Adoption Update: Order Passed!

It’s official: We are now the legal guardians of the twins. Woohoo?

Well, don’t bring out the champagne bottles just yet – we’re not even half done.

See, if we were not Hindus (we’re not, really, but by dint of birth and for the sake of convenience(huh?) we’ll let that pass for now), once we were awarded guardianship of the twins, we’d be done. Almost done – apart from processing the paperwork required for getting their birth certificates.

But, since we’re Hindus, and specifically because we’ve adopted from Pondicherry (generally inadvisable, if you ask me), we now have to go through the legal process applicable to Hindus to complete the adoption.

Plus, we have to get the birth certificates.

Only, we can start the two processes in parallel.

Once we get a copy of the Judge’s order.

Which will take only a month.

Only?

Why?

Don’t ask me! I’d like to know why myself.

And then, based on that order, we have to get an adoption deed, which has to be registered. Somewhere. By someone. Yes, we have to be present for that, both of us.

And after that, we get have to get a bone-age X-ray done on the girls. And that has to be done in Pondicherry as well, and certified by the Chief Medical Officer.

Why? I don’t know – the adoption agency actually has the hospital records stating when and where and how they were born and what their birth weight was and that they were full term and all that, so I really don’t know why we need to subject them to an X-ray to tell us what we already know about how old they are.

And then we need to be interviewed by the DC – District Collector? Or Deputy Collector? Or District Magistrate? Somebody like that. And he wants to not only interview us, but meet the girls as well. In Pondicherry, of course, in Pondicherry.

Why? Well, why not? After all, the Judge hardly took any notice of us, so I suppose somebody should, just in case we are child traffickers or worse.

Oh, yes, the Judge. Well, Amit went and stood in the witness box and held his hand out and said “I swear to tell the truth,” and the Judge snickered. Yes, he really did, he snickered. Perhaps because Amit is so tall. Or maybe he caught sight of my haircut. Once he was done snickering, he spent a couple of minutes reading through the affidavit, while the court clerk shuffled through the accompanying documents. The lawyers were talking in whispers amongst themselves, like back benchers in college. The girls were wriggling, squirming, squealing, and flirting with the audience. I never heard it said, but apparently at the end of 90 seconds or so, he passed the order and went on to the next case. I didn’t hear or see any gavel being banged or anybody saying “Case dismissed,” – nothing like the movies at all. But anyway, Amit got to stand in the witness box, so I suppose that justifies the long, long drive to Pondicherry and back.

So we are now their official guardians, but only till the girls turn 18. Every year, we must send to the Family Court, reports of their health and wellbeing, along with school progress reports. Plus, we can’t leave the country with the girls; well, we can take short trips, provided we inform our lawyer and the adoption home first, but we can’t emigrate. And of course, the girls are still not our legal heirs, so if we had met with an accident and died on the way back from Pondicherry (or at any time now), they would  have been left penniless. This, of course, we have to remedy as soon as possible, because you never know, do you?

And meanwhile, the second part of the adoption case, under the Hindu Adoption and Maintenance Act, which will make them our legal heirs, could take a year or more in the Pondicherry Civil Court. So that champagne celebration had better wait a while yet, don’t you think.

Strangely Estranged

When we took the twins back to Pondicherry last week, we had every intention of making a short visit to the adoption agency (that is, the orphanage). We had some romantic notion that those people would like to see the twins, see how they’re getting on. We thought it might be nice for the twins too. Not that they’d remember anything of that place now (after six months away, they wouldn’t, would they?) but if we did take them there for occasional visits over the course of the years, they would have something to latch on to when they began to understand about adoption. Everything I had read about adoption spoke of the wisdom of doing this, and some of the personal experiences I found on the Net also spoke of building a sort of relationship with the institution or organization which kept the adopted children prior to their adoption. And our kids, after all, had spent the entire first year of their lives in that place with those people – surely that was something worth building on?

