A Waiting Game

Posted on May 3, 2011 by mward

Margaret & Tom relaxing in Florida

A year ago in May, I was thrilled to learn that the University of Texas Press had decided to publish my book about our story in their Louann Atkins Temple Women and Culture series. Last summer I got the manuscript into final form. The book was shortened slightly while I formatted it in a certain way for the editing process. Nelson was a huge help to me, as I also needed to scan some family photos to a high standard so that they could be included in the book.

After the book was copy edited, I had to review it all again in early November and respond to the copy editor’s questions about all kinds of details. Then in December, Tom, Derek, Nelson and I “triangulated” with folks in the editorial and marketing departments at the press about the title. We knew that the book needed a subtitle that would contain the most important search terms, but we didn’t all agree on what those words should be. After a flurry of emails, we finally all agreed on Missing Mila, Finding Family: An International Adoption in the Shadow of the Salvadoran Civil War.

In March I was sent the page proofs. I was excited to be able to get my first sense of what the book will actually look like, a 6 ½ by 9 ½ inch paperback of about 280 pages. But I still had not heard anything about the cover design. I was getting anxious. I wanted a certain picture of Mila as a teenager to be used on the cover, but the design process was up to the art department and out of my hands. Finally, just when Nelson was in El Salvador in late March the Editor in Chief sent me the mock-up. You can imagine how nervous I was to see what they had created. Tom, and Derek were standing right behind me, looking over my shoulder at the computer screen as I opened the file to get our first peek. As the editor put it, “ the designer managed to accommodate [my] dreams for the cover in a very successful and sophisticated yet accessible look. “ It is going to be beautiful.

I get asked almost every day now, “When will it be out?” “How can I get a copy?” While my work is now done–going over the page proofs to catch last little mistakes and creating an index–we’re still only in the seventh inning stretch. My book’s spot in their printing queue is in late October. For those who can’t wait, you can pre-order late this summer at the press’s website. Specifics will follow!

Video From My Interview With My Parents About My Adoption: Enjoy!

Posted on June 1, 2010 by dewittn

On Sunday I interviewed my parents about what they went through to adopt me. They shared how they were just beginning the adoption process when a mysterious phone call changed their lives forever.

Please feel free to leave questions or comments. We have already received a few and we will do our best to answer all of them!

You’re Invited! Join Us As We Celebrate 27 Years of Adoption

Posted on May 26, 2010 by dewittn

You’re invited to join us as we celebrate adoption day and 27 years of being together Sunday May 30th at 7:00pm on our Facebook Fan Page.

We’ll be broadcasting from our home in New Hampshire and sharing our memories and thoughts on adoption. We will be sharing our memories, talking about larger adoption issues and answering your questions.

Details here: http://bit.ly/apGybN

We will have some major announcements about the book soon. Join our journey and we’ll keep you updated with the latest news. http://eepurl.com/mlQr

Derek’s First Post

Posted on July 20, 2007 by dewittdw

Okay, so Nelson/Roberto has been getting on my case to actually contribute here. I promised I would in January, but then I got into my last semester of college and things were crazy and hectic. But I digress. For those who don’t know me, my name is Derek, and I am Nelson’s brother. My biological parents are his adoptive parents. I was born on May 30, 1985, two years to the day after my parents took him from the orphanage in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

For this post I’ll deal with the beginning, at least the beginning for me. Obviously I knew from early on that Nelson was ‘different’ and my parents explained to him and I as best they could about who he was and what they knew, which wasn’t much. At that age, it doesn’t really matter. Family is family. Nelson was and is my brother in every meaning of the word. He has always looked out for me and I knew that he cared. We were very close, even though he was four years older than me.

My brother has already written about the night when he found out that he had family looking for him, so I won’t repeat the basic events. I don’t remember any other time, before or since, that my parents sounded so serious when they mentioned that they needed to talk with us after dinner. Right now I’m sitting no more than thirty feet from where I was that night, and I can still remember the look on my their faces and on my brother’s. Obviously, when you hear those words as a kid, you think about divorce and my parents were quick to explain that that was not the reason for this talk. In hindsight, Nelson is right to say that it didn’t make sense, but as I will reiterate later, the first thoughts of a 12 year-old on anything are not always rational.

As they explained the situation, I probably must have turned as white as a sheet, which is impressive for me considering my normal pallor. My first thought was that now that Nelson’s real family had found him, they would want him to live with them and I would never see him again. Looking back, it sounds silly, but I really felt scared for a bit that I would lose my brother forever.

