Grant writes a new message to the Gmail address: I found the money and the picture of the Eiffel Tower. Who are you? What do you want with me?

And then he presses send.

9

From Iris Pollitt’s “From Russia with Love” Adoption Journal

2002

So the consultant/lawyer I talked with about foreign adoption, Danielle Roberts, suggested that I keep a journal to chronicle our process in adopting a baby from overseas. It can be a long, hard road (look! My first cliché!), and journaling, she said, could help me through the ups and downs. “A writer like you probably already keeps a journal, don’t you? To write down images and phrases, right?” she said, and I nodded. And she said, rightly, that our new child might really like to read this one day, to understand what Kyle and I went through to get her or him, and that Julia would value it as well—she may not remember any of this when she’s older. And that we would want to remember every detail.

I got into doing a journal when Julia was so sick, and hopefully this will be a help along the same lines. Sometimes it’s calming just to get the thoughts down on paper.

So, pen in hand, I start. This will be harder than writing a song.

How did we decide on adoption? Four miscarriages, then Julia, and then the doctors told me no more pregnancies. Not meant to be. We love Julia, of course. But we wanted another child.

Kyle said we should adopt an American child. And for a week, we discussed that. We didn’t want to adopt a child older than Julia. With a newborn the birth parents have ninety days to change their minds and take the child back—and away, forever—from you. After having dealt with Julia’s illness, I couldn’t risk it: a mother with regrets changing her mind or a father asserting his rights. Although that seems so unlikely in these situations, you never know. I wanted distance between us and the birth parents. Distance to give safety, distance to give perspective. Thousands and thousands of miles.

Distance meant certainty.