We had had intermittent contact with the agency over the past few months, mainly to do with paperwork concerning the adoption. Since we spoke no Tamil, we had mainly communicated with Sister M – the head honcho there – and Sister P, who was the only other person there fluent in English. On our first visit to the agency six-plus months ago, everyone had been very warm and welcoming. We had been a little apprehensive, but we faced no trouble at all in taking the kids out, getting their medical tests done, and finally driving away with them.

What did strike me as odd then, and left a mildly unpleasant taste in the mouth, was that they – that is, I suppose, primarily Sister M – seemed a little too eager to “get rid of” the twins. “Get rid of” is exactly the feeling I got – though I tried to attribute it to a more charitable emotion of wishing the twins a good home and family. An alternative but still understandable motivation could have been financial: charitable organisations are always in need of money, and getting rid of the twins benefited them significantly monetarily. Still, the eagerness, even anxiousness, to get us to take charge of the kids was vaguely reminiscent of a shopkeeper trying to sell a flawed product at an exorbitant price to over-eager, innocent customers.

Well, these particular customers were happy to take charge of these particular “products” that didn’t appear – medically or otherwise – to be flawed, so I tried to ignore the feeling of being duped… and what with being so busy and happy with the girls, it was quite easy after all.

Till now. When we called the agency to tell them we’d be dropping in during our visit to Pondicherry, the response was surprising: “Oh, there’s no need for that,” said Sister P sweetly, “you’ll be meeting Sister M at the courthouse.”

Sure enough, we did meet Sister M at the courthouse. Now, Sister M, being the head honcho and all, was, I suppose, never the one to actually manage the kids on a day-to-day basis. So she may not have had the pseudo-parent kind of bond with them that the actual care-givers may have had. Still, they had been her charges for one year, right in their infancy… she had even selected their original names herself, or so she had told us earlier… Both of us expected her to show some little interest in the twins – for decency’s sake if nothing else. I expected some comment on how good they were looking, how much they had grown, perhaps how they had put on so much weight, or that they were generally looking healthy and happy. I’m sure any parent would feel happy to hear any of these things, but none so much as an adopted parent, especially if it came from the person in Sister M’s position.

All we got, instead, was a curt question: “Are you happy?” My response was that the more relevant question would have been whether the twins were happy – this was brushed aside almost as though it were completely irrelevant. Sister M made no effort to communicate with the kids, far less hold them or cuddle them, merely made some polite conversation with us for all of two minutes and then turned away from us.

Well!

Discussing the matter later, Amit suggested that perhaps since she dealt with adoption all the time, she was inured to such emotional matters as how the kids were faring in their new homes, or whether they were blossoming or not. Perhaps. Who am I to judge or even to presume to understand what her life is like and what her emotions are? Perhaps for those who are in the business, ultimately these children are merely commodities, sold off just like material goods, to make their “owners” happy. But, I couldn’t understand it and I couldn’t feel at peace about it. I wish we could have had a warmer reception from the agency on our return visit, I wish we could have felt like it was a place the kids could revisit over the years.

Perhaps, for those women who actually do all the work for the kids there, it would have been a different story, and there would have been some interest or happiness in seeing the twins again. But without any encouragement from Sister M, it looks unlikely that we will ever meet them to see the interest – or, perchance, the indifference – on their faces.

Of course, our kids lost their biological parents. Now it seems like they’ve also lost their first “adopted” (to use the term loosely) parents, and with it, all connection to their lives prior to coming home to us. And that’s sad.

Why Adopt?

Why not?

When we were wondering whether to adopt, and later as we discuss the matter with others, we came up with a whole lot of questions or issues around adoption. Some of them were very relevant to either one or both of us; others were not important; and some lines of thought advanced by other people left us frankly astonished.

