Off to Romania to pick up our son Victor. He had been in an orphanage since he was 6 months old. He was now 6 ½ years old. I was nervous the entire flight. Our oldest child, at home, was only 4 ½ years old and I wasn't sure what to expect with an older child. I had only been a mom for a short time.

I arrived in Bucharest, Romania on Sunday evening. My driver, Nelu, was very nice and knew a good amount of English, what a relief. He drove me to the apartment I was to stay in, which was right next door to his apartment. I felt much better knowing he was near. I was not staying with a host family, as I did in Russia, when I traveled to pick up our son Dant. The apartment was quite big and clean. Nelu's wife made me some dinner and told me to get some sleep. We would be leaving for the airport at 5 am to go to Oradea, Romania, where my son was. I couldn't sleep. I watched the kids outside apartment building for a while, watched some TV and then decided to prepare my bags for the trip tomorrow. I had brought one suitcase of donations, from the agency I was adopting through, to give to the orphanage director. I set it by the door. It was so hard to close at home, I was afraid to open it. I had a small sport bag for my stuff and a Batman backpack for Victor. I had brought some toys for him and decided to divide them into 2 piles. One, I took with me to give to Victor when I met him, the other I would have here in the apartment for him when we got back. Then I picked out the outfit he would wear when we left the orphanage. Finally, I tried to sleep.

I was up about 30 minutes before Nelu came to get me. We drove to the airport and as we drove I drilled Nelu for some translations. "How do you say...." How are you, good, etc. I had learned a few key phrases, but now I had a translator! I wrote it all our as he said it. Then we sat in the airport parking lot and practiced pronunciation. It was a pretty easy language, similar to Spanish.

The flight to Oradea was about an hour and 15 minutes long, in a frightening looking aircraft. Landed and waited for our luggage to come off the plane. Got a taxi and we were off! The town was much larger than I thought in would be. The area around the town was farm land. Romania is very green! We started down a really bad dirt road and stopped next to a vine covered chain link fence. The driver helped me carry my suitcases and we went through the gate and into the director's office. As she walked in, she looked happy to see us. It was me and another couple. I gave her the donation suitcase and some photos I had brought from some families who had adopted from there. She was so happy to see the kid's pictures, almost like a grandmother would look at them.

The director had us wait on the front steps of the administration building. Really loud music was blasting and I looked across a large courtyard at a one story building where the music was coming from. There were about 30 little kids, dancing on the porch of the building. I thought it was sort of neat, until the music stopped and the kids kept moving. They weren't dancing, they were rocking. Almost all of them were rocking back and forth. It was really sad. A little boy came running up. His name was Norbi. He had come to check me out for his friend Victor. Then he gave me a smile and a nod and ran back to the building. I scanned the line of kids, looking for mine. I didn't see him.

A nurse, with a boy and girl in hand, came walking over from the building we had been staring at. It was Victor and a little girl named Ebby, whom my sister would be traveling to get in a couple of months. Victor looked so small! His skin was much darker than I thought it would be. He was all dressed up. He looked like a waiter, wearing a long sleeve white shirt and black pants that were about 3 sizes too big for him. The nurse let go of his hand and I started down the steps. He came running up to me and I picked him up and told him I loved him. He was smiling. I carried him a few steps and he wanted to get down. He knew what the parents bring in their bags, CANDY. He grabbed my bag and proceeded to open it and take things out. I gave him a big fire engine that made noises and he ran back to the group of children to show them. I felt like the Santa instead of the mom. I didn't see Victor again until about 45 minutes later.

The director took us to a conference like room and we waited for the kids to brought to us. Victor came in, dressed in a different outfit now, shorts and a shirt. He had his best friend, Norbi, with him and they went straight to my bag again. I had brought some chewy granola bars and within about an hour both boxes were devoured by Victor and Norbi. My camera was the next thing of interest to them. They were grabbing at it and jumping up to snatch it out of my hands. I knew how to say no in Romanian, but it didn't do much to stop them. I tried to sit down with Victor but he was all over the room. It was not going to happen at this point. I gave him his other toys and he left again to show the other kids.