Pretty soon, it will have been ten years since that night and instead of losing a brother, I’ve gained an entire second family. I can understand the apprehension that somebody might feel in this situation. I experienced a lot of new things and it wasn’t always easy, but I’m glad now that it happened. Everyone has been so welcoming, from the very first letters that our parents read to us that night through all of the visits and the other correspondence I have never once felt like an outsider, always like a member of the family. That’s enough for now, I’ll relate some of my other thoughts later.

Moving out of the house I lived in for 19 years

Posted on June 27, 2007 by dewittn

Today I moved out of my the house I have been living in for 19 years. Its an odd feeling to see the room that you most of your life growing up in empty. As I walked around the house a flood of memories came back from various parts of my child hood. I have so many memories both good and bad here. More good than bad. Part of me will miss it and part of me won’t. I know that everything changes. No matter how hard we try to fight everything will change.

I still have a vague memory of driving up to the house for the first time. I remember looking out of the car window at the stone wall fence across the street. As we drove by my parents said “here we are.” I remember having a funny feeling as I looked up at the house. I had a funny feeling again this morning as I drove up to the house for what might be the last time. This was a different feeling however. I can’t describe but it was strange looking up into what has been my room for the past 19 years and knowing probably would never see it again.

Its strange to think how much has changed in our lives since we moved there. When I moved in I was just starting the first grade. Now I am all grown and on my own. Half the time I spent there I had no idea I had family looking for me. The other half I spent visiting them.

I find the way people deal with change interesting. So many people are afraid and fight it. But change is like a the great river of life. You can try as hard as you want to stop the river or swim against the current but it does no good. You will most likely drown. However I think the thing we forget is that we need change…we demand it. Its a tricky situation however. We change too much and we lose ourselves. We don’t change enough and we become board and lazy.

In the end I guess this is a good thing. In order to be our best we need to forget everything we know and start over. so now…I will start over.

My thoughts on the Virginia Tech shootings

Posted on April 17, 2007 by dewittn

I thought I would take a sec a reflect on yesterdays events. I know its a little off topic for this blog but at the same time I think its important and its been on my mind.

Last night I was watching news coverage on the events and they had this “expert” from NY talking about how this should have been handled like a terrorist attack. He was saying that the school should have been shut down right away as soon as the first bullets were fired.

That’s easy to say now. I’m sure the school responded as they thought was appropriate. I don’t think it handling it like a terrorist attack is the right thing to do either. Just look at what happened here in Boston a few months ago with the bomb scare. The city of Boston over reacted and created a huge mess.

My dad was, right Americans need to blame someone. I think blaming the school it to easy. In these situation you can ALWAYS do something better that MIGHT have saved more lives. But really there is no way for the school to know that this guy was going to start shooting people. Its not there fault he went psycho.

If you must blame someone blame this coward to senselessly attacked people and then took the easy way out by killing himself. I can just see it now. There is going to be an investigation into Virgina tech to see what when wrong.

I’m sure the school could have done something a little better but this guy was determined to kill people. He had it planned out. He chained the doors and had spare clips. I mean how do you plan for something like that? You can’t and trying to have some plan in place for an event like this isn’t going to help either.

What are you going to do have everyone in every school walk through a medal detector? No you train for the worst and pray it never happens. Its a tragedy and its horrible but sadly these things happen and they happen all over the world.

In fact I find it interesting that we as Americans are so upset about this when these things happen everyday in Darfur. If 33 people were killed in a tiny African village would anyone care?

I don’t really have a point. I just think the whole thing sucks. Its sad that these thing happen both here and around the world. My heart goes out to the family and students.

One a side not this is a pretty bad week in modern American history. Things that happened this week:

Columbine Shooting – April 20th 1999
Oklahoma Bombing – April 19th, 1995
Woca Texas Fire – April 19th, 1993

I’m not suggesting there is a connection its just interesting that they happened around the same time.

A letter from my father – by Nelson/Roberto

Posted on April 4, 2007 by dewittn

November 1997

Its 6:15 pm and its already dark out. I just got back from school and I’m the first one home. I dash up to my room and drop my bag. I fire up the computer and head back downstairs to get something to drink. As I go to the turn on the outside lights I bend over and pick up the mail. On my way back to the kitchen I start to go through it. Bill, bill, junk mail…but whats this?

Tossing the rest of the mail on the counter I’m starring down at a letter addressed to Roberto Coto form a Luis Coto. Its a letter from my father… When we got the original package from Probusqueda there was only letters from my aunt and grandmother. I take a second to look at it before opening it. Its three pages of neatly written cursive. I frown for a second. It all in Spanish and I can’t read any of it.

I head back up to my room letter in hand. Half an hour later my dad yells from downstairs “I’m home”

“Hi” I reply making my way out into the hall.

“How was your day?” he questions

“I got a letter from my dad.” I say excitedly

My adoptive father would tell me later these words made his heart sink because for 15 years he was the only one I called dad. There is a pause…”What does it say?”

