Just a few pictures for now - will write when I get a chance. She had a beautiful day - we all did. It was very special for us.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Megan Yu Faith's Christening
Just a few pictures for now - will write when I get a chance. She had a beautiful day - we all did. It was very special for us.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Indirectly about Meggie Today
I've posted a memoir below about a girl from China adopted into an Irish-American family. There are hundreds of accounts like this from adult adoptees, but this one caught my eye as she was on the older side like Meggie when adopted, and she had 2 older brothers too, although it's only half-Irish in our house. This week we had some set backs with attachment. Or at least some set backs from my point of view. Meggie decided this week that it would be fun to tease us by saying 'no love' us. She also said no to just about everything I said or asked this week. Sigh. It was one of the more exhausting weeks in a while. But, there was a lot of fun too. She went to the beach and watched the boys & BaBa play football. (Funny how that stuck and now we all call Keith Ba.) Then another day she went on kiddie rides with big cousins Robert and Brooke and just had a ball running around with Brooke and holding hands with her. She also discovered she likes BIG bathtub (the pool) and went swimming 5 days in a row. I hope we can teach her how to swim soon.
http://www.rainbowkids.com/ArticleDetails.aspx?id=714
Finding Me
I am American
June 01,2010 / Mary Behan
Four Irish-Americans and a Chinese girl walked into a restaurant.
If you are waiting for a punchline, that wasn't a joke: It's just my family whenever we go out to dinner. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Mary and I was adopted from China when I was two and a half.
I've always wondered what people think when my family and I are out together. Do they see what I see: two parents and their three children? Or do they see two Americans, their two sons, and mentally check me off as my older or younger brother's girlfriend? Do they even think about what they see, or am I just obsessing over the minor details?
For a long time, I hoped I was just obsessing, because it was those sorts of questions that made me feel insecure about my place in my family. Those questions made me doubt myself, and, as cliché as it seems, they made me wonder about my identity.
It began with exasperated sarcasm. "Wait, so, are you Japanese or Chinese?"
"Neither," I would say, "I'm Irish." There would be a pause.
And then,"Wait, really?"
My general answer to The Question was, "No, not really," but if I was feeling particularly irritated, I would say, "What, you couldn't tell?"
Eventually the sardonic remark, accompanied by a roll of the eyes and perfected deadpan, became my way of ignoring a question that, for some reason, bothered me.
It bothered me because even though I was a Chinese girl adopted by an Irish-Catholic family, I did not want to be categorized as "Asian" by other people when, for the better part of my life, I did not even categorize myself as Asian. Friends' lighthearted comments about my "Asian-ness" were actually funny, but when someone, in all seriousness, asked me about my nationality, I always felt offended on some level; I did not care what I was, so what gave other people the right to question?
In the summer of 2007, after my freshman year, I traveled to Beijing to study with a Choate Rosemary Hall program. There, while all of my white American friends called me Fu Ping, my Chinese host family insisted on calling me Mary. It was their attempt to make me seem more American despite my obvious Chinese appearance, because having an American in the home was exotic. I had grown up in a Roman-Catholic middle school, where, to my classmates, everything about me screamed Asian!; this was the first time I had ever met anyone who considered me just plain American. It was a strange concept and more than a little odd, but I liked it.
When I came home from China that summer, I experienced another "first" in regards to my race. It was my cousin's wedding, and someone I had never seen before, decided to go down the line of cousins with whom I was sitting and play guess-the-parents. To my cousins, she said,"You're Bridget's, right? You are, too. And you're Susan and Chris's," while my younger brother received a,"You're Tish and Mike's."
She stopped at me. Her blank stare and hesitation lasted only a moment, but it was a moment too long.
"Tish and Mike's," I supplied hastily.
"Oh."
She couldn't tell. But then, I tried to tell myself, why should she be able to? I mean, it's not like I was ever going to hear, "You have your father's eyes," or "You look just like your mother" from anyone. Despite knowing all this intellectually, I still felt hurt, rather than annoyed or uncomfortable. That one incident kept replaying in my mind; I was incapable of just letting it go as I did most other comments about my race.
It made me think. What am I?
