A promise of summer visits from 50 Russian orphans began deeply personal dramas for would-be parents. As they waited, plans kept changing.
By LANE DeGREGORY
Published August 17, 2003
[Times photos: Chris Zuppa]
Collin Wampler, 8, left, and Kaity Wampler, 6, put their arms around Olga, 9, a new arrival from Russia, at Tampa International Airport. Their mother, Toni Wampler, was taking them to their Bradenton home Aug. 2. The Wamplers planned to care for Olga until her host family returned from vacation; the child assigned to them did not arrive for another four days.
While cleaning out their guest bedroom in May for the boy they expect from Russia, Bob and Darcel Schouler of Tampa find some childhood hand puppets.
On July 12 Bob and Darcel Schouler, and Darcel’s mother, Arline Hoskinson of Riverview, get their first glimpse of the boy the Schoulers hope to adopt: a solemn-eyed, 5-year-old named Stanislav, or Stas for short.
Darcel Schouler tries to stay focused on the paperwork that has to be completed to adopt a Russian orphan. She spent 45 hours filling out forms.
After about two months of delay, 12 Russian orphans arrive at Tampa International Airport around 11:15 p.m. on Aug. 2. They are led by escort Jan Melis from Adoptions Abroad.
Around 2 a.m. on Aug. 7, Tom and Gigi Pawlus try to comfort Katya, 8, who is spending her first night in the family’s Wesley Chapel home. Officials from Adoptions Abroad said that the first 24 hours of Camp KidsHope is the hardest for host families and orphans.
TAMPA - They passed around pictures at that first meeting, pages and pages of the children. Little girls with long brown bangs. Little boys with blond crew cuts. Toothless grins. Shy smiles. Big eyes peering from pale faces.
Russian orphans. Thousands were waiting to come to America.
Bob and Darcel Schouler oohed and aahed over the photos with the other would-be parents. They were sitting in the chapel at Bayshore Baptist Church, surrounded by more than a dozen couples. They had come, that Saturday back in April, to learn about a summer camp. They wanted to host a child.
They wanted to be a family.
They were supposed to be listening to a lady from Adoptions Abroad who was explaining about Camp KidsHope - the expenses, the paperwork, the process.
But Bob and Darcel weren't listening. Their minds kept fast-forwarding to when that plane landed, and their little boy ran through the airport toward them, and they kneeled down and hugged him so hard, and he wrapped his little hands around their necks, and they told him how long they had been hoping for a little boy just like him.
"The children are coming here for an educational and cultural experience," said the agency lady, Jan Melis. "Our hope is that we will find families while they're here who will want to adopt them after they leave."
Couples must pay $200 to host an orphan. A few weeks before the children arrive, the agency will hand out photos of them, Melis said. The children are 4 to 10 years old and will be here for three weeks.
"Three whole weeks," Darcel whispered to Bob.
Long enough to take him to the beach, to play baseball with him, to take him on walks with their dog. Long enough to have suppers around the too-big dining room table, to give him baths and read him stories and rock him to sleep.
The orphans will be here June 8, Melis said.
That's what she said.
Sign us up
So couples across Florida signed up to host 50 Russian orphans.
Some, like Tom and Gigi Pawlus, already had adopted two daughters. They wanted another.
Many, like Bob and Darcel Schouler, were childless.
The couples heard about Camp KidsHope through friends, Internet sites, news reports. The program allows potential parents to bring a child into their home for a few weeks, and see how he or she adapts. At the end of camp, all the children return to Russia. Then, families who want to adopt can start the paperwork. Six months and $20,000 later, the couple can travel to Russia and bring back their child.
"You get to really spend time with this child before you have to make a decision," Darcel said. "That's why we wanted to go with this program. It's almost too perfect."
Gigi agreed. She and her husband had gone through an attorney to adopt their oldest daughter, Paige, who is 12 now. Their younger daughter, Grace, is 10. She came through an agency. Gigi and Tom had always wanted another daughter. But the adoptions of both their girls had been so difficult. They worried about trying another one domestically.
