Surveying the derelict building, once a notorious Romanian orphanage where hundreds of infants were left starving in bare metal cots, actress Ionica Adriana was moved to tears.
With her northern British accent and her private education, you’d never guess that this orphanage was part of her own heart-breaking history.
But it was here, in a fly-infested room closely packed with other unnaturally silent, nappy-less and filthy infants, that Ionica spent the first two and a half years of her life.
She was one of the lucky ones. In the grimmest of life’s lotteries, Ionica was picked for adoption by a couple who each ran a business in rural North Yorkshire and were struggling to have children of their own. As an uncomprehending toddler, she went from the harshest deprivation — even of food and water — to wanting for nothing.
Earlier this year she returned for the first time, on an extraordinary personal odyssey that would see her reunite the scattered members of her birth family: her biological mother, one half-sister in California, and another living in Sicily who she had never even known existed.
Earlier this year Ionica Adriana returned to the orphanage for the first time, on an extraordinary personal odyssey that would see her reunite the scattered members of her birth family: her biological mother, pictured meeting her, one half-sister in California, and another living in Sicily who she had never even known existed
‘As we approached the building, in the middle of a residential area, I recognised it immediately from photos we’d had in albums when I was growing up,’ recalls Ionica. ‘I felt this overwhelming, visceral emotion, not sadness or fear, but something I’ve never experienced before that I don’t have words for. Perhaps seeing it triggered a long-repressed memory.
‘I was so young when I left it’s hard to imagine how I could remember anything from that time. But it felt like an intense Sliding Doors moment, or deja vu — if just one thing had happened differently this, instead of the beautiful North Yorkshire countryside, could have been my home.
‘I’ve been told all my life that I have a sunny, happy disposition but that could have been so different — what job would I have done, where would I have lived, who would my friends be, if I hadn’t got out of the orphanage?’
While in Romania, recording a new BBC Radio 4 documentary about her story, Ceausescu’s Children, she met a fellow actor who spent his childhood in care.
He told her that many children condemned to live in the country’s orphanages died. Indeed, studies suggest close to 20,000 child deaths were recorded between 1966 and 1989.
Left in the institutions by parents who simply couldn’t afford to feed them, they were the tragic victims of the brutal regime of dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, who banned contraception and abortion for most in a vain attempt to boost the Romanian population and, in turn, the economy.
The result was that around half a million children were put in care, in horrific conditions. Many of those who survived, Ionica was told, ended up on drugs, in jail or selling sex to survive.
When the scale of what was happening inside Romanian orphanages was discovered in the late 1980s, it was met with international outrage. Revolution brought an end to Ceausescu’s regime and he was executed on Christmas Day 1989.
Some of the youngsters were eventually adopted by foreign couples, including about 700 who came to the UK. ‘I was one of the first children to be adopted from a Romanian orphanage by a British family. Otherwise I could have died there,’ Ionica says. ‘Not a day goes by that I don’t feel hugely grateful to my parents and everyone who made it possible for me to have the wonderful life I do.’
Despite the terrible circumstances of her early life, Ionica, pictured leaving the orphanage, insists she feels no resentment
Despite the terrible circumstances of her early life, Ionica insists she feels no resentment.
‘I’m also indebted to my birth mother. I don’t feel upset or angry that she gave me up. I believe, given what I know about her own dire circumstances, she had no choice. I’m only grateful that she signed the adoption papers.’
Ionica was born in October 1988 to a 16-year-old, Valentina, who lived in extreme poverty with her grandmother and many cousins, all struggling to feed themselves. Like tens of thousands in the former Communist country at the time, Valentina felt she had no choice but to hand her baby over to a state orphanage in the city of Cluj-Napoca.
Meanwhile, in rural North Yorkshire, Cindy Calvert, a mobile hairdresser, and her husband Anthony, who runs a successful scrap metal business, had endured numerous rounds of IVF and, after several miscarriages, were still without a family of their own.
The couple were on holiday in Switzerland when news reports began to emerge of thousands of neglected children in Romanian orphanages. ‘It was utterly heartbreaking, hearing on the news about the terrible conditions,’ says Cindy. ‘We wanted children and they needed loving homes, so we decided to contact the Romanian Embassy in England, which issued us with the paperwork to go over there.’
Ionica, pictured now, was 22 months old when her adoptive family met her in August 1989 after they were given scant paperwork by the orphanage for five potential adoptees
Ionica — known to family and friends by a shortening of her last name, Adi — was 22 months old when the Calverts met her, in August 1989, having been given scant paperwork by the orphanage for five potential adoptees. There was one big, albeit understandable, obstacle: if they wanted to proceed, they would have to locate the children’s birth mothers and get written permission first.
‘As we walked into the room where Adi was, with rows of other children, we were immediately drawn to her lovely smile, a huge ear-to-ear grin as she jumped up and down in her cot, trying to get our attention,’ recalls Cindy.
‘We were both smitten.’
She’s keen to stress that staff at the orphanage did the best they could with very limited resources. But Cindy says it was ‘distressing’ to see a shaven-headed Ionica, swarming with flies that got in through broken windows, eating gruel.