I followed him this time. I walked over to the group of children in the courtyard and porch areas. I saw my sister's little girl rocking back and forth in a chair. I picked her up and held her for a while. She immediately stopped rocking and smiled at me. I rubbed her back and her legs and talked to her. Showed her a picture of her new mom and dad. After a while, I put her down because I was now surrounded by children. I held each one for about 5 minutes. It was really depressing, but I felt I had to do it. They needed it. Victor was way to busy for me at the time. Eventually I had to peel the kids off me and return to the conference room. It was hot out and I was tired. Victor came back in later and sat on my lap, briefly.

The social worker came and told me about how Victor ended up here. His father died the year he was born. His mother had 4 other children at home and Victor became ill shortly after he was born. He had a breathing problem. She took him to the hospital and left him there. At the age of 6 months he went into the orphanage and has been here ever since. I asked if they might have any pictures of Victor when he was a baby. She left and returned with a strip of passport type photos of Victor when he was about 2 ½, possibly taken for an adoption that had fallen through. I am so glad I thought to ask that. Those are priceless!

The nurses came to gather Victor and the other couple's twins for lunch and nap time. We left for lunch too. The only reason we had to stay around in Oradea was because the only returning flight to Bucharest wasn't until 7 p.m. that night. We ate lunch in town and returned two hours later. Again, Victor appeared wearing a completely different outfit and he smelled terrible. I hadn't been close enough, long enough to really smell him. He stunk! He smelled like pee, but it was like his whole body had been dipped in urine. I had our lawyer/translator smell him and she told the staff that he would have to have a bath before we left. They agreed and he left again. It was nearing the time to leave. It was time to get him dressed in his new clothes I had brought for him. He was told to strip and he did. He had on girl's panties! He got dressed and again ran away to show his friends and the staff. I followed again. He gave his friend, Norbi the fire engine I had given him. I told Norbi he could keep it. I was very impressed that Victor would give away something he was given.

As he was showing off the new duds, I walked through the building he grew up in. The main room had some beaten up, old dirty toys on shelves, a little playhouse and some chairs. The next room was filled with cribs, bigger cribs than the ones in the US. It smelled like urine and mildew. The next room was the bathroom. It smelled so bad I almost threw up. I actually had to quickly walk back to the conference room to sit down. The bathroom area was so nasty. It was so filthy and looked like it had never been cleaned. There were flies and roaches all over.

It was finally time to go. All day, Victor had been asking me when we were going to leave. He kept telling everyone that it was time to go. We told him later...we're leaving later today. When they told him, it's time to go now, he became very scared and stated walking backwards out of the room. He walked backwards all the way down the hall and out of the building. We followed him and he was standing with one of his nurses, crying. She told him that I was his mom and I'd come to take him home. He did not want to go. I didn't know what to do. A group of staff members began trying to convince him, reassure him, that it would be OK. One of his favorite caregivers took him by the hand and walked him towards the gate where the taxis were waiting. She had some of his friends come with as a little support group. They were all saying, "you'll be OK, Victor." About 30 feet before the gate, Victor started crying and screaming and dropped to the ground. His friends were escorted back to their area and everyone tried to console him. I kept telling him, in Romanian, that I loved him and don't be scared, etc. He didn't even look at me. I stood there thinking, now what am I supposed to do. Then our lawyer said we had to leave now, what is the problem. I told her that Victor didn't want to go. She had words with the director and a doctor. The doctor wanted me to leave Victor here and come back for him the next day. The lawyer told her to forget it and that Victor is coming with us now. I asked her what I was supposed to do, drag him to the car kicking and screaming. She said yes. I squatted down in front of him, told him I loved him and that we are going home now, don't be scared. I picked him up and started towards the car. He started slapping and hitting me in the face. It was really hard to hold him because he was struggling so hard. I carried him kicking and screaming to the taxi. He was screaming that he wasn't leaving with Norbi, his best friend. As I walked through the gate, Victor grabbed hold of the gate. It was chain link. One of the taxi drivers came to help me pry his fingers off the fence. The minute we got one hand off he'd grab a hold again. I ended up, walking as hard as I could, using my weight to make him let go, away from the fence and Victor let go. Getting into the car was the same struggle. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and the driver slammed the door shut. The doctor appeared with 2 pills for me to give to Victor. They were Phenobarbital. YIKES! I didn't give them to him.