Gigi, 42, works part-time for a real estate appraiser. Tom is an accountant for Coca-Cola. He's 46 - too old, he thought, to start over with another infant. So when Gigi saw an announcement about the older Russian orphans, she called him.
They asked for a girl, age 6 to 8.
They told Paige and Grace they would have a little sister soon.
A will and a way
Bob and Darcel always thought they would have children. For more than a decade, they tried.
Bob, 56, runs a computer consulting company. Darcel, 42, is an advertising executive for Buick. They've been married for 17 years. All their friends have children. They spend lots of time with their godchildren, nephews and nieces. But eventually all those children have to go home.
Years ago, Darcel had a complicated miscarriage. She couldn't get pregnant again. She spent the last five years researching domestic adoption programs. But she kept hearing horror stories about birth mothers coming back to claim their kids.
Then her mother saw something about the Russian orphans on TV. She called Darcel and told her about Camp KidsHope.
The next week, Bob and Darcel got a sign.
One week after Darcel's mom called about the orphans, Bob's mom died. She left her only son $10,000. Her will said it was seed money - so they could adopt a child.
"That's how we knew," Darcel said. "That's how we knew this was meant to be."
They asked for a little boy, 4 or 5 years old.
His American name, they said, would be Alex.
Against all odds
Russia has more than 600,000 children in its orphanages, said Fred Knocke. He runs Adoptions Abroad with his wife, Jan Melis. Their nonprofit agency is based in Houston.
Older orphans are especially hard to find families for, Knocke said. That's why Adoptions Abroad is bringing them to America.
Russia is the only country that allows its orphans to travel overseas and stay with foreign families.
In 1992, the first year the State Department tallied the number of immigrant visas issued for Russian orphans, 394 children were adopted in the United States. By 2001, that number had grown to 4,279.
Russia is second on the list of countries that Americans are adopting children from, according to the State Department. China is first.
In January, Adoptions Abroad sponsored its first Florida camp. The agency brought 27 Russian orphans into Fort Myers. So far, 22 have been adopted.
"For many of these children, this trip is their last chance," Knocke said.
Many of these couples felt the same way. This camp was their last hope for a family.
The wait
All through May, couples were getting ready for the orphans.
A family from Fort Lauderdale rented a condo near St. Pete Beach so the little girl they were hosting could go to the zoo, the aquarium, the day camps planned for the orphans.
A family from Bradenton bought Russian picture books and dictionaries so their three children could communicate with their new brother.
Tom scheduled all his vacation for the first three weeks of June. His daughters and wife went shopping, picking out pink swimsuits and a white nightgown. "I hope this little girl won't be too big to cuddle," Gigi said.
Bob tore out the hedges along the side of his yard, so he and his boy would have room to toss baseballs. He rescreened his back porch, so his boy could play outside when it was raining. He cleared out the guest room and painted it sage green.
Darcel bought two Bucs T-shirts, small and medium, just in case. She hung movie posters around what would be the boy's room, Disney Dalmatians and fuzzy Muppets. She bought a DVD player, so she and Bob could snuggle with their son on the sofa and watch The Wizard of Oz.
And her mother. Oh! Her mother. Darcel's mom was more excited about Alex than anyone. He'd be her first grandchild. Weeks before he was scheduled to arrive, Darcel's mom stocked up on Scooby Doo plates and cups, Scooby Doo toothbrushes and beach towels, shorts and T-shirts, blinking sandals - things a Russian orphan probably never imagined.
Change of plans
They wanted pictures. The families were supposed to get their children in 10 days, and they still didn't have any pictures. What color hair does their daughter have? What sort of look is in their son's eyes? How old is their child? Is he smiling?
Bob e-mailed the agency, asking for information.
Knocke called the next day.
The orphans weren't coming. At least not now. The Russian government was cracking down on foreign travel because of SARS, Knocke said.
But don't worry, he said. We'll get those kids over here as soon as we can.
