Then, on the way to our China family reunion in July, after Don and Sarah were tucked into bed in the hotel room, I checked our email and found a message from Bruce, my contact in N*nchang. He had learned that Sarah's FM was back in Y*feng for a visit and wanted to know if I still wanted him to go see her. He had the list of questions I'd sent him in February, but he needed some recent photos of Sarah.
While Sarah and Don slept, I spent an hour trying to give him the go-ahead and send a couple of digital photos I had with me. I had retrieved his message from our C*nturytel email account using my iPad. I re-typed the message numerous times, with the onscreen keyboard, which is no easy task, and it failed to go through each time. I finally decided to try my Gm*il account. After a few attempts, that finally worked. I went to bed and slept little as I wondered whether we'd be able to move quickly enough this time to connect with the elusive FM.
Once we arrived in T*nnessee, I used the hotel computer to check email. Bruce confirmed that the FM was still in Y*feng, and he was eager to travel to meet her. He wanted me to wire the fee to him using W*stern Union. Between reunion events, I set up an online account and repeatedly tried to use our credit card to send him money. The transfer failed each time. My anxiety grew.
I told Bruce I would be able to wire the money once I was home at the beginning of the week, and he made arrangements to travel to Y*feng the following Wednesday. Given our history, I was worried about putting off his trip even a few days, but I tried to have faith that things would work out this time and did my best to put it out of my mind while I enjoyed the reunion.
The next day, I remembered hearing about other families who had hired people to get copies of their children's orphanage files, even though, technically, the parents are the only ones allowed to see them. I asked Bruce if he could also do that, and he quickly replied that he'd called the orphanage director and made arrangements. I would need to add the $250 fee that the province charges parents for that service.
When we got home on Monday, I tried the money transfer again, and it was denied again. A split second later, the phone rang; it was our credit card company asking about the unusual transaction. I imagine that happened each time I tried to wire money from T*nnessee, but, of course, there was no one home to answer the phone. Those credit card companies -- they're always looking out for the customer. :) Once I cleared it, the money went, and all systems were go.
Lying in bed Tuesday night, I knew it was already Wednesday morning in China and Bruce was in Y*feng collecting pieces of Sarah's past. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I knew that even the tiniest detail might prove profound to her in the future, and it was a weight off my shoulders to be doing all I could to help her know her story.
I eagerly checked email Wednesday morning but found nothing from Bruce. It was a little soon, after all. Wednesday evening: still nothing. Thursday morning, I turned it on, and messages from China started filling the screen. One, two, three...ten, eleven, twelve...sixteen, seventeen, eighteen emails, all with attachments!
The first ones contained photos of the FM, her husband, and her family. There were shots of her in her home holding one of Sarah's favorite toys (a little pink bear). Unfortunately, since Sarah was with her, she has moved, so the photos don't show where Sarah lived as an infant.
According to Bruce, the FM is 54, uneducated, and has worked at a local resturant washing dishes. Her husband is 57 and works in a factory. They have two grown children and rent a small house in town. Bruce sent her temporary mailing address and said she promised to send him her permanent address once they buy a home.
My impression is that the foster family is not well off. They don't have access to email, so we won't be able to communicate easily. I had hoped the FM might have photos of Sarah from their time together, but she did not. She probably doesn't own a camera.
Before we traveled to China, we sent a book of questions to the orphanage, hoping someone would help us gather information about Sarah's first year. The book was returned to us on Family Day, and many of the blanks were filled. We were given the name of Sarah's FM and the person who found her at the gate of the orphanage on the day she was born. We were also told that another baby lived with her FM at the same time Sarah did.
I'd like to find the other baby, so that Sarah can be in touch with her when they're older. Bruce asked the FM the baby's name, and she said it was Lu Ning. I've posted messages on the various China adoption Yahoo! groups, but no one has responded. It's possible Lu Ning's adoptive parents aren't in those groups. The search is compounded by the complexity of the Chinese language. "Ning" is the PinYin (anglicized) translation for a number of Chinese characters with various meanings. Without the written Chinese character, it's hard to know the name for certain, and the FM's memory seemed a little fuzzy. I'm not optimistic we'll locate this girl.
The rest of the emails contained photos from the orphanage. There were shots of the grounds, the director and his assistant, and one of a staffing chart with photos. This last one is precious, since the woman who found Sarah on the day she was born works at the orphanage. Bruce was able to identify her on the chart, so we have a photo of her. The grounds shots are interesting, but, with the exception of Sarah's finding spot (the front gate), I don't think they're too important, since Sarah lived with her FM and only visited the facility for check-ups.
Then there are the documents. We received hard copies (with English translations) of many of them (medical and growth reports, immunication records) with our referral, but there were some we hadn't seen before and didn't know existed. I hope to have our local Chinese friend translate them for me sometime, but I've already been able to glean precious tidbits from them, including a tiny footprint and a color version of the earliest photo of Sarah we have (the one published in her newspaper finding ad). It's hard to say how old she is, but it's possible she's wearing the clothes she was found in.
I've been pulling together information for Sarah's lifebook since before she arrived. A lifebook tells an adopted child's story, from birth through finding a forever family, and helps her understand the events that have shaped her. I had envisioned creating a unique, beautifully laid-out book that Sarah would treasure. Early this summer, though, I realized that, if I waited until I had time to learn the scrapbooking software and obsess over every design detail, Sarah would be a teenager before the thing was done. Knowing how important it is that she learn her story at a young age, I gave in and bought a Shutterfly lifebook template and pledged to complete the book before I started grad school.
The foster mom and orphanage info arrived just in time to fill in some holes in the book. I was able to complete and order it in early August, and it was waiting for us when we returned from vacation. Sarah was delighted to see it. I've made a book for each of the past two summers and "Best of Sarah" books for the last two years, and she loves looking at the photos of herself, friends, and family.
I was a little anxious about reading the book with her. We've talked a lot about her foster mom, and Sarah knows that she spent her first year with her, but I haven't talked much about her birth mother. With no photos to help tell the story, I've felt as though it would all be too confusing for her. Now that I had a book to follow, with a graphic of a Chinese mother, I thought it might be easier.
Sarah liked the book, but she flipped right past the birth mother pages to those with photos of herself. I couldn't even get her attention to try to explain that piece. After a couple of times through the book, she seemed to lose interest and didn't want to read it anymore.
Fortunately, I had tracked down a picture book called Motherbridge of Love and borrowed it from the library. It is based on a poem about a Chinese girl and her two mothers, biological and adopted. The poem is a bit contrived, and some of the vocabulary is above Sarah's head, but the artwork is wonderful -- flowing, warm, vibrant, and full of love -- and tells the story well on its own. The book talks about the gifts the girl has received from each mother ("The first one gave you life; the second taught you to live it.") and shows a pregnant Chinese woman who then is holding a baby, along with a Caucasian woman playing with and comforting an older girl.
The pictures have worked perfectly for explaining to Sarah how she came into the world and how she came to be our daughter. We've read it before bed every night for the last month or so, and she started trying to tell the story about a week ago. When she gets stuck, she says, "And what else?" She now can cover most of the high points: "I was a little baby in my birth mom's tummy, in her womb, and I was born and she couldn't take care of me, so my foster mom took care of me when I was a little baby, then Mommy and Daddy came and got me and we're a family at home." It's very sweet.
It will take years for Sarah to understand and process all of the details, known and unknown, of her first 12 months of life. I'm relieved to help her start with all of the information available to me. My job now is to tell her her story and answer her questions as honestly and openly as I can, so that she feels comfortable talking with me about it. I hope we can share as much of her journey as possible.