On the way to the airport, the driver spoke to Victor, trying to calm him down. Victor kept asking is we were coming back and the driver told him yes. It was the only way. He seemed calmer as we drove into the airport parking lot. The minute I opened the door, he bolted out and I had to chase him and pick him up again.

Victor calmed down a bit inside the airport. I had bought him a snack and a juice and it occupied him. We played with some wind up cars and things were fine, until we had to board the flight. Victor tried to run out of the airport and I had to pick him up and restrain him again. Inside the plane, he kicked and screamed when I put the seat belt on him. He ended up sitting with the lawyer, not me. He got better as we got closer to Bucharest.

Our driver picked us up and took us back to the apartment. His wife had cooked dinner for us and Victor ate everything on his plate. It was late when we finished and I gave him his pajamas. When I took him to the bedroom, which had a queen bed and a crib in it, he climbed into the crib. I forgot he'd been sleeping in a crib for 6 years. I told him he could sleep in the big bed if he wanted and he did. He looked so scared and alone. I sat next to him and rubbed his back and kissed his head. A few minutes passed and he wanted me to stop touching him. So I left. I went back in later and slept next to him. He didn't move all night. Tuesday morning came and Victor was checking out his new clothes and toys. I noticed from the condition of his underwear, that he does wipe himself. The toileting skills were very un hygienic and sloppy. The morning went well for Victor, but I became very ill. I had a high fever and was throwing up all day. I think it was from holding all those kids at the orphanage. Most of them looked ill. Then Victor grew bored of being indoors and started trying to get the door open. I said no and he began the trantruming deal. He would chant for a while..."outside", "outside!", as he rocked back and forth and bit the back of his hand.

His behavior for the remainder of the trip was horrible. He spit on me, peed on me, hit me, scratched me, ran from me and laughed at me.

The driver told me that he was a very bad child. The lawyers said they could take him back if I don't want him. I said, "I'll keep him." He just didn't know that I was in charge and I think it was the language problem too. When he would do something really bad I would swat his behind. Time-out didn't do anything, I mean, he's been in time-out his whole life!

The rest of my trip is a blur. I was either restraining or chasing the boy. He climbed all over the US embassy. Grabbed one of the guard's machine guns! At the Colentina Hospital, he ran from me and stood with the drivers. The woman in the embassy, who did my interview, asked me if I was sure that I wanted him.

I went to the airport on Friday morning with Victor in tow. He seemed to know we were leaving forever. He stayed by me and was very good as we waited in the lines and got on the plane. It's when I put a seat beat on him...he started screaming and fighting me. He did not want the seat belt on. I waited to put it on him until the last second possible. His behavior on the plane was OK, made our connection in Amsterdam, then he turned into a psycho again! He was climbing over seats, hitting not only me, but other people, throwing things and when he ran out of stuff to throw he threw his shoes. People were not happy with him. The flight attendants wanted him in his seat and no where else. I sat on Victor for 8 hours of the 11 hour flight. He put his fingernails into my arms so deep I was bleeding. I had a swollen eye. It was pure hell. I couldn't handle it anymore. The other passengers wanted him dead. I finally shoved one of the pills, his doctor had given me, down his throat. Crossed my fingers and Victor fell asleep about an hour later. I too felt the need to rest, after I went to the rest room to wash my wounds. The minute we landed at LAX Victor was calm. He switched from a crazy/violent child to a little puppy that never strayed. I don't know what happen during his 3 hours of sleep on the plane, but he didn't behave the way he had been anymore.