I came closer to answering that question the summer after my sophomore year, when I learned through awkward conversation and random speculation that my roommate at the Middlebury Monterey Language Academy was from the same orphanage as I was. Later, when I returned home from camp, my mom and I set out to see if we could find other girls from my orphanage, or maybe even from the foster family that took care of me after my brief stint as a newborn in the orphanage. Our investigation, including the exchange of part-English, part-Chinese, and part-Babelfish Online Translator emails, ended with a trip to China at the beginning of last summer, and a foray into the first two-and-a-half years of my life there. We planned to visit the relatively small city of Fuzhou, in Jiangxi Province.
While there, I found memories of a toddler who chased rabbits, pretended to do schoolwork with her elder siblings and practiced making sad faces. I heard tales of a girl who knew she was leaving and told her daddy she was going to America to make a lot of money to buy him a drink, and stories of a newly adopted child who sat at the hotel door and screamed until she cried herself to sleep.
I came face-to-face with the forgotten. With the physical remnants of my past. I found an old, one story cement house riddled with over-grown weeds and traditional good luck signs pasted on the sides of the door in faded red. I saw a broken crib kept long after its occupant departed for America, and a garden through which a toddler used to traipse under the illusion she was helping to grow things.
And, finally, I met a family so full of love, that even after they endured the pain of watching me leave, they cared for 13 more infants, ending with a girl they found on their doorstep. I met a mother, a father, and two older siblings who despite 14 years and a language barrier still called me their daughter and sister. I met a family that made me feel unbearably guilty: I wanted to be able to tell them I loved them and remembered them, because they so obviously loved and remembered me. I wanted them to be more than strangers to me so badly that I cried when I knew no one was watching.
And yet.
There was something missing. As selfish as it makes me seem, there was a whisper of disappointment that only I was able to sense, a feeling that some integral part of what I was looking for just wasn't there.
When I went to visit my foster family, I was told many things about myself, but I was not told who I was. I realized, after the trip, that I should not have expected to find the answer to my question of self-identity with my foster family. They could not tell me if I was Chinese, or American, or perhaps even half-Chinese and half-Leprechaun; that was something only I could figure out.
But I did not know where to begin.
Strangely enough, the beginning of enlightenment came later in the summer, as the start of school drew close and I finally picked up my copy of "Confucius Lives Next Door."
It was ultimately a conversation with my mother about the summer reading book and the campus speaker Cathy Bao Bean that really settled things for me. The conversation went something like this:
"So, I heard there was a speaker," my mom said casually while I was impatiently trying to hang up the phone on her.
"Yeah," I said unenthusiastically. "Cathy Bao Bean."
"Well, what did she talk about?"
"I don't know. Being Chinese and American?"
"Well, Mary," my mom said in that reproachful tone of hers, "don't you think that's kind of pertinent to you?"
I thought about it. Cathy Bao Bean is Chinese. I'm Chinese. Cathy Bao Bean is an American citizen. So am I. Therefore, two plus two must equal .
"No," I told my mom frankly. "Not really. She's actually Chinese."
What I meant was, Cathy Bao Bean grew up in a Chinese household, and she learned those Confucian values that Reid writes about in "Confucius Lives Next Door."
AHA! my mind all but screamed at me. So this is the answer, it continued. This is who you are.
Perhaps it seems narrow-minded, but I don't identify with the Chinese, socially or culturally. Like many Americans, I don't even fully understand their society or their culture. I just look like them.
So I would like to thank the author of "Confucius Lives Next Door," Cathy Bao Bean, and my mom for guiding me to that elusive identity of mine: I am Mary Katherine Behan, which is about as Irish a name as you can get. I stand at an intimidating height of four-feet-eleven-inches, and, just like the rest of my family, I am American.
Embodied in my idea of being an American is that I have the capacity to be whoever I want to be, regardless of what I look like. The world can assume I speak fluent Chinese, or Japanese, or Korean, or am good at math, simply for the fact that I am of Asian descent. I don't mind anymore, because I know who I am.
http://www.rainbowkids.com/ArticleDetails.aspx?id=714
Finding Me
I am American
June 01,2010 / Mary Behan
Four Irish-Americans and a Chinese girl walked into a restaurant.
If you are waiting for a punchline, that wasn't a joke: It's just my family whenever we go out to dinner. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Mary and I was adopted from China when I was two and a half.
I've always wondered what people think when my family and I are out together. Do they see what I see: two parents and their three children? Or do they see two Americans, their two sons, and mentally check me off as my older or younger brother's girlfriend? Do they even think about what they see, or am I just obsessing over the minor details?