In no particular order:

• Gender
• Age at the time of adoption
• Age at the time of being given up for adoption
• Looks and complexion
• General health – height, weight and overall development
• Diseases, disabilities, or congenital conditions, if any
• Date and time of birth or assumed date and time of birth; sun sign
• Marital status or nature of relationship between biological parents
• Reason for being given for adoption
• General health of biological parents – predisposition to genetic diseases or conditions
• Health of biological mother during pregnancy – exposure to/use of tobacco, alcohol, other substances
• Economic status of biological parents
• Caste of the biological parents
• Religious affiliations of the biological parents
• Moral and ethical values of the biological parents (why on earth should this matter? At least I’ve not yet heard anyone wanting to know the political affiliation of the biological parents…)
• Whether or not the biological parents were vegetarians

There might be other, more arcane considerations: the kind of car the biological parents drive, or whether they prefer Pepsi or Coke. For Amit and me, only the first six points mattered at all, and of them it was only the matter of diseases, disabilities, or congenital conditions that could be a gating factor. While we did consider and discuss the other five factors, and have some preferences on them, we did not consider turning down an option on any grounds other than health. Yet, I can understand other people being concerned about some of the other issues as well, and I can understand many of these being important enough to be gating factors for other people.

All said and done, it is not an easy decision, and finally there’s only one motivation that is strong enough to override all the considerations against adoption: the fundamental desire to have a child. People have often said to Amit and me what a noble thing we have done by adopting our kids; but they completely miss the point. In our case, as in many cases, there is nothing “noble” about it. We adopted purely out of the desire to have kids – a selfish desire, if ever there was one. Once that desire is strong enough, it no longer matters whether the child was born out of wedlock, whether she was born to people of a different religion or caste, or whether she is a saggitarian, a taurean or a scorpion. Nothing matters except that she will be yours and you will finally be a parent.

Twins at Home!

I have never noticed a city I visited less than I noticed Pondicherry on this trip. I knew my way to the orphanage, and that was all. I even had to have the beach pointed out to me along the way, I was that preoccupied.

Meeting the twins at the orphanage, I could not say there was any instant attraction or bonding. When we held them, they cried, as we had been warned they would. All the same, the younger one, Tara, settled down quite quickly, though Mrini took a while. She was the first to throw up on me, politely favouring me with her attention on our way from hospital to orphanage on Tuesday. Now she has turned out to be a clingy and somewhat whiny baby who always wants to be held. She sucks her thumb and forefinger all the time and seems a little withdrawn, scared, and a bit of a “mommy’s-girl” – she follows me around like a puppy on all fours and cries if Amit picks her up. Tara is all smiles, the adventurous one, and loves Amit. The only problem is that she is being fussy about her food, eating very little and obligingly vomiting on her feeder if coaxed to eat more than she would like. They both have stuffed noses, and Tara absolutely hates having her nose wiped. She loves being bathed, though, and Mrini hates it and howls fit to bring the neighbours down if her hair is washed.

They are sometimes very cute together – if they are in the mood, they will go crawling off towards some particularly enticing object, pull themselves up using whatever furniture is at hand, stand shakily for some minutes with their backsides wobbling, then sit down together, plop, on their bottoms, turn around and grin at us. Tara bullies Mrini by pushing her, pulling her hair, and telling her not to suck her thumb. Mrini meets most of these advances with a stern and somewhat skeptical look, as though to say, “What would you know, you’re fifteen minutes younger than me.”

All said and done, they are a proper handful. Two handfuls, actually.

Hmmm… we have been inundated with phone calls. My parents, who never showed any real signs of being doting grandparents have, according to my sister, been staring cross-eyed and photos of the twins and wondering whether 7 a.m. is too early to phone and find out what the twins are getting for breakfast.

Right now, Tara and Mrini are having their afternoon nap, and Amit is sprawled out next to them, also having an afternoon nap – he hasn’t been able to sleep at night, though the twins seem to be getting a good eight hours.

Life has changed radically all right – from being DINKs (double income no kids) two weeks ago, we suddenly find ourselves as full-fledged SITTs (Single income, two toddlers).

Photos? Well, they are in the camera and two cell phones. The only question is, when will I get them out and on to Flickr??? Your guess is as good as mine.

Yes, Twins!

We got our babies! We drove back from Pondicherry yesterday afternoon. It was all relatively smooth sailing, medical tests were all clear and the girls took to us without too much fuss. They’re sleeping for the moment, but it’s time I went and woke them up for dinner. I don’t think I’m going to be getting much time on the computer in the coming days, but will try to post some photos eventually. Thanks for all the best wishes!

