Stahlke Adoption

Four Mothers

Lena and Misha periodically say something about their "mother" that I don't recall happening. In these cases, it usually means that they are remembering the other mothers in their lives:

The children call their birth mother their "Ukrainian mom." The last time they saw her, Lena was five years old, and Misha was four. They were old enough to remember quite a bit about her, and even when they don't remember, the stories from the older children feel like memories to them.

I, of course, am their "American mom."

Both Lena and Misha also talk a lot about their "German moms." In the summer of 2005, right before we adopted them, a group of young children from their orphanage spent several weeks at a gymnastics camp in Germany. I don't know if a benefactor paid for the trip, or if it was funded through Ukrainian or German government sources. The children traveled on buses from Ukraine to a small town in Germany. From my own summer travels in Germany and Ukraine, I know how green and beautiful such a drive must have been for them.

The children attended sports camp during the day, and at night stayed with host families. Lena and Misha resided in different homes that were within walking distance from each other. Lena has told me that her German mom spoke Ukrainian, although her German dad did not. She has also described her "German brother" to me. Lena and Misha talk about visiting each other's families and finding different toys in the two houses. Periodically, they are describing a toy that is in OUR house in Forest Park, so it's impossible to know where the memory of Germany ends and their current life begins.

In August 2005, when we left Ukraine to bring the children to the U.S., our flight plan included a stopover in the Frankfurt, Germany airport. The gangways on which you walk to enter the plane are made of glass, which gives an incredible view of the airport on all sides. The Frankfurt airport is one of the largest in Europe, and is high-tech in every way. And because we were taking an international flight, all the planes in our area were huge. As the children stopped to look in amazement at the view, six-year-old Misha struggled to comprehend it. Turning to me, he said almost sadly, "This is not MY Germany."

posted by Stahlkes @ 9:58 AM