So the Fort Lauderdale family called the owner of the St. Pete Beach condo, ate the $50 cancellation fee, and said they would reschedule.
Tom worked through what was supposed to be his vacation.
And Bob hung shelves and set out toys in Alex's room. In a wooden trunk he hadn't opened in ages, he found trains his dad had made for the baby Darcel had lost. He found his old Lamb Chop puppet. He found his dog-eared copy of Charlotte's Web.
"Everything I do now, I think about having my boy beside me," Bob said in early June. "At Thanksgiving, Alex and I are going golfing while Mom makes the meal." Darcel smiles when he calls her Mom. "We're going to punt footballs and go to Bucs games. We're already checking out schools for him."
Cartoons and timeouts
The first week of July, Knocke finally phoned. The SARS scare had subsided, he said. The children, he said, would be here around July 15.
The next weekend, Bob and Darcel asked friends who have a 5-year-old boy out to dinner. A few things were troubling them. "When you start with a baby, you have time to learn," Darcel said. "But we needed a crash course."
They learned about timeouts, and how you are supposed to impose a minute for every year of the kid's age. They learned little boys can drown in 6 inches of water. They learned it can take an hour for a kindergartener to fall asleep.
And every night, while Bob and Darcel were lying in bed, they talked about Alex.
"He's going to be blond. With green or brown eyes. And a round, happy face," Bob predicted.
"I keep thinking he'll be thin," Darcel said. "But I know he'll have a big grin."
Darcel bought three frames for photos of Alex. Her son will hang above the stairs, between his grandparents and his parents' wedding portrait.
About Alex
At the training session July 12, the families found out the orphans like fruit, especially bananas. They don't like pizza or hamburgers, not yet. They share clothes at the orphanage, wearing unisex outfits stored in a single trunk.
At the end of the meeting, the families finally got photos.
Tom and Gigi would get an 8-year-old girl, Katya - a thin girl with thick brown hair.
Bob and Darcel's boy is named Stanislav. He's 5. "Stas is an out-going, affectionate, kind and polite boy," his bio said. The Russian courts took him away from his mother in May.
The photo showed a slender boy with green or brown eyes peering out from under cropped cornsilk hair. He was wearing what looked like a blue pajama top and pink knee socks. His expression was much too solemn for such a little fellow.
"He's a beautiful boy," Darcel whispered, tracing the tiny face. "And he has your ears, Bob. How'd he get your ears?"
The next week, Bob and Darcel took out a $15,000 equity line on their house. That plus the money from Bob's mom should be enough to get their boy for good.
"Now that we've seen him," Darcel said, "it's even harder to wait to hold him."
A backup boy
On July 15, Knocke said the children would be here July 18. On July 18, he said they would be here the 19th.
"The children have been released from the orphanages. But we can't get their visas until Monday," Knocke said early that Saturday, the 19th. "The children are with chaperones in a Moscow hotel."
Just before noon, Bob and Darcel got another call.
There was another problem, Knocke said. It was hard to explain. This is the first time Adoptions Abroad has tried to bring over children from the region where Bob and Darcel's boy is staying, Knocke said. At the last minute, he said, the consulate there refused to release any orphans. "Some orphanages are uncomfortable with their kids coming halfway around the world," Knocke said. So 17 of the children would not be coming.
"Not ever?" Bob asked.
There's a small chance, Knocke told him. But he didn't think so.
"But you sent us his photo," Bob said.
"I'm sorry," said Knocke. He paused. "If you're interested," he said, "we do have one other child."
The other child, Bob said, was a boy with crossed eyes and emotional problems. Besides, now that they had seen a photo of their son, now that they had imagined him in their arms, how could they take another, as if they were puppies at the pound?
On July 20, Knocke said the children would be here the next night. The next day, he said the same thing. For the whole next week the story was the same.
"Nothing is definite yet, understand," he said. "The Moscow consulate is overwhelmed just now."
So Tom and Gigi kept going back to the grocery, buying fresh bananas.
