| By Jessica D.Matthews |
06/19/2002 |
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Mike Cummings leafs through a packet of
information about adoptions from Kazakhstan, Guatemala and Vietnam.
A few days earlier, he and his wife, Wendy,
learned adoptions were indefinitely suspended from Cambodia while
officials investigated an illegal baby-buying scam. For nearly four
months, the Scranton couple had their hearts set on adopting a baby
girl from that southeast Asian country.
The news was the
latest uphill climb on an emotional roller coaster.
For eight
years, they had spent nearly $20,000 in failed infertility
treatments and unsuccessful attempts to adopt a baby in the United
States.
Their heartache immeasurable.
Yet,
they clung to a simple dream -- to make a family.
Just when
their dream seemed close enough to touch, they are told to pick
another country.
If only it was that easy.
Both Wendy
and Mike had already fallen in love with the daughter they had yet
to meet who was waiting for them in Cambodia. This latest news
devastated, especially Wendy.
"I'm going to quit soon," she
tells Mike in a flat tone. "I don't know how much more I can
take."
The dream is still alive
Mike understands all
too well the pain and desperation she feels. He too was sure this
Cambodia adoption would take place. It had felt so right.
But
he needs to be their pillar of strength.
"You can't quit," he
tells his wife firmly. "We've come too far."
And now, he
needs to show her their dream is still very much
alive.
Kazakhstan and Vietnam seem like good options, he
thinks as he reads up on adoption policies. They can get a baby as
young as 6 months in Kazakhstan and one as young as 4 months in
Vietnam.
Vietnam is risky, he tells Wendy. The Immigration
and Naturalization Service has already announced that it may shut
down adoptions in Vietnam, just like Cambodia, to investigate
suspected illegal adoption practices.
"Let's just see what
information we can get about it," he says.
Mike calls the
agency they used for their adoption in Cambodia. Officials give him
two phone numbers -- one for the adoption facilitator who handles
Kazakhstan adoptions and the other for a facilitator of Vietnam
adoptions.
The couple sits in their living room with the
Vietnam facilitator, Patrick Howard, on their speaker phone. They
learn Mr. Howard is with World Child International Adoption Agency,
located in Silver Spring, Md. It has been in operation since
1981.
"I have two infants up for adoption in Vietnam," he
tells them. "Adoptions are fairly stable in Vietnam right now. April
1 is the cutoff date when it might shut down there. But there are no
problems for couples who start their adoption paperwork before April
1."
Since they have already received INS approval to adopt
internationally, their paperwork should be minimal, he tells them.
They must fill out a form to change countries from Cambodia to
Vietnam. They will also have to amend their home study to say
Vietnam instead of Cambodia.
Adoptions from Vietnam require
two trips to the country, he explains. The first trip is five to
seven days. It's a formality to drop off paperwork, meet with
Vietnamese officials and briefly visit the baby at the orphanage, he
tells them.
The second trip lasts about two weeks while the
adoption is finalized. The adoption will cost about $20,000,
including airfares and hotels.
"If you amend your home study
next week, you can be over there by the second or third week of
March," he says.
Wendy is floored.
That's just a few
weeks away, she says to Mike in disbelief.
They had learned
from the Kazakhstan adoption facilitator that it would take longer
to get the couple to that Eastern European country to adopt a
baby.
"What do you want to do?" Mike asks her.
She
smiles.
"Let's go to Vietnam."
It's a boy
Mr.
Howard tells the couple he will soon let them know the sex of the
baby and send photographs.
"It feels like I'm pregnant
because we don't know the sex of the baby," she tells Mike
excitedly. "God has opened another door."
Her blue eyes
sparkle again, a smile plastered on her face.
Mike gets their
paperwork for Vietnam in order and sends it overnight to Mr.
Howard.
The couple learns they will adopt their infant from
an orphanage in Lang Son -- a village in northern Vietnam, about 10
miles from the China border.
"It's sinking in that this is my
child," Wendy laughs. "I can't wait to hold her or him."
She
touches Mike's arm.
"You've been so amazing through all
this," she says tenderly. "You've been on top of
everything."
A few days later, there is a surprise in their
e-mail -- four photographs.
"We've got a son," cries Mike, as
they look at the pictures and hug.
"Thank you, God," Wendy
says, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Look at his little
fingers and his cute nose," she continues. "He's perfect. Our son is
just perfect. I can't believe he's ours. I love him so
much."
She takes her finger to her lips, kisses it and then
touches his lips on the computer screen.
His name is Hoang
Trung Anh.
They will call him Andrew Michael Cummings. Drew,
for short.
He was born Dec. 9, 2001.
There is also a
doctor's report in the e-mail that says Drew is healthy. The
Cummings will need to take the report and pictures to a local
pediatrician to confirm their baby is fine.
At another
Scranton house a few blocks away, there are red, swollen eyes and
big, wide smiles. Mike, Wendy and Wendy's parents, Sylvia and
Leonard Zubrickas, have gathered at the house owned by Mike's
parents, Dorothy and James Cummings.
