Thursday

Green Light Go!--Russia Adoption of a Child with Hearing Impairment

When Hans Denis Graser was born, he was delivered with fluid in his lungs. Doctors in Russia diagnosed pneumonia and administered the appropriate antibiotic treatment. The drug’s effective dose was to be given over a period of time gradually, but in error the drug’s full dose was given all at once. In little Hans, the resulting action caused nerve deafness.

As is the custom for orphans in his region, Hans stayed in a baby hospital his first year, completely deaf and unable to hear. Ninety-nine percent of his life was spent in his crib and the little boy was given one diaper change a day. Upon graduation from the baby hospital, Hans moved to a “baby house” where he was unlikely to be adopted. His caretakers labeled him severely deaf and developmentally delayed.

“I’ve always thought Special Needs strictly meant mentally and physically handicapped kids,” says Heidi Graser, new mom to adorable “Jack” a.k.a. Hans Denis Graser.

“When I found out Russia considers deafness, cleft lip and cleft palate, burns, and things of that nature as special needs, I thought, ‘Those are not special needs! Those are fixable, workable maladies.’”

As a single prospective mother, Heidi took all this into consideration. Although it would mean additional personal attention, the more minor special needs Heidi felt she can handle. She applied to Children’s Hope International on December 1, 2005, choosing her country, region, age range, and the special needs she was open to. Her main goal—to find the one child with the slimmest chances of finding a home. She told her adoption coordinator, “I’m very well traveled. Send me where people don’t want to go because it is too far away.” She had the place—Vladivostok, nine hours by plane from Moscow.

Within the region she selected, Jack was the only child under 3 years of age afflicted with any of the special needs she was open to.

For Russia, you travel twice: once to see the child and verify your decision to adopt; the second, to attend court and finalize the process. Heidi began her first trip on April 13. Before leaving she took every single day, thinking, “Do I go or not go.”

“It wasn’t so much, ‘Is he right for me?’ but ‘Am I right for him?’”

Although she hoped it would not be necessary, knowing she had options was a great relief; if she and Jack were not a match, she could always return to the States and await another referral.

“I was prepared for Jack to be stone cold deaf. I had to get into that mental state before I traveled on that first trip.” What if it was more than she could handle? Would it matter if he could never hear her? What if the orphanage did not disclose his entire medical history and his development delay was due to another cause?

Heidi had never known anyone with a hearing impairment. Filled with doubt she consulted her adoption coordinator, family and friends. Talking through it got Heidi through it.

“We’d set up a pro and con list. He might just need hearing aids or implants, and we can always use sign language. We always had one or two positives to knock out the negatives.” Heidi explains, “You have to wrap your mind around it. My sister is pregnant right now, high risk. And I realized I could’ve given birth to a child with a hearing impairment or a child with a cleft lip. Would I love them any less? No, of course not, he or she would still be my child.”

In her first couple of days in Moscow, Heidi was overwhelmed with how to communicate with Jack. When he looked in her eyes and she in his, she saw there was no need to worry.

On the third day, after holding him emotionally at arms length, Heidi fell under Jack’s spell. Five months later she returned and took him home as her son.

“It’s so much easier than I ever thought it would be. That I was scared to even go meet him...seems silly now. It was the fear of the unknown.”

Now Heidi knows the unspeakable joy a child can bring. Tears well up in her eyes when she speaks of how Jack loves her. Communication is no problem. “He talks to me; he tells me what he wants. We communicate with looking in each other’s eyes, giving hugs, with kisses and pointing.

“Seeing a smile on his face is the best action without words. That’s how he says, ‘You’re mine.’”

Developmentally, Jack caught up quickly when given personal attention. Although his caregivers in Russia meant well, they never knew his potential. Jack is already developmentally on track with other kids his age.

Heidi’s pediatrician referred her to a multitude of resources for a child with special needs including home care, special tutors, First Steps, and Parents as Teachers. Jack now attends the St. Joseph Institute for the Deaf in St. Louis and sees professionals in audiology and ENT.

By the time Jack came home, Heidi had studied sign language. Jack picked up many words within their first month together. At first he stumbled down the stretch of her hallway, but now Jack runs giggling. After three months at home, he has been fitted for hearing aids in both ears.

“When they put the hearing aids in I wasn’t expecting him to hear anything. Snapping fingers, water—every little bit that he can hear is like a miracle to me.”

These aids work in preparation for the cochlear implants he will receive by April or May of 2007, the all important surgery which will effectively replace the nerve that was damaged upon his birth. Amazingly, Jack’s surgery is covered 100% by Heidi’s insurance and her employer is covering all deductibles.

Jack will have the opportunity to be everything he is meant to be.

“I’m looking forward to the day when Jack calls me ‘Momma’, but when that kid comes running across the room to give me a kiss, holding both sides of my face—that is better than any “Momma” word ever. We share a bond that is unbreakable.”

--Heidi Graser, MO
Written by Jennifer Newcomb, Children's Hope Communications Coordinator