Forever ours

	ALSO
The characters

By John Towriss
Special to CNN.com

Web posted: November 21, 2001

ASTANA, Kazakhstan (CNN) -- The sun was just setting over the northern Kazakh steppe when Judge Daulen Balykov furrowed his brow and let out a deep sigh. Then he slammed shut the thick folder of documents that detailed every fact about Carole and me and peered out over his wire-rim glasses - straight at me.

As his eyes bored into mine, I searched his face for a hint of his decision. Nothing.

Next he turned to Carole, and then to the education ministry official, who just minutes before, had passionately presented our petition to the court. Lastly, his gaze swept by the government prosecutor who had questioned us about important legal requirements before making her final recommendation. It was up to the judge now. We'd done all we could do.

Nothing moved; the courtroom was silent, the drama in the air palpable. Then finally this pronouncement (translated from the Russian): "John and Carole, let me be the first to congratulate the mother and father of your new children!"

And with those simple words, Dara Kay and John Wesley forever took their special place on the Towriss family tree. The dam burst open and emotions gushed -- hugs and handshakes. It would be the first installment in an evening dripping with such feeling.

As each member of our adoption group went before the court only to return glowing in his or her own time of celebration, it suddenly occurred to me how directly the judge's words spoke to the heart of adoption.

Being a "mother" or "father" has so little to do with reproductive biology and so much to do with sobering responsibility. It's less about preparing nurseries with cribs and rockers and more about preparing hearts with courage and commitment

In fact, I can find no difference between the love required for a son or daughter who carries my blood and one who does not. Maybe we should just stop making the distinction.

On my first adoption, I harbored a deep fear that I would be unable to love my adopted daughter as much as I loved my biological child. I know different now. For me, the miracle occurred the moment I first saw my adopted daughter and realized my heart had been equally seized by both my girls.

I've bear-hugged the doctor who just delivered my baby and the judge who gaveled me the same, and the feelings and exhilaration are equally spectacular.

If you could only see the faces around me right now, you'd understand.

THE DOSSIER

The thick folder of documents reviewed by the judge in Carole and John Towriss' double-adoption of Johnny and Dara is the case dossier. It's the collection of authenticated documents that go to the children's original country. These documents are typically used by the overseeing authorities of the host country to gauge your financial security, health, housing suitability, emotional preparedness and any others factors regarding your ability to parent a child adopted from that nation. Readying the dossier is the bureaucratic part of the process and can take longer than the referral and retrieval of the child if not pursued with some dispatch. Good adoption agencies will assist parents in preparing the dossier and may even take care of its transmission and filing in the host country.

While it varies from country to country, a dossier typically includes:

Birth certificates of parents and any other children in the home.

Marriage license of parents (and any divorce decrees).

A letter from your employer confirming salary and employment dates.

Results of criminal background checks.

Pictures of your family and home.

Passport information.

Certificate of assets and other financial information.

Reference letters.

Medical reports on all persons living in the home.

The home study report, which is written by licensed social worker after reviewing:

Reports of several visits with you, some at your home.

References from 3 or 4 people who are not related to you and who have known you for many years.

Tax returns and net-worth statements.

Medical reports.

Safety reports from the fire department and county sanitation department.

Fingerprints and police clearances, by local and state authorities and the FBI.

Autobiographies written by both parents.

For most countries, each document must be authenticated. In countries belonging to The Hague Convention, this means each document is first notarized, then certified at the county level, then "apostilled" at the state level. An apostille is a seal is placed on the document, one that will be recognized in the country where the document will be used.

But now the race is on for our group of seven adopting parents. Logistics drive us now because if in the next two hours we don't complete a number of important steps culminating in making the last plane to Almaty, we'll ultimately have little chance to make our flights home to the United States in time for Thanksgiving -- a driving goal for all of us.

At a government office in which we're to get our children's birth certificates, a 50-something bureaucrat surprises us by calling individually for the "mama " and "papa" of each child. With a smile and a handshake she presents the birth certificate. On examination, we realize our own names are filled in as the "Mothers" and "Fathers."

Once finished, she gathers us in a circle and implores, "Know that today, you take a part of Kazakhstan's soul with you. And I wish you and your children my very best." We are touched by this heartwarming act from someone connected to our stories in the smallest of ways. Then finally, we dash to the children's house, the orphanage, for the last time. Oh, boy.

We'll clothe and take our children away tonight but it's not so easy. The level of care and love is so great here that attachments inevitably form. Like 22-year-old Kazagul, who had told me of her fondness for little Dara. She tells me she's happy that Dara will have a home and family but her moist eyes tell me she will miss her deeply. Carole and I are so grateful for this "gift" to our daughter from this young nurse.

This scene is repeated throughout the building as we gather our children. Even the chief doctor who has witnessed this moment dozens of times stays late in the evening, stands at the door and blinks back the tears. Wrenching.

We'll make it, intact, to the airport and to Almaty after midnight with our children, but as the orphanage shrinks from view the bittersweet feelings overwhelm us. Gazing heavenward I can't help but think that if, as one said, this is God's work, then his angels stay very busy here. God bless them.

John Towriss has been with CNN for 21 years, a journalist covering stories the world over. He is deputy bureau chief and director of news coverage in CNN's Washington bureau. Towriss can be reached at TOWRISS@aol.com


Carole Towriss holds Dara and John Towriss holds Johnny in this new family photo taken at the children's house, just before leaving for the last time.


And the feeling is returned.