"I can't wait to get my
hands on him," Mrs. Zubrickas says, laughing, as she holds up a
picture of Drew that Mike had printed. "Look how cute he
is!"
Drew's pictures are already framed and on display in
both his grandparents' living rooms. The grandparents are planning
his future -- baseball games, dirt bike rides, shopping
trips.
"He's going to be smart," says Mrs. Cummings. "You can
tell by the expression on his face."
The couple prints more
photos. The next day, Wendy shares them with her math students and
fellow teachers at Old Forge School District. Mike proudly shows
them to his co-workers at the Lackawanna County Stadium, where he is
the director of public relations for the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Red
Barons.
They pack and plan for their first trip to Vietnam to
visit their son and get the adoption started. As is customary in
Vietnamese adoptions, they must bring gifts to the orphanage, their
baby's caretaker and other Vietnamese officials involved in the
adoption. The gifts are items such as ties, wallets, watches and
T-shirts.
20 hours of flying
Their flight is
scheduled for March 17 and they will return a week later. It will be
20 hours of flying plus more than six hours of layovers before they
arrive in Hanoi, Vietnam's capital. It is the couple's first time
traveling abroad.
When they arrive in Hanoi, they e-mail home
with updates on the trip. They get just 45 minutes to spend with
their son after traveling another 2 hours by van to the
orphanage.
They meet Drew's nanny, Lem, and through a
translator they learn about Drew's sleeping and eating patterns. In
Vietnamese orphanages, one nanny is assigned to each
baby.
Following the visit, they meet with the Vietnamese
Justice Department, where they are interviewed.
They learn
that Drew's mother is unmarried and 25 years old. She lives with her
family, who are rice farmers. They cannot afford to keep the baby.
There is no information about the father.
They also learn
that the mother will attend the Giving and Receiving Ceremony in
Vietnam. The ceremony is a Vietnamese formality to adopt a
child.
The first trip goes well but it is tortuous to leave
Drew behind.
"I wanted to grab Andrew out of the nanny's
arms," Wendy says, a few days after they return home. "He smiled
when I held him. I felt like a part of my heart was tore out when we
left him."
The thought of returning to bring Drew home keeps
the couple going. They check regularly to make sure adoptions will
not be stopped in Vietnam.
They buy clothing and baby items
for their son. Wendy finds the perfect outfit for the Giving and
Receiving Ceremony -- equipped with a tiny clip-on tie and sandals.
They order baby furniture and turn the guest room into a nursery --
a baseball Snoopy theme, just like they had planned years ago when
they tried to have a child on their own.
They impatiently
wait for a phone call from Mr. Howard to learn when they can return
to Vietnam for Drew. Almost two months after their first trip to
Vietnam, the phone rings.
"We're leaving in a week," Mike
says, after hanging up the phone with Mr.
Howard.
Destination: parenthood
The flight lands in
Hanoi on Mother's Day. The Cummings pray there are no holdups. In
Vietnam, there is no structure. Business is conducted when officials
want and anything can hold the process up.
Two days later,
they and three other couples from throughout the United States are
taken by van to the orphanage.
The van turns onto a dirt road
tucked between hills and high mountains in the province of Lang
Son.
On both sides of the road, there are wooden shacks
transformed into makeshift homes, eateries that resemble soup
kitchens and stores with no customers. Chickens peck at crumbs as
the van passes. The poverty is hard to miss.
Women sit on the
sides of the road peddling fresh fruit, meat and grains of rice from
nearby farms that they brought to the village in woven baskets
balanced on a stick across their shoulders. Children -- no older
than 7 -- beg for handouts. Education is a privilege few can afford
in the Communist country of 78 million, where the average annual
salary is about $350.
The orphanage is up the road. It is
rundown -- chipped paint, rusted gates and piles of metal and trash.
Barefoot children lurk behind doors watching the group of Americans
emerge from their van.
The adopting parents are ushered into
a small room to wait.
"They are dressing the children," says
Liem, the group's translator and facilitator in
Vietnam.
'There he is'
When the first baby is brought
out -- a 7-month-old girl going home to Buffalo, N.Y., with her new
dad, Wendy and Mike can no longer sit still. They wait outside in
the sweltering 98-degree heat for the nanny to bring them
Drew.
"Oh my God," Wendy cries, when she sees her son. "There
he is."
Mike cradles the infant tightly in his arms, partly
out of fear that the moment is not really the end of their long,
winding ride.
He can't stop staring at his face. Two bright
black-saucer eyes, rosy cheeks, a bottom tooth starting to push
through tender gum.
His son. He's holding his
son.
Their son.
He looks at Wendy, but her eyes are
glued to their baby.
Tears stain her cheeks. Her eyes water
again.
He reaches out and touches her arm.
"This is
our son. OUR son. Can you believe, this is our son?"
Drew
smiles and gurgles.
"It's like he knows we're his parents and
we're taking him home," Wendy says.
