Waiting for an Unknown Child Half a World Away

This is part two of a three-part series on the foreign adoption experiences of Randy and Catherine Johnson. You can read part one at barnbluff.com.

It had taken more than a year, but by August, 1989, we had finished all the required pre-adoption formalities and were feeling pretty good about the direction we were headed.

We had made the payments and completed the background checks, fingerprinting, meetings, and home visit. All that was left was to wait for the phone to ring with the referral call. The child would come through International Mission of Hope from an orphanage in Calcutta (now called Kolkata).

Indian law requires that the children must first be offered to Indian families. So that could possibly slow things down. Girls are less likely to be adopted there because they are expected to provide a dowry of money or property when they marry.

The call came to Catherine at work in March, 1990. We could expect an infant girl, born in October, 1989, from the Kolkata orphanage soon. Catherine shared this with me over the phone since I was teaching a computer class somewhere in the US.

While we were waiting for the arrival date to be set, we received news that, due to a change in politics, the Indian government had started denying licenses to adoption agencies, even Mother Teresa’s agency. Those without a license were unable to place children.

What this meant, we didn’t know, but it was not what we wanted to hear. Shortly after learning this, we received a surprise visit from the other couple that had gone through the pre-adoption process with us. They, too, had received a referral for a girl from the same orphanage but were not aware of the licensing holdup. We spent the evening commiserating.

Time dragged as we waited for news. On her first birthday, we received a fuzzy photo of a forlorn-looking child in an orphanage bed. She could have been the poster girl for international adoption. Her given name at the orphanage was Saraswati, the name of an Indian goddess of learning. We named her Clara Kumari Johnson. Clara is an old family name and Kumari is Indian for “princess.”

Eventually, the agency’s license was renewed and the process of getting adoptions approved by the Indian courts was started. In early January, 1991, the other couple called to tell us that they had received their daughter, Menashi.  We were hopeful that Clara would soon arrive, but then we were thrown another curve. On January 17, the Desert Storm war started. Catherine cried as we watched the news, knowing that war could interrupt international travel, among other things.

In March we were notified that adoption files were again being reviewed by the Indian courts. Unfortunately, Clara’s file was assigned to a judge who suddenly refused to review any international adoptions. An appeal to a higher court by the agency resulted in the lower court judge being ordered to review them. Then that judge decided to go on vacation. The files were assigned to a new judge who approved the adoption.

All of these delays meant the orphanage costs were higher so we were required to provide additional funds. Then, in late May, Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, was assassinated. Catherine thought this would end the process altogether. We had reached rock bottom.

But only a short time later we were told that Clara was cleared to travel and would arrive on June 2, which is also Catherine’s birthday. She and seven other children arrived with their escorts at MSP airport on a flight from Seattle. Clara was greeted by a large group of her new relatives. Several families who had already adopted Indian children were also there in support. Clara was now almost 19 months old, arriving more than a year later than we had expected. But that didn’t matter anymore.

Clara had been a premature birth so we weren’t sure what effects that might have on her. We eventually realized that she had trouble with distance vision. A clue was when we noticed she stood just inches from the TV in order to see it. Her daycare also noticed the vision problems. Glasses opened a new world to her and she started to develop quickly.

We were required to file a report with Children’s Home Society every three months the first two years, then a final report six months later. She’s had her bumps and bruises but over the years it became clear that she would be a typical American girl, no different than other kids her age. She didn’t talk much when she first arrived, but she has made up for that many times over.

It’s unlikely that Clara will ever be able to locate her birth mother or even trace her ancestry. She was born in a birthing hospital from a mother who disappeared shortly after the birth. We will always wonder about the mother and father, and would be proud to introduce her to them. We may tour Kolkata and her orphanage someday when she is ready. Tours are occasionally arranged through the agencies.

Clara graduated from Red Wing High School and the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse and is now a regulatory representative with medical device company Boston Scientific in Maple Grove. She helps make sure their products and processes conform to worldwide standards and regulations.

Once Clara’s adoption was finalized on December 4, 1991 and she became a US citizen on January 21, 1992, we became eligible to adopt another child. Did we really want to? Were we even mentally ready to do this again? If so, what would we do differently?

Next: Changing It Up for the Final Piece of the Family Puzzle