For a long time, I hoped I was just obsessing, because it was those sorts of questions that made me feel insecure about my place in my family. Those questions made me doubt myself, and, as cliché as it seems, they made me wonder about my identity.
It began with exasperated sarcasm. "Wait, so, are you Japanese or Chinese?"
"Neither," I would say, "I'm Irish." There would be a pause.
And then,"Wait, really?"
My general answer to The Question was, "No, not really," but if I was feeling particularly irritated, I would say, "What, you couldn't tell?"
Eventually the sardonic remark, accompanied by a roll of the eyes and perfected deadpan, became my way of ignoring a question that, for some reason, bothered me.
It bothered me because even though I was a Chinese girl adopted by an Irish-Catholic family, I did not want to be categorized as "Asian" by other people when, for the better part of my life, I did not even categorize myself as Asian. Friends' lighthearted comments about my "Asian-ness" were actually funny, but when someone, in all seriousness, asked me about my nationality, I always felt offended on some level; I did not care what I was, so what gave other people the right to question?
In the summer of 2007, after my freshman year, I traveled to Beijing to study with a Choate Rosemary Hall program. There, while all of my white American friends called me Fu Ping, my Chinese host family insisted on calling me Mary. It was their attempt to make me seem more American despite my obvious Chinese appearance, because having an American in the home was exotic. I had grown up in a Roman-Catholic middle school, where, to my classmates, everything about me screamed Asian!; this was the first time I had ever met anyone who considered me just plain American. It was a strange concept and more than a little odd, but I liked it.
When I came home from China that summer, I experienced another "first" in regards to my race. It was my cousin's wedding, and someone I had never seen before, decided to go down the line of cousins with whom I was sitting and play guess-the-parents. To my cousins, she said,"You're Bridget's, right? You are, too. And you're Susan and Chris's," while my younger brother received a,"You're Tish and Mike's."
She stopped at me. Her blank stare and hesitation lasted only a moment, but it was a moment too long.
"Tish and Mike's," I supplied hastily.
"Oh."
She couldn't tell. But then, I tried to tell myself, why should she be able to? I mean, it's not like I was ever going to hear, "You have your father's eyes," or "You look just like your mother" from anyone. Despite knowing all this intellectually, I still felt hurt, rather than annoyed or uncomfortable. That one incident kept replaying in my mind; I was incapable of just letting it go as I did most other comments about my race.
It made me think. What am I?
I came closer to answering that question the summer after my sophomore year, when I learned through awkward conversation and random speculation that my roommate at the Middlebury Monterey Language Academy was from the same orphanage as I was. Later, when I returned home from camp, my mom and I set out to see if we could find other girls from my orphanage, or maybe even from the foster family that took care of me after my brief stint as a newborn in the orphanage. Our investigation, including the exchange of part-English, part-Chinese, and part-Babelfish Online Translator emails, ended with a trip to China at the beginning of last summer, and a foray into the first two-and-a-half years of my life there. We planned to visit the relatively small city of Fuzhou, in Jiangxi Province.
While there, I found memories of a toddler who chased rabbits, pretended to do schoolwork with her elder siblings and practiced making sad faces. I heard tales of a girl who knew she was leaving and told her daddy she was going to America to make a lot of money to buy him a drink, and stories of a newly adopted child who sat at the hotel door and screamed until she cried herself to sleep.
I came face-to-face with the forgotten. With the physical remnants of my past. I found an old, one story cement house riddled with over-grown weeds and traditional good luck signs pasted on the sides of the door in faded red. I saw a broken crib kept long after its occupant departed for America, and a garden through which a toddler used to traipse under the illusion she was helping to grow things.
And, finally, I met a family so full of love, that even after they endured the pain of watching me leave, they cared for 13 more infants, ending with a girl they found on their doorstep. I met a mother, a father, and two older siblings who despite 14 years and a language barrier still called me their daughter and sister. I met a family that made me feel unbearably guilty: I wanted to be able to tell them I loved them and remembered them, because they so obviously loved and remembered me. I wanted them to be more than strangers to me so badly that I cried when I knew no one was watching.
And yet.
There was something missing. As selfish as it makes me seem, there was a whisper of disappointment that only I was able to sense, a feeling that some integral part of what I was looking for just wasn't there.
When I went to visit my foster family, I was told many things about myself, but I was not told who I was. I realized, after the trip, that I should not have expected to find the answer to my question of self-identity with my foster family. They could not tell me if I was Chinese, or American, or perhaps even half-Chinese and half-Leprechaun; that was something only I could figure out.