Unemployed and Impatient

Two days of unemployment, and the condition doesn’t so far seem very different from the past two years of employment. Correction, the condition hasn’t been very different, I should say, considering I had about the same volume of work then as I do now.

Leaving office wasn’t too much of an ordeal. Surprisingly, one team that I have sort of been working with decided to give me a team farewell, with speeches, gifts and all that. Luckily it didn’t last too long, as I was in the midst of some particularly taxing termination process right then. A couple of friends bought me small and very nice mementos, a few people sent me really nice (and partly unexpected) replies to my farewell email. The Administration made me run from pillar to post to complete all the formalities, but were quite polite and cooperative about it. And by 3.30 p.m. it was all over and I was on my way home.

I was really lucky that I left at that hour – it only took me an hour or so to get home. The rest of the world, who left at the usual hour, got stuck in horrendous traffic jams thanks to the flood situation and the fortunate ones, like Amit, took three hours to get home (and that was only because he got off the shuttle and walked the last 4-5 km).

Meanwhile, it goes without saying that over the last few days I’ve hardly been able to think of anything other than twins. Will we get them? When will we get them? What will they be like? What are their names, as of now? Are they really completely normal and healthy? What do they look like? How will they take to us? What are they eating these days? Are they already talking? Walking? How will we manage two of them? When will we get to see them? When will we know when we can go see them?

Sigh. Adoption is in many ways so completely different from having kids the usual way.

According to some philosophies, every person is born to learn some lesson from their life. This belief is usually tied up with multiple rebirths of the soul on its way to attaining nirvana. I’m not sure I believe in the rebirth part of the theory, but I can say this much – If I’ve been born to learn one lesson in life, that lesson has got to be patience; and who ever is trying to teach me that lesson is going about it in a rather thorough and unforgiving fashion.

And, what’s more, if everyone I talk to is to be believed, the long wait to actually have a family is only the beginning of my lesson in patience… once I start trying to handle the twins, I’ll really have my work cut out for me. I only wish I could start soon!!!

Twins? TWINS?!

There’s no point going on about it, but the fact remains that every time we see kids – and we see kids every day, every where, damn it! – I think of how nice it would be to have our own, and I wonder when it’s ever going to happen and whether it’s ever going to happen. Life goes on, I don’t get all depressed and blue, like I used to, but I still think of it and it still pricks me, every day.

We had heard that it might be easier (read, quicker) to adopt from Calcutta, so with great hopes we approached a well-reputed agency over there… but after meeting my father-in-law three times and Amit once, they said, “Sorry, we don’t really encourage out-of-state applicants. Come back in January. Or don’t.”

We were thinking, vaguely, of trying yet another agency in Calcutta, but without putting our hearts into it. I thought Bangalore was our best hope and it looks like being a long wait.

Then, we got a call. They’ve got twins! In Tamil Nadu. Are we interested?

You bet we are!

It’s true, they’re 13 months old, so we have already missed the first step, the first word and all that. They’re probably already rattling away entire sentences in Tamil. But, if we get them, we’ll have them the rest of our lives at least, won’t we? Even if we’ll have to jump straight into the potty training part, without any of the cute, cuddly, waddling around on all fours part. (I hate when people tell me how lucky I’ll be to miss out on the long nights and the early months. I really don’t think missing out on the teeniest bit of it, however tiring, is “lucky” and if people think it is, they should try it, before they say it.)

Anyway, so, twins. That means two. Girls. I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up – it’s too early to say anything and lots of things could go wrong… I shouldn’t be declaring it to the world at large right now… it’s like telling everyone you’re pregnant the morning after the night before. But, hope and anguish are fighting a pitched battle inside me, and I can’t keep quiet about this right now.

I wish Amit weren’t such a staunch atheist… crazy (and corny) though it sounds, I’d be happier if I knew there were two of us praying for this to work out.

Naturally, I’ll keep you all posted.