Finding love, before first sight

The Woonsocket Call, July 31, 2005

NORTH SMITHFIELD - Before they were married, Kevin and Paula Barnhart often talked about adopting. "I have two adopted cousins," Paula says, "and we liked the idea of giving a young child the unconditional love you're supposed to give them."

Even after the birth of their daughter, Katie, now 14, adoption still was a consideration.

What they didn't talk about was adopting twice. However, after a seven-year saga filled with unexpected events and a couple of odd coincidences, here they are as a family: Kevin, Paula, Katie and two youngsters from Russian orphanages, Anna, 10, and Steven Marat, 9.

"It's been a ride," Paula says of the adoption experience, "but I'd do it 100 times over again."

The story begins in March 1998 when those pre-marriage talks about adopting resurfaced. Through Adoption Rhode Island, in Pawtucket, the Barnharts connected with Wide Horizons For Children, a Waltham-based international adoption agency. In 2000 they were told about Marat, then a bright-eyed, blonde 3-year-old. They saw pictures, watched a video and fell in love.

They began working through the red tape of home inspections, financial reports, Bureau of Criminal Identification clearance and negotiations with the Russian Ministry of Education -- but in their hearts, they already had welcomed Marat into the family. They hung pictures of the little boy and made a Christmas tree ornament for him.

Everything seemed to be on track until exactly one week before Kevin and Paula were to leave for Russia. At the eleventh hour, Marat's birth mother wouldn't agree to an international adoption.

"She wanted to keep him in Russia," Paula recalls, reliving the disappointment.

They could have forced the adoption, but Kevin said, "We didn't want to be the ones to make someone terminate parental rights."

Not surprisingly, Wide Horizons had another child awaiting adoption, a pretty little girl who had been passed by, probably because she was "older." That was 5-year-old Anna.

This adoption went forward quickly and more smoothly, perhaps, than the next few months.

"When Anna came home, she had no idea what a house was, what a shower was, what a family is," Paula recalls. When a family friend welcomed her with a present, Anna ignored it, not understanding it was hers to keep.

On the other hand, whenever the family went out, even for a quick trip to the grocery store, Anna took all her possessions with her.

For the first three months, the whole family slept with a nightmare-prone Anna on mattresses on the floor, orphanage-style. For more than a year after that, Katie let Anna bunk with her.

Anna actually resisted parts of family life.

"No one took care of her there, so she didn't believe anyone would take care of her here," Paula says. Food was a particularly difficult issue, Paula remembers. "She'd eat yogurt, raw potato, raw onion. She liked eggs, but it took two years before she'd eat pizza."

On top of everything was the language barrier.

"I knew some basics, like 'Are you hungry?' or 'This isn't safe,'" Paula says, but not enough to explain all the new experiences.

Helping the Barnharts with the transition was Dr. Boris Skurkovich, director of the International Adoption Clinic at Hasbro Children's Hospital in Providence. Born and raised in Russia but a resident of the United States for 25 years, he speaks both languages, understands both cultures and has made international adoption a specialty. His clinic has become a resource for many adoptive families.

Skurkovich could talk with Anna in her own language -- and to the Barnharts about the baggage that comes with a child raised in an orphanage.

"Frequently children from orphanages have adjustments with attachment," he said, speaking in generalities during a telephone interview.

Children who have known only changing caretakers, varying with every shift, aren't prepared for two parents who love them 24/7.

Sensory deprivation may be an issue. "When you have a baby at home, you touch him, talk to him, expose him to stimuli, even different fabrics, different food. They go barefoot, play in the grass, in the water. If you don't expose children, they may have real trouble experiencing those things later in life," he said.

"Then there are behavioral issues. Life in the orphanage is survival of the fittest. The 'fittest' may be (the ones who are) a little demanding, real fighters, or real cute and smart and become favorites with the staff. When they get into a family ..it can wreck a family's life," he said.

Along with offering medical insight, Skurkovich could point the family to resources as helpful as a Russian store, another family with a Russian child -- and to psychologist Dr. Anna Azarian.

"When we had no idea, Dr. Anna was there to help with the transition, to start to build trust," Paula says.

Even as the Barnharts watched Anna grow into her new life, Marat was never out of their thoughts. They continued to note his birthday and hang his ornament on the Christmas tree.

But another project was demanding their attention. They decided to sell their North Providence home and move closer to Katie's school, Mount St. Charles Academy in Woonsocket, and Paula's work, as a senior client representative at Fidelity Investments in Smithfield. Kevin is a lieutenant at the Adult Correctional Institutions, Cranston.

An Internet search brought up the house in North Smithfield and, even though the four bedrooms made it bigger than they had wanted, two days later the Barnharts signed the purchase and sales agreement.

That was March 18, 2004, six years -- to the day -- after they had first contacted Adoption Rhode Island.

Within days of the closing, a newsletter from adoption agency Wide Horizons arrived.

"There was a picture on the front of older boys available for adoption, and one of them looked like Marat," Paula says, still a little breathless at the thought.

It was not Marat, but an inquiry revealed that the boy was still in the orphanage in Ufa, near Siberia, -- only now he was cleared for international adoption.

"But did we want to adopt an 8-year-old?" Paula and Kevin asked themselves.

"We really struggled," Paula says, "and the agency promised us they would find him a home."

But Kevin said, 'They can't do that. He's OUR son.'"

About the same time they realized their new house -- with its four bedrooms -- would be perfect.

The paperwork began all over again, and last February Kevin and Paula found themselves in a hotel in Ufa, preparing to meet Marat.

"I couldn't leave the room," Paula recalls, perhaps dealing with her own fears of being disappointed again.

Although Marat was aware of his impending adoption, when the Barnharts arrived at the orphanage, he wouldn't look at them. A chocolate bar broke the ice. They purposely talked about going to America in a way that gave him some control over the decision.

"If I go," he finally asked, "how many rooms are there in your house? How many televisions?

"Are you rich?"

Marat arrived in North Smithfield in April and the transitioning has begun again. He's been checked out by Dr. Skurkovich and has joined Anna in seeing him. With the help of the North Smithfield school department -- "which has been awesome," Paula says appreciatively -- Marat is taking English as a Second Language classes.

Integration is more than language, however, and when the Barnharts asked him recently how he liked his new home, Marat told them it was just a nicer orphanage.

The Barnharts volunteer that information undaunted, because they know everything is still new for Marat. This year, however, Marat will hang his own ornament on the Christmas tree, and he will be present for his birthday party.

And if anyone is considering following in the Barnharts' footsteps, Paula has a few words of advice.

"Be flexible.

"Have a strong heart. You might not get the child you think you should have, and they can bring baggage with them.

"But you won't regret it."

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