But I did not know where to begin.
Strangely enough, the beginning of enlightenment came later in the summer, as the start of school drew close and I finally picked up my copy of "Confucius Lives Next Door."
It was ultimately a conversation with my mother about the summer reading book and the campus speaker Cathy Bao Bean that really settled things for me. The conversation went something like this:
"So, I heard there was a speaker," my mom said casually while I was impatiently trying to hang up the phone on her.
"Yeah," I said unenthusiastically. "Cathy Bao Bean."
"Well, what did she talk about?"
"I don't know. Being Chinese and American?"
"Well, Mary," my mom said in that reproachful tone of hers, "don't you think that's kind of pertinent to you?"
I thought about it. Cathy Bao Bean is Chinese. I'm Chinese. Cathy Bao Bean is an American citizen. So am I. Therefore, two plus two must equal .
"No," I told my mom frankly. "Not really. She's actually Chinese."
What I meant was, Cathy Bao Bean grew up in a Chinese household, and she learned those Confucian values that Reid writes about in "Confucius Lives Next Door."
AHA! my mind all but screamed at me. So this is the answer, it continued. This is who you are.
Perhaps it seems narrow-minded, but I don't identify with the Chinese, socially or culturally. Like many Americans, I don't even fully understand their society or their culture. I just look like them.
So I would like to thank the author of "Confucius Lives Next Door," Cathy Bao Bean, and my mom for guiding me to that elusive identity of mine: I am Mary Katherine Behan, which is about as Irish a name as you can get. I stand at an intimidating height of four-feet-eleven-inches, and, just like the rest of my family, I am American.
Embodied in my idea of being an American is that I have the capacity to be whoever I want to be, regardless of what I look like. The world can assume I speak fluent Chinese, or Japanese, or Korean, or am good at math, simply for the fact that I am of Asian descent. I don't mind anymore, because I know who I am.
Friday, June 11, 2010
"How 'bout I press this one?"
Meggie's language is really taking off. She is starting to use "I" and "me" and "my" and she is using verbs now. This morning she asked "How 'bout I press this one?" when wondering if a musical card would work if pressed from the cover and not just the inside. The musical card was Elmo singing Happy Birthday. She sings this ALL the time but she reverses you and to. Actually she just sings all the time - lots of songs she just makes up. It's cute and it makes me think that she is happy and content. This week she used a lot of 3 word thoughts and she asked me to read a now favorite story by reciting it's entire title Baby Bear What do You Hear? Amazing. She also told me the Chinese word for band aid last night which I have never heard her use - and I was surprised that she remembered it. And me - I've picked up about 5 Chinese words since she's been here. Sad.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Megan's Photo Shoot
Here are some pictures from Meggie's photo shoot. She continues to do well and is becoming quite funny. Of course, most of what she does is imitate me, but it does give us all a laugh. Some of her favorites we hear a lot - Whatcha doing?, Stop it, Lay down, and So tired, but it is the tone she uses and the accompanying facial expressions and hand gestures that are hysterical. She also says "Look Ma" or "Look at me" about 1000 times a day.
She is starting to have peaceful nights although she still trembles in her sleep and does have a night terror about once a week or so. She's home 2 months now and is a different person from the scared, angry, grieving little girl who Keith met in the Yunnan civil affairs office. We are all so lucky and blessed.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Happy 3rd Birthday Megan (May 8)
Megan had a wonderful time celebrating her 3rd birthday at her cousin Katie's 1st Communion Party! Thank you Debbie and Bob for sharing your and Katie's special day with us.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Home 4 Weeks
Megan is home 4 weeks now and is settling in very nicely. The lengthy, ear-piercing tantrums that left us all emotionally drained are pretty much a thing of the past. When she does get upset now she is able to stop screaming (if she needs to be reminded) or else, she is just crying like any other 3 year old who is too tired, or too hungry. She really understands a lot and has said somewhere between 50 & 75 words. some words she is just parroting and she doesn't understand or remember the meaning yet, but she does have a lot to communicate with us now. Some favorites are 'Stop it' and 'No.' what 3 year old doesn't say no to everything?
After throwing a strawberry across the table today she got her first time-out. She had to sit at the table until the timer went off 3 minutes later. She seemed to grasp the concept. I hope.