‘I remember how silent it was and feeling so sad for all these children. My husband pointed out they had probably given up crying because no one ever answered their cries,’ says Cindy, now 65.
On arrival in the UK, Ionica bonded first with her father, clinging to him, before forming a strong attachment to both her parents. Pictured: Ionica with her adoptive mother Cindy Calvert
The Calverts enlisted a woman named Livia, an unofficial local advocate who offered her help for free, to find the parents of children on their list. Livia managed to trace Valentina and the birth mother of another child, Roxy, who was five months old. Both agreed to sign adoption papers, satisfied their daughters would have a better life. There was no charge, only the cost of flights and hotels.
Still the legal process was a lengthy one. Livia visited Ionica and Roxy regularly, reporting on their welfare to Cindy and Anthony back in the UK. In March 1990, the courts finally granted permission for Cindy and Anthony to adopt both Ionica and Roxy. Valentina paid one last visit to the orphanage to see her daughter and, as the Calverts waved her off at the train station afterwards, Cindy says she felt wretched that she couldn’t adopt her, too. Valentina was still a teenager, after all.
‘I felt terribly sad, wishing her luck and taking her baby back to Britain,’ says Cindy, who also went on to have two sons through IVF.
On arrival in the UK, Ionica bonded first with her father, clinging to him, before forming a strong attachment to both her parents.
With English as her first language — she never learnt any Romanian in the orphanage — she learnt to speak, then read and write and her emaciated body grew strong and athletic.
She met her sister Karina in Sicily, pictured, after doing some digging and finding information about her mother and siblings
Cindy and Anthony, 64, spoke to Ionica about her heritage from the start, keeping a photograph of Valentina in a family album.
Yet an astonishing link to Ionica’s birth family soon emerged. When she was 11, her parents were contacted out of the blue by an American couple. They revealed that, two years after Ionica’s birth, Valentina had had another daughter, Angela — and they had adopted her.
Valentina had told them about Ionica and, years later during a trip to Romania, they had managed to track the Calverts down.
Ionica and Angela spoke and wrote to one another in the years that followed. When she was 20, Ionica travelled to California and they finally met. ‘It was lovely comparing features,’ says Ionica.
‘We’re both outgoing, have very similar personalities, and loved gymnastics, despite being raised by different parents in different countries.’
They have visited one another five times since, and stay in regular contact. Meanwhile, once Ionica reached adulthood, she and Cindy tried repeatedly to get news of Valentina. But time after time, they came up empty-handed — until 2020, during the first lockdown, when they finally found her, via Facebook, living in Sicily.
Cindy and Anthony, 64, pictured, spoke to Ionica about her heritage from the start, keeping a photograph of Valentina in a family album
Cindy sent a message, asking if she was the Valentina who had had a baby in Cluj-Napoca 31 years earlier. Within minutes, Valentina and her daughter Karina, 21 — Ionica’s half-sister, who she knew nothing about —called on FaceTime.
‘Mum came rushing up the stairs with her phone saying: ‘It’s the right Valentina, she’s on FaceTime!’, recalls Ionica. ‘I was so stunned I couldn’t speak. I smiled and waved, gormlessly, which is not the reaction you imagine to first seeing your birth mother.’
And so this April, Ionica travelled to Sicily for an emotional reunion for her birth mother’s 50th birthday. ‘I’ve never felt so nervous in my life as I did in the hour before I finally met her,’ recalls Ionica, who has performed on stage and screen, including in the most recent series of Kay Mellor’s The Syndicate on BBC1.
‘I made the plan in secret, with Karina, who I love and is so much like me. But I was terrified that the shock of seeing me again, after 32 years, might give my birth mother a heart attack.
‘She was inconsolable — while although I’m an emotional person and expected to cry bucketloads, I didn’t. I just felt joy.’
Valentina apologised, tearfully, for leaving Ionica at the orphanage and said she wished she’d had a better life so that she could have kept her.
Ionica, Adriana and Roxy pictured at the orphanage with Livia. Ionica is hoping to bring together her family for the first time soon and see them all together now that travel restrictions have eased
It was for Karina’s sake that she moved to Sicily — she gave birth to her in her late 20s, when she was better able to look after a child, and wanted to give her daughter the prospect of a better life in western Europe.
Ionica was excited to share her own history and show that she had indeed enjoyed a better life as a result of Valentina’s heart-wrenching decision. And she was delighted to be able to give her news of Angela — who had had no contact with her.
Now that travel restrictions have eased, Ionica hopes to bring her half-sisters, Angela and Karina, and Valentina all together for the first time soon — along with their adoptive parents.
‘It would be incredible to have all the people I love together, as we have a lot to celebrate.
‘I’m learning Italian so I can talk directly to my birth mother,’ says Ionica. ‘While I had a difficult start, I’m eternally grateful to everyone who helped ensure I went on to have a fantastic life.’
- Ionica’s documentary, Ceausescu’s Children, is available on BBC Sounds.