Hold On For the Ride: Awkward Adoption Moments

June 4, 2012

It’s been a day full of awkward moments and situations for us. Our agency warned us of things like this, but up until today, we hadn’t really experienced it for ourselves. Guess we couldn’t get through an entire placement trip without a few of them.

For starters, it seems like people are really curious about what we’re doing, and sometimes they don’t have the same kind of etiquette about “public gaze” that we do in the United States. We were eating lunch in a restaurant today when an older Chinese woman happened to walk by and see us sitting at a table by the window. She was obviously interested in us, because she came and stood right outside the window and STARED at us for at least five minutes. I’m not kidding—I just asked Aaron right now how long he thinks that woman stared at us and he agreed that it was “at least five minutes.” And she wasn’t subtle about it—she was nose-pressed to the glass, with us sitting on the other side, watching everything we did. A few times, Aaron actually turned and returned her stare, once for a good five or six seconds, but she stayed put for what felt like a REALLY long time.

Maybe that doesn’t sound like a strange thing, but it was VERY strange. I felt like animals in a cage, like something on display. Yech.

Also today we visited the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall (built to honor the “founding father” of the People’s Republic of China), and just before we were about to leave, a young man came up and asked our guide if we were from “Amrika?” Yes, we nodded, we are. Then he asked her if he could take our picture. It was strange, but we let this young man take a photo of us. Then he asked if he could be IN a photo with us, so the guide took one of all four of us. I guess we’re a better tourist attraction than a beautiful building created to honor China’s first political post-dynasty leader.

But it gets even better. At dinnertime, we decided to try a Korean restaurant that was recommended to us. We went to dinner around 6pm, which is early for Chinese people to eat, and we were the only ones in the restaurant. They women working in the restaurant were really lovely to us, but four of them stood really close to our table, watching us eating. They were all very concerned that Matthew wasn’t eating—and they kept talking to each other and then bringing out bowl after bowl of food for him to try. Of course he’s not eating ANY solid food, so he didn’t want any of it. They seemed more concerned with each bite. The most awkward thing? Matthew would make this horrible face every time I tried to spoon a new something into his mouth. He got worse and worse as the meal went on. Of course that was because he was getting REALLY annoyed with me for offering him congee, seaweed soup, kim chee pancake, be bim bop, and several other things he obviously did NOT want to be eating. And the women were watching all these faces and likely thinking, “What kind of a mother is she that her son won’t eat all this delicious food she’s serving him?”

Well, here’s the breaking point: At some point during the meal, Aaron happened to look over at Matthew and notice that his diaper had leaked, and baby poop was running up his back and all over the chair. Of course we didn’t have our diaper bag with us. I mopped up things as well as I could with some Kleenex that was in my purse, then I grabbed Matthew and high-tailed it out of the restaurant and back to the hotel, leaving Aaron to deal with paying the bill and apologizing profusely. I was red faced and embarrassed. My child doesn’t eat AND he poops all over the high chair at the restaurant. Ach. Nightmare.

The awkward adoption moments aren't quite over however. After a warm bath and some clean clothes, Matthew and I went to check out the children’s playroom here at the Garden Hotel. We had to go to another building, that’s actually a 20-something story office building, and when we found the children’s playroom, it was dirty and smelled like cigarette smoke. Needless to say, we only played for about 10 minutes, then we headed back to the elevator that would take us to the lobby, then back to our room. When it opened to let us on, the elevator was FILLED with young Chinese business men on their way home from work. FILLED. But they made room for us to squeeze on, and I felt like it would have been impolite for me to decline.

So in Matthew and I went, squeezed into an elevator with probably 15 other people. They were silent . . . watching us . . . and the air was charged with something strange. Then Matthew started his babbling and laughing, and I was trying to react to him while everyone else was silent, listening and staring. It was painfully awkward. I can’t even put words to how bizarre that moment was for me. I could hardly wait for that elevator to reach the ground floor . . . I escaped and hurried back to the safety of our room.

We are definitely strangers here—we don’t look Chinese, we obviously don’t understand many of the traditions and customs, and it’s all exacerbated by the fact that we’re carrying around a child who IS obviously Chinese. I feel two responses all the time—first, a little bit defensive that people would be critical of me since this is a country who cannot care for my boy but must allow him to be adopted by a family from another country. In some ways I feel a deep sense that this place has failed him—has failed their children. I know it’s more complicated than that—I know I’m only seeing things from my western, American, white perspective. Foreign politics, cultural values, and economic systems, especially in China, are a mystery to me, and it’s not fair that I’m judgmental about them. Plus I’m SO thankful to be taking my boy home, it doesn’t really matter.

But at the core of my being, I do know that the absolute best thing for Matthew would have been to stay in China with his biological family, to have a cleft lip and palate surgery here, and to remain with the people who are his birth family. But that’s obviously not to be—things were already in motion for him long before we came into the picture—and I would do anything for him now. He feels like our child in the truest sense of the world.

But I digress—I was telling you about my two responses, the first of which is to feel defensive. But the other response is quite the opposite. In the depths of my heart, I want to show the people of China that I’m a good parent, that I will love this child forever and take good care of him, and that I will be a mama to him in the truest way. When I’m walking around with Matthew, I want the Chinese grandmas to see me kiss and hug him, to see the delight in my eyes when he laughs at me or when we play together. Because as well as feeling defensive and slightly disappointed at this culture whom I feel failed my son in some way, I also want them to be proud of me, of him, and of the life we will make together with Aaron, Maya and Sam.

We are very public here—two white people with a Chinese baby. I’m sure there will be days in the future when my Chinese son will feel very public amidst a community that is very often primarily white —so I’m trying to feel how this is and remember it, so I can understand how he might feel one day.

I am grateful for the culture where we live—not because it’s “Amrika” or because it’s better than other cultures, because it's not. No, I’m glad to live somewhere where I mostly understand the traditions and ways of being. I feel at home in the Pacific Northwest like I do nowhere else in the country, nay the world. I’m sure if I lived here in Guangzhou for a few years, I’d probably start to figure it out more. But today, I felt like we were on display in a strange way. Today I longed deeply for our home, for a way of being and doing and breathing that’s familiar to me.

On the other hand, today I also felt like I’m beginning to really know this little person who joined our family one week ago today. He’s making eye contact with both Aaron and me on a regular basis now, and he’s giggling a whole bunch with me. Every time I see that baby boy’s face light up, my heart warms. Aaron and I were talking about how we can already see how he will fit into our family—bringing his own sense of self but joining in our humor and our love of being together. I can’t wait to get home (soon—three more days) and begin life together as a family—in the privacy of our home, rather than on display here.

Soon . . . it will be soon.

Tomorrow we have our appointment at the U.S. Consulate—our adoption is finalized here in China and we take an oath along with 11 other families. Our appointment time is 8:30 am, which is 5:30 pm Pacific Daylight Time on Monday. Think about us if you can—so we know that you are standing alongside us in spirit during that important moment!