She has had so many firsts - telling us all and often that she loves us (my personal favorite), ice cream, the park, riding a big wheel, a trip to the aquarium, chewing gum (She insisted and didn't swallow - I'm sure the boys were 12 before I let them do that!), she also likes sharp knives and scissors, and her new favorite - a pink and purple ride-in car donated by some nice neighbors. The best is that she loves to giggle, laugh and tease and to say that she is happy, or kai xin. (Thank you Kai lan, and Elmo too - she finally will watch a few minutes of TV.)
She finally got into the bath tub this week too and I think she decided it is a lot more fun than the sinks, particularly the tiny bathroom sink. Right now she is washing her tea set. She is a very eager Mother's helper and follows me around with the dust pan whenever I have the broom out(which around here is about 5x per day.)
The worst of it - she will NOT sleep upstairs and is such a light sleeper that we can't carry her up or else we end up waking her. I've been on the couch now for most of the month and I really have to get her upstairs soon. However she sleeps for the most part through the night, except for some minor nightmares and although she still fights sleep, she isn't afraid to fall asleep anymore. Baby steps. She has a sense of humour too. I yelled (I know, bad Mommy) at her Thursday night because she was still spinning around and it was late and I wanted to go to couch. She got back at me. On Friday afternoon she put 2 pillows and 2 blankets on the floor and ordered me to 'lay down' in her most commanding Mommy voice. I was held captive until Ryan walked in the door.
She loves to imitate, so I really need to watch what I do and say. She is already happy to put on lipstick and blush and I luckily caught the nail polish and moved it out of reach before it got on the rug.
Here is a picture of her at about 2 weeks home, going off to a special luncheon in her honor! (Thank you Christine) And one of my favorites - one of the rare occasions she slept in her bed.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Beijing Pictures
When Keith was in Beijing there was a sandstorm casting an erie orange light over the city. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8577806.stm
Life with a Toddler, Pre-teen and Teen
First, thank you everyone for all of your kind words and wishes. I have to apologize for not answering emails, phone calls and FB messages. I will eventually. I forgot how all-consuming life with toddlers can be. Megan is really adjusting beautifully though. She laughs and giggles a lot and loves to eat but isn't hoarding food like so many children from orphanages tend to do. Still some sleep issues - she'd much rather be doing anything else but sleeping, but has slept through the night twice now! For the first few days she slept 4 hours or less a night (no nap) and I was walking into walls and Keith was still jetlagged. The big brothers are enjoying having a little girl to spoil and are very good with her.
She understands EVERYTHING and has a handful of English words. She enjoys speaking Chinese with a doll she has that says about 20 Chinese phrases. She's very proud of herself when she pronounces the Chinese correctly. About half of the adopted children reject Chinese language school, but she quite possible may not. Something else to look into. She was SO verbal in China I would hate to see her lose all of her language, and the estimate is that they will in 4 months if it's not kept up.
Here are some pictures from China... haven't had a chance to get the new pictures off of the camera yet. Soon! She looks different already - younger and much, much happier.
We have been blessed to have this little one. And she is perfect for us - she is every bit the clown as the older two!
The picture in lavender is the day of the "Red Couch Photo" - all babies passing through the White Swan share this phot op. Megan was not cooperating. A side note - she was also not interested in her "Going Away Barbie" whish is unopened on the top shelf in her closet. The dolls are selling for a few hundred on eBay and maybe in 15 years it can contribute towards college.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wednesday - Walking Tour and Oath
Still no new pictures, but here are the highlights from Wednesday.
I didn't bother with the stroller on the walking tour for 2 1/2 hours because I knew she'd want to be carried most of the way and then I'd have to deal with the stroller and her in my arms. We saw all the disgusting things that the boys wanted me to see except for chocolate covered bugs.
We saw turtles on a stick, dried snake skins, buckets of live scorpions people would buy to make a soup. There were blocks and blocks like this and then we saw the shopping areas that were huge. Everything was very crowded. Meggie and I were sweating up a storm. She carried a water bottle in her arms the entire time and took little dainty sips along the way. I dehydrated.
We then went to the consulate for the paperwork and oath taking. Pictures were not allowed and cameras were taken away. I knew this ahead of time from other people and so I left it behind. At the end we took pictures down stairs to mark the moment. Hopefully I'll get an emailed copy.
I didn't bother with the stroller on the walking tour for 2 1/2 hours because I knew she'd want to be carried most of the way and then I'd have to deal with the stroller and her in my arms. We saw all the disgusting things that the boys wanted me to see except for chocolate covered bugs.