Drew's nanny, Lem, is by
his side. She is a grandmotherly type who claps and makes clicking
noises with her tongue when the baby starts to fuss. She has taken
care of him for the past five months. Although she speaks no
English, it is easy to see her emotions fluctuating between sadness
at saying goodbye to the baby and happiness that he has found a
home. With the help of a translator, she fills the couple in on
Drew's napping routine, type of formula and other
care.
Giving and Receiving
Then, the couples,
children and nannies are taken to the District Justice office, in
Lang Son, where they will be interviewed and have the Giving and
Receiving Ceremony. The office is part of Vietnam's Social Justice
Department, which oversees adoptions and child welfare.
The
birth mothers are already there waiting to meet the adoptive parents
in a room with green and red velvet curtains and a white bust of Ho
Chi Minh -- Vietnam's communist leader during the war between North
and South Vietnam.
"I'm not sure I want to meet her," Mike
says nervously. "What if she changes her mind?"
Liem
introduces the couple to the young woman. She looks as nervous as
they are, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.
Wendy hands
Drew to her.
Her face lights up and she smiles at the baby.
She talks to him in Vietnamese. Later, her father and sister will
join them.
Through a translator, she asks Wendy and Mike if
they will write to her regularly about Drew and send
pictures.
They agree.
In Vietnamese adoptions, the
couple must also agree to write letters and send photos to the
District Justice office until the child turns 18.
The young
woman hands Wendy a letter and photographs of her family with Drew
-- taken two days ago at the orphanage. The letter, translated for
the Cummings, thanks them for adopting her child and giving him a
life in America.
The ceremony begins with a speech from the
Vietnamese officials about the couples' responsibilities as adopting
parents. Wendy and Mike are asked to sign numerous documents, as is
the birth mother. Wendy addresses the directors of the District
Justice office.
"You have made our dreams come true," she
tells them.
That night in their hotel room, the couple sits
on their bed. Drew is lying on his back between them, playing with a
stuffed animal. Wendy plays peekaboo with a blanket. He is
laughing.
It won't be until 2 a.m. the next morning that it
sinks in: They are now parents. Drew wakes up crying. Wendy sits him
in her lap and feeds him a bottle.
She looks down at him, so
dependent on her. She starts to cry.
Their dream has finally
come true.
They, and the other couples, still have a few more
steps to take in Vietnam before the adoption is finalized. They must
fly nearly three hours south to Ho Chi Minh City -- formerly known
as Saigon -- and have Drew examined by a doctor. Then, they must
have an embassy interview, apply for a passport for the baby and get
Drew's visa to exit the country.
On the streets in Hanoi, and
in the airport at Ho Chi Minh City, strangers stop Wendy and Mike to
look at and touch Drew. They think it is wonderful that the
Vietnamese baby is going to live in America. Vietnam has become more
popular among Americans seeking to adopt internationally. Last year,
Americans adopted 737 children from Vietnam.
"You are a lucky
baby," one woman says in broken English as she touches Drew's
cheek.
In Ho Chi Minh City, there are two new translators and
facilitators -- Nancy and Martin, as they are introduced to the
adopting parents -- who will handle the final stages in the
adoption.
A van takes the couples to a gated complex that is
considered the country's most sophisticated hospital. Patients lie
on gurneys outside. One woman gets her head stitched up at a table
set up near a flowering tree.
Wendy, Mike and Drew are
escorted up a set of stairs.
A doctor who speaks English and
was trained in the United States examines the baby with a
stethoscope. That, and the weighing and measuring of the infant, are
the extent of the medical examination.
"He looks good," the
doctor says. "He is very healthy."
After the appointment,
they are taken to have Drew photographed for his visa.
Home
sweet home
By Monday, May 20, Drew's paperwork is completed
and the Cummings are more than ready to return home. They switch
their flights and are greeted by swarms of relatives when they
arrive in Philadelphia a few days later.
That night, they
take Drew up to his room for bed. Wendy gently lays him in the
crib.
She looks down at her son.
Her heart is full
with a happiness she only dreamed of feeling eight years ago when
she and Mike first tried to start a family.
Their journey had
been long and took them far from Scranton.
Now, it all makes
sense. All the pain and suffering was necessary to lead them to
Andrew.
He is their reason for being. He always
was.
Their home is no longer empty.
©Scranton Times Tribune 2002
Reader Opinions |
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Name: momof 4 |
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Date: Jun, 19 2002 |
From reading the series it appears that the CUmings family tried to adopt domestically, but failed. It also appears that they were only interested in adopting a Caucasian or light skinned infant. A child of this description is not a waiting child. I have four internationally adopted children. All my boys were adopted at an older age. Before we decided to adopt internationally we looked at domestic adoption. As first time parents we did not feel that we could handle some of the problems that the local children had. Now that we have more experience we might look to the domestic adoption on an older special needs child.
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Name: Betty Newcomb |
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Date: Jun, 19 2002 |
Very Good I never thought the times had such a good HEART to write such a good story.
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