“I’m not sure its all in Spanish”

Over dinner I show my parents the letter. My mom suggests that she could have one of her colleagues translate the letter for us. I tell her that I think some of my friend at school could translate it too.

The next day I stuff the letter in my bag as I head out the door. As I’m ride in on the T I stare at it I try to figure out what it says. All I can make out is “Dear Roberto,” So I just sit there staring out the window. I always sit in the the very first seat on the train. It has a window all to its self and I can get off the train quicker. I’ve made this 15 minuet trip for the past four years but today it seams endless. My leg is shaking in anticipation and everyone getting on the train is taking forever. Finally I arrive at my stop just in time to catch the last van.

I’m running late. Its 8:20am when I arrive and there is no time to find someone to translate. I’ll have to wait until lunch. I’m restless during my classes I pull out the letter every so often to look it over. I briefly show it to my friend Eric. Finally its time for lunch.

“Julia!” I call down the hall

She greats me with a smile, “Hey there”

“I got a letter from my father in Panama” I say pull the letter out of my bad

“Oh wow that’s so cool, what does it say?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t read it and I need to find someone who can translate it.”

“Maria might be able help you. She speaks some Spanish.”

“Really? Hmm I’ll have to ask her”

“She’s over there, Hey I got to run I’ll catch up with you later” She turns and walks off.

“yup, thanks I’ll see you later”

As she’s walking away she calls down the hall “Hey when are we gonna playing soccer?”

I smile “Anytime just let me know” I turn and head towards the lounge where Maria is sitting.

“Hey Maria are you busy?”

Maria look up “Not right now. Why whats up?”

“I got this letter from my dad and I have no idea what it says you think you could help me with it?”

“This is your father in Central America?” she ask examining the letter.

“Yup”

“Yea sure let me look at it”

Finally I’ll be able to find out what in the letter. Its loud in the foyer so we make are way in to the stair case and sit down on the steps going down to athletic office.

She sits and looks at it for a sec. She starts to read it to me but explains that its very hard with the writing and that he using some words she doesn’t know. As she tries to read it I realize that I’m not actually listening to what she is saying. I don’t think its the letter that I’m excited about. I can’t wait to see meet these people and see what they are like. For that I will have to wait, it will be another month before I get to meet them.

The Orphanage – By Nelson Roberto

Posted on March 21, 2007 by dewittn

When the gunfire stops a women lays dead face down in the door way. Two men have been shot as well. They lie slumped over rifles by there side. As the police go through the house I’m found crying in my crib. Next to me are two other girls. Social services is called in to deal with us. As I’m being as taken away a news paper photographer stops us to take a picture. One police officer is holding me while the male officer next her tries to get me to smile. It works. My face lights up in a happy little smile completely unaware of what has just happened and what is to come.

I’m taken to a private orphanage in Tegucigalpa Honduras. This will be my home for the next year. I will spend most of my days in a my crib straiting out of the window on the third floor of this clay building. I won’t learn how to walk or speak very well. I won’t eat very well either. But I will be fed.

During this time a notice is put into the paper asking anyone who might be missing a child to come forward and claim me. No one does, so six months after I arrive I am legally put up for adoption. I will wait another six month before I meet my parents.

It’s May 1980 and I have just turned two. My adoptive parents arrived in the country a few weeks earlier. Today we will meet for the first time.

My soon to be dad wakes up early and staring making coffee. My soon to be mom lays in bed a few more minuets for before joining him. They are tired from a long night of nervous sleep.

“What do you think he will looks like?”
“We will know very soon.” My mother replies.

They shower and dress quick anticipating what is to come.

My dad paces nervously waiting for the social worker to arrive. “Why do you think they wouldn’t let any picture be taken of him? Do you think might be something wrong with him that they don’t want us to know about?”

“I don’t know hunny we will see soon enough.”

“Where are they? They should have been here by now.” my dad says anxiously

“They will come try to relax” my mom replies trying to hide her own anxiety.

“I’m going to call to make sure” My dad hurries off to make the call. He return shortly. “She’s not home.” He reports disappointedly

Then the door bell rings. Finally the social worker has come to take them to the orphanage.

As they arrive they are greeted by one of the staff members. Not wasting any time my dad asks. “What is he like?”

“Hes a sweet little boy but he will cry and cry if he is not fed first.” She answers shaking her head

“Oh?” my mom inquires.

“Don’t worry hes really nice” she replies quickly “but he doesn’t talk much. He only knows how to say agua. That means water and he says it when hes hungry or when he needs anything else.”

As they walk through the rooms filled with cribs, some of the children poke their heads up to see the visitors.