We saw turtles on a stick, dried snake skins, buckets of live scorpions people would buy to make a soup. There were blocks and blocks like this and then we saw the shopping areas that were huge. Everything was very crowded. Meggie and I were sweating up a storm. She carried a water bottle in her arms the entire time and took little dainty sips along the way. I dehydrated.
We then went to the consulate for the paperwork and oath taking. Pictures were not allowed and cameras were taken away. I knew this ahead of time from other people and so I left it behind. At the end we took pictures down stairs to mark the moment. Hopefully I'll get an emailed copy.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Monday News
Megan passed her TB test, although it was touch and go for a moment. Another little friend was subjected to a chest X-ray because of the positive skin test, but she was fine too. Apparently they give the kids 5x the serum they do here so a lot test positive. I don't understand the reason, but there's a lot I don't understand - like why we have to test these kids when doctors have said 3 year olds can't cough hard enough to infect others. And we don't test adults traveling from TB hot spots.
Keith and Megan and a lot of the families toured the Chen Family Temple and saw some monks in action. No pictures yet.
The last bit of news is taken right from one of Keith's emails. We were impressed. But here we go again with kids smarter than we are.
Every time she asks "cesuar" (Ce Suo)(toilet) I say "you have to go to the bathroom, Cesuar?" Today in the park she said Cesuar and I started for the the hotel and she stopped me and pointed towards the restroom. I don't know how she knew, but I said Ok. It wasn't too bad in there, but still I was a little skeeved. I held her about 10 inches above the toilet. She thought it was funny. Later, she had to go again, but I wanted to take her back to the hotel and not use the public restroom. She kept saying cesuar and I just kept rollin the stroller towards the hotel saying yes, yes. She turned her head towards me and said "I have to go the bathroom" as plain as day. She's one smart cookie.
Keith and Megan and a lot of the families toured the Chen Family Temple and saw some monks in action. No pictures yet.
The last bit of news is taken right from one of Keith's emails. We were impressed. But here we go again with kids smarter than we are.
Every time she asks "cesuar" (Ce Suo)(toilet) I say "you have to go to the bathroom, Cesuar?" Today in the park she said Cesuar and I started for the the hotel and she stopped me and pointed towards the restroom. I don't know how she knew, but I said Ok. It wasn't too bad in there, but still I was a little skeeved. I held her about 10 inches above the toilet. She thought it was funny. Later, she had to go again, but I wanted to take her back to the hotel and not use the public restroom. She kept saying cesuar and I just kept rollin the stroller towards the hotel saying yes, yes. She turned her head towards me and said "I have to go the bathroom" as plain as day. She's one smart cookie.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Day 6 - Guangzhou
Last leg of the trip has begun. Now the US immigration processing takes place. Megan had a physical Saturday morning and a TB test. Some rough moments for Keith during the exam but all ended well.
Friday night Keith and Megan flew from Kunming to Guangzhou. She's quite a screamer, as noted before and he said she screamed (not cried) for 75 minutes. She also did not want to wear the seat belt. It was a business-type flight with mostly men but most were very kind to him and gave sympathetic looks. The few that tried to soothe her were swatted away.
Saturday they had a good day together. After the medical they ended up in the hotel's toy room, specifically setup for all of the adoptive families that pass through here. Another little girl tried to befriend Megan, but Megan was very cautious and just took it all in. There's a bridge in the hotel (or outside of the hotel) and Megan loves looking at the fish. Maybe she is a Pisces after all. Keith has decided that no way is she a Taurus girl. We joked that since she seems SO much like Ryan, that maybe her birthday is really June 8 and someone wrote the wrong date down. Either way - Keith is certain she is NOT a Taurus.
Hoping that the last week is easier on Keith. Now he is with several other families - 2 that he met in Beijing, and some others. All will do the US paperwork processing together. Guangzhou is also geared for adoptive families and there is less traffic so Keith feels more comfortable in this city.
Here she is and it's the first smile I've seen in a picture.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Today at the civil affairs office the Nannies told Keith she wasn't dressed warmly enough. Anyone who has adopted from China knows that strangers on the street will stop the new parents and scold them for not having the babies dressed warmly enough. Keith said it was pretty warm, but that didn't stop them from putting another jacket on her. They went shopping too and she picked out lolipops.
