Arriving outside Antoshka, the knot in my stomach began to untwist. The only reference I had of an orphanage was the musical Annie; this place was no set from Annie. The outside courtyard wall that surrounded the place was made of brick and mortar. In another place, in another time, and with some imagination, the grounds and building would be rather charming with its semi, art-deco design made from different palette brick. It had small castle-like turrets standing at its corners, as if they were keeping watch and charged with protecting the precious treasure it housed within.

We exited the small, green Yugo of a taxi and entered through the walls of the courtyard. Once inside, my stomach continued to churn as the walls and turrets revealed their secrets. The ground was mostly bare of grass but where grass did grow it fought for sunlight with its neighboring, taller weeds. I didn’t recognize most of the metal structures scattered about the grounds, aside from a broken swing set. There were metal crib-like structures secured to the earth, I gave my mother a look—they couldn’t possibly put children in those? She was just as puzzled and dismayed by the sight of this playground of sorted metal.

We climbed the concrete steps and entered through the tall, heavy double-doors. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim and dingy morning light and another moment to take the place in. The smells were as foreign to me as this land and its people. It was nearly 9:00 in the morning, Eastern Ukrainian time, and we found the place to be eerily quiet. We're inside an orphanage, called the House of Baby, that housed nearly 200 children and we could not hear one sound. We were met and welcomed by a woman who ushered us down a long hallway. We followed her and the path of worn fifties linoleum, peeling and cracking paint, and the dim lighting that lined the hallway. We passed several empty rooms before we were motioned to enter one of them. It was a large room with very tall ceilings, sparse furniture, maybe a few chairs, an administrator's desk, and some filing cabinets. A few minutes later we met the director, Dr. Anatoly Ramanov, he asked us a few questions through our interpreter, Olga. He seemed very nice, caring, genuine but only as capable as his environment allowed to provide for the nearly 200 children he was responsible for.

Olga explained that they were going to go get the baby and we would meet him. My anxiety was through the roof. I felt hot, flushed. My heart was racing. I wasn't sure what to expect, what I would see, how I would feel. Time seemed to be an eternity waiting those minutes; it had been a very long day. The days events raced through my head, we'd only been in the country less than 24 hours and here we were miles from where we entered the country in a smaller town near its eastern boarder and western boarder of Russia waiting inside this vast room with no sound, strange smells and possibly meet my baby boy.

The door opened, I held my breath as a nurse came in carrying the little guy. His eyes scanned the room and I caught my breath as our eyes met for the first time. A few butterflies released themselves inside me as I unnoticeably shook from excitement. She walked towards us with him, our eyes still locked upon each other. There was recognition in those eyes. A knowing. I knew. He knew. I reached for him and through our interpreter, they warned he wasn't accustomed to men. He didn't resist.  His eyes never left mine. I sat down with him on my lap. He was so small. Not quite an infant, not quite a toddler. His big, grayish brown eyes set deep in his little face were trying to seek answers. His brittle blond hair, pale skin and layers of clothes didn't do much to hide his condition. "Hi," I softly said, cupping his hand which held a small toy truck. Without hesitation, he smiled a big smile revealing the cutest dimple I'd ever seen on such a tiny, young boy. My heart melted and I was assured this union that was eighteen months in the making was meant to be. I laughed releasing the nervous excitement as the little boy on my lap laughed a smile too. We both knew. Before handing him back off to the nurse, I leaned in to kiss him. He pulled away a little but I gave him a small squeeze as I stole a quick kiss upon his head. I would be back.