After a period of questions and answers with the Director/Doctor of the orphanage, we were off to take the baby for her photos for her passport and papers.  Now, bundling was the word for sure in Russia.   The orphanage workers wrapped her in so many layers of clothing, and blankets that when they were done, we could just see two little bright blue eyes and a button nose, looking out at us in a gaze of pure assessment.

Off to our adoption paperwork chase we went next... Sailing along had become too easy.  So the snag in the story was about to come.   We were stopped twice by the Yaroslavl police and pulled over.  They were extremely intimidating and loud.  Each time the police indicated that our driver's commercial license did not "look right" to them and no matter what our driver told them they were not satisfied until $50 (U.S.) was provided them.

Then, miracle of miracles, the license became valid and off we could go!  This did not faze our coordinator and translators.  With our photos in hand, we returned our daughter to the orphanage but hated to let her go; while at the same time remembering our "heartbreak" or "frost break" hotel made us glad that the baby would have a warm bed that night.   At this point, we were clearly on emotional overload but so in love with our "bundle".

Next stop, the Court: The judge was an attractive woman, but stern.  There was a prosecutor and education official present who gave their determination as to our fitness and whether they approved of the placement. Our translator interpreted for us.  After a reading of the case by the judge, the questions began.

My husband received the brunt of the interrogatories but I was so proud of his heartfelt answers.  At the end of the formal questioning, the judge asked Rich, "why after four children would you adopt another man's child, when in Russia, many women have problems getting a man to raise his own child?"  Rich explained that he would consider this child, "his child."  The Court then went into recess for the judge to deliberate.  Upon return, the judge ordered that the adoption be granted and all parties embraced each other with a great happiness and tears flowed as well.

That night back at the hotel, our translator and coordinator, had champagne delivered to our table to celebrate.   Boy, did the somewhat serious coordinator become a person of fun and colorful stories...it was a night of exchanges and music.  And we were no longer cold to be sure!  We went to bed somewhat tipsy and happy with the knowledge that on the morrow we would leave for Moscow with our longed for daughter.