And Bob and Darcel blew up the grainy photo of their boy and printed out three 8 by 10s. His fuzzy face looked down at them from their kitchen cabinets, from Bob's computer, from Darcel's desk.
"The agency says there's still an outside chance Alex will be on that plane tomorrow," Bob said.
"Or whenever it gets here."
Ask the embassy
No one at the Florida Department of Children and Families was aware that 50 Russian orphans were supposed to be coming into Tampa this summer. If the agency that is bringing them here is from Texas, a spokesman said, Florida wouldn't regulate them. That would be Texas' job.
Char Bateman, a Texas Child Care Licensing manager, said Adoptions Abroad has been licensed for one year. "But if they only do international adoptions," she said, "we wouldn't regulate them."
The U.S. State Department has been trying to regulate international adoptions for almost a decade. Officials have been drafting new laws, trying to coordinate rules from different countries.
Stuart Patt is the spokesman for the Consular Affairs Bureau for the State Department. When he was asked who oversees international adoptions, he paused for a moment, over the phone. "You've really treaded into some swampy water," he said.
"The role of the State Department is to issue a visa once the child has been adopted so that the parents can bring that child into the United States," Patt said. "Russian adoptions are handled solely by the Russian government."
Patt had not heard of Adoptions Abroad. But he called the U.S. Embassy in Moscow to ask about the group of orphans in that hotel. He found out the Russian government still had not decided whether to release those children.
"It seems the agency has not completed the proper paperwork," Patt said. "The Russians are asking, "Who has legal authority for these children?' "
Melis, from Adoptions Abroad, flew to Moscow to try to reassure officials. "The Embassy personnel have continued to ask for additional paperwork," Knocke wrote in an e-mail. "We continue to submit additional paperwork and they have continued to request additional items."
Abandon hope - oops!
Another e-mail came just before noon on Wednesday, July 30. The children were due in that night, Knocke had said the night before. He had been saying that now for 10 days.
"After much thought, discussion with Russia, and many prayers, we have reached the decision that it is in the children's best interest to return" to the orphanages, Knocke wrote. "In spite of all efforts, the authorities have not yet submitted the required documentation to the Consulate. We are unsure of when these might be issued."
So that night, the Fort Lauderdale couple canceled their condo.
Tom and Gigi tried to explain to their daughters why they wouldn't get a little sister.
And Bob and Darcel - and dozens of other couples - tried to figure out what to do.
The next morning, Knocke sent out another e-mail: MIRACLES DO HAPPEN, the headline screamed. "Some of the children will likely be here this weekend."
But many of the children had gotten sick during their long layover at the Moscow hotel. Those children would have to go back to their orphanages, Knocke said. So he wasn't sure how many children actually would be coming - or which ones.
"What about our boy?" Bob wanted to know.
There was a small chance he might still be coming, Knocke said. A very small chance.
How would you feel?
First, 50 orphans were coming. Then 33.
On Saturday night, Aug. 2 - two months after the children were supposed to arrive - only 12 families were waiting at Tampa International Airport.
"Now, you should expect the children to be very, very tired," Melis told the group just before midnight. "Just rub their backs and try to comfort them and think about how you would feel if you were dropped off in Russia in the middle of the night and you didn't speak the language, then you had to go home with people you had never met."
Tom and Gigi's little girl wasn't on that plane.
Bob and Darcel's little boy wasn't either.
Maybe on the next plane, Knocke had said.
Meeting Katya
The second group of orphans arrived four nights later. This time there were six. "This is it," Melis announced.
So 18 of the 50 had made it. And 32 families who had waited all summer for their children were told they weren't coming. Not ever.
That night, at Tampa Airport, the orphans walked wearily past the shops, holding hands, shuffling beside their chaperone. They were wearing T-shirts printed with bugs, shorts, socks and sandals. Almost all of them had cropped hair. They weren't carrying any luggage. They only had the clothes they were wearing.