She's Cute & Sweet & Smart & Obstinate. Uh-oh
All things considered, Keith said things went really well. He met her at the Civil Affairs Office. She was fine in the office, and had traveled 14 hours to get there. She speaks a dialect and the Mandarin tapes Keith has been listening to aren't helping him communicate with her, although the guide/interpreter can understand him and said he's doing a good job. She screamed leaving the office and the Nannies, but the two of them were able to calm her down. The guide told her he was going for water and she said it was ok for him to go. After he came back and was leaving again, he must have said he was getting water again and she told him he already got that. She ate half a banana and then fed Keith a piece (this is truly amazing and a great sign) and then she threw the rest on the floor. He just told me she threw anything she didn't like at breakfast (Day 2) on the floor. I guess that will be MY problem when they get back! Then when they were going to dinner she was confused because she thought the banana and animal crackers was a meal. She's covered in mosquito bites and I forgot to ask Keith if she let him put anything on it. He could not get her to put her pajamas on and had to get Jerry the guide back to negotiate with her. for every article she took off she wanted a replacement. Even the jacket and she wanted to sleep with shoes so Keith gave her the pair I packed. I had no idea of size but my guess must have been close. She did like the backpack, baby doll and magna doodle. And today she let Keith hold her hand and brush her teeth. But they had to go back to the civil affairs office and that set her back and started the screaming all over again. But, she's officially ours now! Back at the room she tucked her baby into bed, and got in next to her and was playing with the magna doodle again. She also watched Curious George yesterday - not sure of her reaction though.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
We've Been Matched!
Just when we were ready to give up, we were matched! After about 3 1/2 years and ready to give up, a little girl's file found it's way to us and our hearts. As far as I can remember, I have never in my life said to God that I've had enough and to please not send me anything else to deal with, that I was too tired and couldn't even deal with a broken nail. That was the morning of November 13th, 2009.... that night I got the call from our agency to look at a file. I just thought, "Are you kidding me?" Little by little I started peaking at her file and grew to love her. Keith was traveling and I didn't even mention her to him at first. He was hooked when he read that her birthday was 5/8/2007.... one day after his. Alex liked that one of her favorite toys was balls. Ryan liked that she likes blocks. Look at her socks - I wouldn't be caught dead in something that didn't match my outfit, but not my Mom, she is always looking for odd socks... it must skip a generation. I was looking for something that connected her to me and I didn't find it right away.
Our timeline:
Submitted LOI (letter of intent) December 1, 2009
Received PA (pre-approval) December 16, 2009
On December 21st I got a call from our agency. As I saw the number flash on the caller ID I thought we lost her. But, "S", the woman who "matched" us was calling to tell us that we received our LSC (letter seeking confirmation). I got my sign. December 21st, 1988 I was supposed to be on PA 103, the flight that blew up over Lockerbie Scotland. I have spent the last 20 + years dealing with survivor's guilt and trying to find the reason. I can't say that I've found the reason, but I have come to peace with it. Up until "S" called, it was not something I spoke about often. But I just had to tell her what the 21st meant to me. She knew right away what I was talking about, which surprised me, because most people don't remember or in "S"'s case, I thought was too young to immediately know. The next day "S" told me that she lived as an exchange student with the family in Lockerbie where the plane crashed. I'm not quite sure what this means, but I somehow felt as a big loop was closed with our confirmation by the CCAA that we were the parents to this little girl, on a day that had haunted me for years, and to be told (and matched) by someone who lived there was somehow significant, and healing.
TA received January 21, 2010 - normally this means you can travel in a few weeks, but we had the misfortune of having our US paperwork expire for the third time, and needed to renew it before we could travel.
January 5th - mailed docs to US CIS
Febraury 5th - fingerprinted for the 6th time
March 4th - a woman on the RQ adoption forum responded to a post I wrote complaining about NJ immigrations. She replied that in 2007 she too waited 2 months for a renewal while her child waited and she went up the the building in Newark, found the adoption officer (who happened to be the same as mine) and got the officer to complete her paperwork and promise to mail it out. The adoption community is amazing and filled with strangers who help one another. She coached me and told me how to get into the building and how to get on the adoption floor, and how to get in... and I did it, and it unfolded exactly as it did for her, and after a short wait I found myself sitting in the adoption officer's office while she completed my paperwork and I walked out with my approval. Later that day we had tentative travel scheduled for March 18. . Tentative became definitive, and Keith is heading towards the Great Wall probably within a few hours. Yes, on my birthday. But that's ok... he's bringing me home a pretty great gift.
