100 application fee
to Lutheran Children and Family Services. They request a newborn
girl.
The couple contacts their adoption attorney to fill her
in on their change of heart.
Wendy finds an online support
group for parents adopting from Cambodia. There are also links with
pictures of more babies up for adoption. She looks at those
photographs every night before going to sleep.
Her students
are excited but sad. They do not want her to take a year off for
maternity leave. They offer to baby-sit the couple's infant in
between their classes while she continues to teach.
They
always make her smile.
Some of Mike's co-workers decide to
raise money for the couple to help with their airfare to Cambodia.
The couple is touched. Money will be tight for a while with Wendy
taking a maternity leave for a year. Mike plans to get a second job,
if needed.
They attend their parent training with Mrs.
Myers-Gottemoller. They purchase a travel book on Cambodia and allow
themselves to begin planning their lives as parents --
again.
Just when their dream of having a family was so close,
they are handed another lemon.
Through the online Cambodian
adoption support group, they learn that trouble is brewing in the
Third World country. A group of Americans is stuck there because the
government suspects their adoption agency is stealing babies and
illegally selling them. INS will not issue exit visas to bring their
adopted children back to the United States.
On top of that,
they have not heard from the woman in Texas in several
weeks.
They fear she has changed her mind.
Mrs.
Myers-Gottemoller assures them that this will not affect their
adoption. Brener-Sam Associates, the agency that Lutheran Children
and Family Services works with in Cambodia, has had no adoptions
ever fall through since 1997, when they first started doing
Cambodian adoptions. The founder, Harriet Brener, only works with
children who have been orphaned, she tells the couple.
They
are relieved.
Shortly after, the pregnant woman in Texas
calls. She assures them she still wants to give them her baby and
had been ill and unable to call.
Their hopes remain
high.
A few days later, she calls again. This time she is
crying hysterically.
"I don't know how to say this to you,"
she tells Wendy.
Wendy's heart falls. She's now certain the
woman has changed her mind.
"We need help," the woman sobs.
"We need money. Is there anything you can do to help us? I'm begging
you. I need to get out."
Wendy explains that the adoption
laws in Texas and Pennsylvania prohibit them from being able to give
her money. She gently asks if the woman has gone to the doctor or
filled out the adoption paperwork from their attorney.
She
hasn't.
Wendy tells her that she will call their lawyer to
see what the couple can do to help her but they are limited by
law.
"That was heartbreaking," she tells Mike, after hanging
up. "She sounded so desperate. She said she's so tired and wants her
pregnancy to be over. She still hasn't told her mom that she's
pregnant."
They call her two more times after that. Both
conversations are awkward. Then, they never hear from her
again.
"I don't know if she was trying to scam us or not,"
Wendy says. "She sounded so sincere. We don't even know if she was
really pregnant."
They concentrate on getting their required
paperwork completed for their trip to Cambodia to pick up their
daughter. They start their series of immunizations -- three shots to
protect against hepatitis B. They gather items they will need for
the trip -- a sweater for their daughter because she won't be used
to the air conditioning in the hotel; blankets, bottles and baby
formula.
They think about their daughter waiting for them in
an orphanage in Cambodia. Soon, they will have a picture of her and
then go get her and bring her home.
Mrs. Myers-Gottemoller
visits the couple in their home to conduct a home study. The home
study is required to ensure that the couple lives in an environment
fit and safe for the adopted child. She also asks them detailed
questions about their backgrounds, religious beliefs, families and
parenting plans.
Weeks later, they receive a copy of their
completed home study, followed by their required INS approval to
adopt in Cambodia.
But rumors are still flying on the online
message boards that Wendy visits. Most fear Cambodia will shut down
to adoptions for good.
"I don't know what to believe," Wendy
tells Mike.
Then, on Dec. 21, 2001, INS announces it is
suspending the processing of adoption petitions in Cambodia. It is
also reviewing the adoption process in Vietnam.
In Cambodia,
there is mounting evidence of illegal baby selling. The suspension
will remain in place until the Cambodian government can implement
adoption laws and procedures that meet international norms and
prevent abuses, says INS Commissioner James Ziglar.
"I don't
know how this roller coaster ends," Wendy says, with tears brewing.
"There are no turns. It's all up and down."
The Cummings are
again reassured by Mrs. Myers-Gottemoller that this suspension is
temporary and, at worst, would only delay their trip to Cambodia by
a month or so.
In early February, they meet with Harriet
Brener, who just returned from Cambodia and will be handling their
adoption over there. She answers their questions about traveling to
Cambodia and convinces them not to worry about the temporary
adoption suspension in the country.
"There are a lot of
people working on it," Mrs. Brener tells them. "I wouldn't be here
encouraging you to continue if I thought you weren't going to be
able to get your baby. I think we'll know something by
March."
A few weeks later, the couple receives a letter from
INS. The letter urges them to choose another country to adopt from
as the situation in Cambodia will probably not be resolved anytime
soon.
Mrs. Myers-Gottemoller confirms what the couple fears
most: Adoptions from Cambodia have been shut down
indefinitely.
"It was supposed to be a guarantee," Wendy
cries to Mike. "Why does this keep happening? "
We can switch
to another country, he says, trying to comfort her.
"All our
paperwork is in order," he says softly. "We can try Guatemala or
Kazakhstan."
We have options, he says. We'll get our
baby.
"No," she says quietly. "I'm done."
To be
continued...
Look for final part of staff writer JESSICA D.
MATTHEWS' series, The Making of a Family, in Wednesday's editions of
The Tribune and The Scranton Times.
İScranton
Times Tribune 2002
 Reader
Opinions |
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Name: RYAN |
|
Date: Jun, 18
2002 |
MY WIFE AND I
WENT THROUGH IVF FOR TWO YEARS BUT SHE DIDN’T GET
PREGNANT. WE DECIDED TO ADOPT 3 YEARS AGO AND WE HAVE A
BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER. ADOPTION IS HARD TO GO THROUGH BUT
YOU FORGET ABOUT THE STRUGGLES YOU WENT THROUGH WHEN YOU
LOOK AT YOUR CHILD’S FACE. AS AN ADOPTIVE PARENT, I CAN
TELL YOU TO KEEP ON GOING THROUGH WITH IT WENDY. THERE
IS A BRIGHT LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL IF YOU KEEP
YOUR CHIN UP AND KEEP TRYING.
|
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Name: Valerie |
|
Date: Jun, 18
2002 |
Hang in there
Wendy! Don't give up now.
|
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