“I wonder if we could adopt more than one.” My dad wonders aloud.

“Here we are.” The staff member stops at the last crib on the third floor. “Oh and one more thing…” she says as a smile crosses her face “he really loves Coke.”

This is the moment my had parents been waiting for. As they approach the crib they see me lying down in a cloth diaper and an old t-shirt. I look up with a blank expression on my face not knowing what to expect.

My mom hands me a Paddington bear with a blue raincoat and red hat. I play with it curiously. Its the first stuffed animal I’ve ever had. They pick me up and hold me. I’m not sure what to make of this. They takes turns holding me and playing my with long curly brown hair. But now they must leave to finalize the adoption.

They put me back in the crib and say good bye. They will be back for me tomorrow once it is official. As they drive away I watch from my window, holding my Paddington close, wondering who are these people and if I’ll ever see them again.

Part 1: The adoption, a leap of faith and a miracle reunion. – Nelson/Roberto

Posted on March 15, 2007 by dewittn

I was adopted from an orphanage in Honduras in 1983. My adoptive parents had just started the adoption process and were probably about a year away from getting a child. Then one night they got a phone call around 9:00pm saying that there was a child available for them however there was no picture, no background information and they would have until 3:00pm the next day to decided. I don’t think this ever happens in adoption cases.

Thankfully, after a long night with not much sleep, they decided to adopt. They were living in the Boston area and had to rush to get everything ready before leaving for Honduras. It was the beginning of April and they had to be down in Central America by May. As they were getting ready to leave they found out that they would need FBI clearance in order to travel to Honduras. This normally takes 4 or 5 weeks and they only had one. To their surprise someone pulled some strings for them and Senator Kerry’s office was able to get them clearance in 2 days.

They flew down to Honduras where they were provided with a place to stay and a lawyer to help them with all the paper work. Again, this never happens. As the adoption went on the people involved where very hush hush and wouldn’t tell my parents anything. They mentioned something about a gunfight but wouldn’t say why I was up for adoption or why they were trying to get me out of the country so fast. My adoptive father speculated that I was illegitimate sun of the president or something like that. They did learn that our Mystery Politician was overseeing the adoption and this explained where all the political help was coming from.

They finished the adoption and took be back to the US with them. The judge who oversaw my case required that my father mail her updates every 6 months. My father diligently sent letters for almost 2 years. While talking to another parent about there experience he learned that these updates were not part of the normal adoption process and he promptly stopped. This seamed to the make the whole adoption that much weirder.

I grew up knowing that I was adopted (My parents are white and they always told me I was.) But they couldn’t tell me who my parents were or even when I was born. This was very hard for me growing up since it meant it would be next to impossible to find my birth family. My Adopted father had this newspaper article that someone had gotten for us. The article had a picture of a man who had been killed around the time that I went into the orphanage. As I was growing up he would look at the picture and try to see if there was any resemblance between us.

Then one day the impossible happened. My parents got another phone call at night in the summer of 97. A man called from an organization called Probusqueda that looked for lost children in El Salvador. It turned out I had been born there not Honduras and my birth family had been looking for me for 4 years. My parents told me soon after when I got home from summer camp. It was a huge shock for all of us.

The organization sent us pictures and letters from them written to the lost child Roberto(that’s me.) After a blood test to confirm that hey were indeed my family we started to make arrangements to fly down. In truth they really didn’t need to do the blood test. I look exactly like my birth father and a lot like my older brother.

That Christmas we flew down to meet them the for the first time. My adopted parent were nervous that I would want to stay with my birth family but that never really crossed my mind. Since then I have been down about twice a year to visit them and we have become one big family. Its been truly an amazing and I’m so lucky to have had such wonderful adoptive parents who supported me all these years and when I went to meet my birth family.

Part 2: My Origins, how I was separated from my family.

Happy Birthday Mom – By Nelson/Roberto

Posted on February 22, 2007 by dewittn

Today is my adopted mother’s birthday so I just wanted to say Happy Birthday to her and to thank her for everything she has done for me over the years. I always think of you and dad when I hear this song.

“Motherfather”

[Chorus]
Mother-Father before I forget
Thank you for all that you have been to me
And just in case you are wondering I love you

[Verse 1]
I know that our difference caused
Us to waste so much of our time we could have used
Getting to know each and one another
But now that I’ve grown into my own
And learned some things about life
I now can see that it wasn’t easy to raise someone like me

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
I remember those days when you used to sit me down
And try to school me about the plenty opportunities in life
Hoping and wishing and praying that something would stick
And somehow click within this mind of mine
See you used to say, if you throw enough on the wall
Something is bound to rub off
And I’m here to tell you
That you don’t have to really worry about me at all