Timidly, clinging more tightly to each other, the children stared at the adults smiling around them. One little blond girl started to whimper. The older girl holding her hand put a finger to her lips. The little one sucked her thumb and tried not to cry. Two tears crawled down her pale cheeks.
The families formed a semicircle around the children and smiled and waved. Tom and Gigi searched the group for their little girl. "That must be her," Tom said, pointing to a dark-haired child with round eyes the color of sky.
"Ooh, she's a lot smaller than I thought," Gigi whispered. "She's so tiny for 8."
The little girl clasped her hands in front of her and studied her sandals. Gigi stepped toward her and hugged her gently. "We're so glad to see you, Katya. We're so glad you're here."
Then Tom and Paige and Grace introduced themselves. And on the way out of the airport, Paige and Grace each put an arm around their new little sister.
Homecoming
When Tom pulled into the driveway of their Wesley Chapel home, Katya's eyes opened wider. Gigi held her hand and led her inside. She showed the little girl her new room, the green-gingham bedspread, the pink bathing suits. Tom showed her their dachshund, Jasper.
The little girl blinked and nodded. She couldn't understand a word.
Gigi led her into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" she asked, making the motion for eating. "Thirsty?" she asked, drinking from an invisible cup.
Katya shook her head no.
"Chocolate milk? Would you like some chocolate milk?" Gigi asked. This time, Katya didn't shake her head. So Gigi poured some into a plastic cup. "Ooh," Gigi squealed. "I just want to squeeze her."
They discovered Katya likes strawberry Jell-O. She's not sure about cheddar Goldfish. "Are you sleepy?" Gigi asked, about 1:30 a.m. "Sleepy?" she repeated, folding her hands beside her right ear.
Katya shook her head no.
So Gigi showed her the parakeet and the plants and pictures on the walls. She showed her the bathroom. "Do you have to go?" she asked, pointing to the toilet. Katya blinked at her blankly.
Then, all of a sudden, the little girl brushed past Gigi and ran down the hall. She hid her head in her hands. She started sobbing.
"Oh, oh, oh. What's the matter? Goodness me," Gigi cooed, wrapping her arm around Katya. "You've been through too much. Oh my goodness."
Tom carried in the old rocker and placed it by the couch. Gigi cradled the little girl and rocked slowly. Katya burrowed her wet face into Gigi's shoulder. Her dirty socks dangled across Gigi's legs.
And Gigi sang a song her grandmother used to sing, "When I grow up in a year or two, I'll be happy as can be . . ."
Katya cried for more than an hour before Gigi called the interpreter. She put the little girl on the phone and let her talk to someone who could understand her. A half-hour later, Katya handed back the phone. She wiped her cheeks. She walked into her new bedroom and Gigi helped her put on her new nightgown.
Then Tom and Gigi tucked the little girl into her new bed and kissed her good night. Katya looked up at them with swollen eyes. And smiled.
Full drawers, empty hearts
Bob and Darcel's house is still too quiet. The turtle sandbox is still empty. The Wizard of Oz is waiting to be watched.
Bob says he's burned out on this foreign adoption route. If he and Darcel do travel to Russia to get the boy whose photo they fell in love with, it would cost about $30,000 - a good 50 percent more than he had budgeted. Domestic adoptions are much cheaper, he said. Plus the kid would speak English.
But Darcel is convinced the boy whose face she stares at every day is meant to be her son. She won't abandon him. "She's basing all of this on three paragraphs and a photo. She's going solely on emotion," Bob said. She said he's only looking at the economic side, and that money should be no object when it came to their child.
"We've gotten into some real heated arguments over this," Bob said. "There's just been so much tension for so many months.
"You've got 32 families around here who are just heartbroken."
Some nights after dinner, while Bob is on the porch smoking a cigar, Darcel creeps upstairs and opens the door of her little boy's darkened room. She sits on his bed. And she imagines him there in her lap, with his little hands wrapped around her neck, while she strokes his back softly and tells him how long they had been hoping, how long they had been waiting, for a little boy just like him.