Keith called me from Beijing around 430 this morning. Pretty uneventful. Just a slight glitch going through US security. I packed for Megan. And I had to pack clothes, and grooming products, and an arsenal of meds, and a baby doll for her to play with and a backpack with some little toys - crayons, book, and some snacks. Most adoptive parents of older children get "in" with their children through food. The bag was pretty full before Keith even put his stuff in it. It was just ridiculous once he was done. Last night I removed some of Megan's clothes, some of Keith's snacks and some of his clothes. (The man took about 600 pairs of socks.) And the bag weighed 60 pounds... He refused to take a second carry on. Thursday morning he decided to take a second carry on (finally). So I take out Megan's backpack and move it to the small duffel bag. He must have asked me 10 times 'no liquids?' "No Keith. No liquids. The meds are in the big bag, and the shampoo and soap are in the big bag, and the 3 pack of apple juice is in the big bag. Don't worry. You're fine." Fast forward a few hours. He gets stopped going through security because I forgot I packed bubbles in her backpack! They practically strip-searched him after that. I am still laughing when I think about it. Totally forgot!
Our timeline:
Submitted LOI (letter of intent) December 1, 2009
Received PA (pre-approval) December 16, 2009
On December 21st I got a call from our agency. As I saw the number flash on the caller ID I thought we lost her. But, "S", the woman who "matched" us was calling to tell us that we received our LSC (letter seeking confirmation). I got my sign. December 21st, 1988 I was supposed to be on PA 103, the flight that blew up over Lockerbie Scotland. I have spent the last 20 + years dealing with survivor's guilt and trying to find the reason. I can't say that I've found the reason, but I have come to peace with it. Up until "S" called, it was not something I spoke about often. But I just had to tell her what the 21st meant to me. She knew right away what I was talking about, which surprised me, because most people don't remember or in "S"'s case, I thought was too young to immediately know. The next day "S" told me that she lived as an exchange student with the family in Lockerbie where the plane crashed. I'm not quite sure what this means, but I somehow felt as a big loop was closed with our confirmation by the CCAA that we were the parents to this little girl, on a day that had haunted me for years, and to be told (and matched) by someone who lived there was somehow significant, and healing.
TA received January 21, 2010 - normally this means you can travel in a few weeks, but we had the misfortune of having our US paperwork expire for the third time, and needed to renew it before we could travel.
January 5th - mailed docs to US CIS
Febraury 5th - fingerprinted for the 6th time
March 4th - a woman on the RQ adoption forum responded to a post I wrote complaining about NJ immigrations. She replied that in 2007 she too waited 2 months for a renewal while her child waited and she went up the the building in Newark, found the adoption officer (who happened to be the same as mine) and got the officer to complete her paperwork and promise to mail it out. The adoption community is amazing and filled with strangers who help one another. She coached me and told me how to get into the building and how to get on the adoption floor, and how to get in... and I did it, and it unfolded exactly as it did for her, and after a short wait I found myself sitting in the adoption officer's office while she completed my paperwork and I walked out with my approval. Later that day we had tentative travel scheduled for March 18. . Tentative became definitive, and Keith is heading towards the Great Wall probably within a few hours. Yes, on my birthday. But that's ok... he's bringing me home a pretty great gift.
Keith called me from Beijing around 430 this morning. Pretty uneventful. Just a slight glitch going through US security. I packed for Megan. And I had to pack clothes, and grooming products, and an arsenal of meds, and a baby doll for her to play with and a backpack with some little toys - crayons, book, and some snacks. Most adoptive parents of older children get "in" with their children through food. The bag was pretty full before Keith even put his stuff in it. It was just ridiculous once he was done. Last night I removed some of Megan's clothes, some of Keith's snacks and some of his clothes. (The man took about 600 pairs of socks.) And the bag weighed 60 pounds... He refused to take a second carry on. Thursday morning he decided to take a second carry on (finally). So I take out Megan's backpack and move it to the small duffel bag. He must have asked me 10 times 'no liquids?' "No Keith. No liquids. The meds are in the big bag, and the shampoo and soap are in the big bag, and the 3 pack of apple juice is in the big bag. Don't worry. You're fine." Fast forward a few hours. He gets stopped going through security because I forgot I packed bubbles in her backpack! They practically strip-searched him after that. I am still laughing when I think about it. Totally forgot!
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