Hold On For the Ride: Last Day in Guangzhou

June 6, 2012

At around 6:30 this evening, I headed down the street from our hotel to a local Cantonese restaurant to get some take-out food for dinner. The day was REALLY hot today—about 90 degrees and 90% humidity. Except for a quick trip to the store this morning and a swim in the pool this afternoon, we basically stayed in our hotel room. There was much to do in the way of packing, and we were also trying to have a calm day with Matthew, as tomorrow will be full of adventures and transitions for him.

But I was grateful for a final walk down the street to the restaurant, despite the heat, and I tried to make note of everything I saw around me. It’s funny how a person’s eyes can change after being somewhere a while. The things that initially felt strange about China now seem familiar. And although I haven’t been struck by a desire to make this place my home, I can appreciate it for all the wonderful things I see here.

I love the way that friends hold hands while walking down the sidewalk. Young women walk arm in arm (or holding hands) and even men link arms or put their arms around one another. It shows a warm connection between them. So many people passed me on their bikes, baskets filled with a dozen eggs, a briefcase, a take-out container (here they call it “take away” when they use English to describe it), or a stack of papers. People are dressed in such a variety of ways: business attire, fancy dresses, funky hipster pants and shoes. Children ride in strollers or in carriers on their mothers’ backs.

The air is humid and smells of food, cigarettes and diesel. I hear all the voices around me, speaking both Cantonese and Mandarin, as well as an occasional Chinese radio station or some Chinese opera. This place is foreign and also all at once familiar—and while this isn’t my home, this is the land where my son was born, and I tried my best tonight to imprint it in my mind so I can tell him about it as he grows.

The thing that struck me most tonight, however, was that although I’m halfway around the world from home, the people and the life here isn’t much different from my own. Sure, I live in a quieter, less populated city. And in Everett, when I look around, I see brown and white faces along with Asian faces. But the people here are living out their lives, just as I am, raising children, pursuing careers, and building friendships. It’s a lovely thing to see.

Matthew had a bit of a rough afternoon today. His only crying is somehow related to food, to his bottle, and we haven’t figured out what he is trying to express or what he needs from us. Once in a while when we make him a bottle, he starts to drink it, then he pushes it away and sobs and sobs. Today I held him for a long time as he cried, singing him all the children’s songs I could think of, rocking him, but not hushing him. I don’t know what it was about his crying, but somehow I just felt like he needed to cry for a while. And I can’t blame him—I’d cry too if I had been left at three days old and raised for 18 months in an orphanage, then handed over to strange white people who were doing their best to please me but to whom I couldn’t tell what I needed. I’d cry and cry and cry.

And so our boy did. He cried, and I couldn’t do a thing about it except be with him, sing to him, rock him, and help him know he wasn’t alone. Eventually this evening I laid him down on the bed and sang to him until he fell asleep. And sleep he does now, in his crib, laying away strength for our trip tomorrow, a passage of sorts for him.

Our suitcases are almost packed, filled with some treasures that will help us remember China. We’ve eaten most all of our snacks, Aaron’s finished his bottle of rum, and we’re actually going home with less than we came with—in terms of physical possessions, that is. For what we are truly taking home is two weeks worth of experiences (mostly good, a few hard or frustrating or awkward) and enough of a sense about China to begin to tell all our children about this amazing country that was Matthew’s first home.

It’s not sad to leave here, though. At home await two little people who are jumping with joy and excitement at our return. They long to hug and kiss their new brother, to be enveloped in the arms of their parents, to come home again and live together as a family. They have been well loved and cared for by Marmie and Bapa during these 16 longs days, and they have done well, but it’s been a long time for them too. How grateful I am to be going home to them.

And I’m also grateful to be back in our own home, in a familiar culture where I speak the primary language (something I ALWAYS take for granted, I know), and back amidst family and friends whom I have missed. You are waiting to welcome us home, and I’m so grateful.

Please pray for traveling mercies for our family tomorrow. We have a 3 ½ hour flight to Seoul, followed by a 10 hour flight to Seattle. It’s bound to be a long day for all three of us, especially Matthew. When we land in Seattle at 12:05 pm Thursday, it will feel like 3:05 am Friday morning for us . . . so we’ll have some jet lag and a major time change to recover from. But it will be wonderful to be home and done with this adventure so we can truly dig into this new life with Matthew.

I’ll try to post about our trip home so you know we’ve made it back safely. I’ll get to post myself once I’m back in Everett, which will be nice. A huge thanks to Kaitlin for all her many postings on my behalf! It’s been a blessing to know I can send posts and photos off to her and she’ll get them up so quickly. I’m sure it’s been quite a lot of work for her.

I also just wanted to say that if anyone has any questions about international adoption, particularly adoptions from China, we’re always happy to talk about our experiences more in person. I have been so moved by all the parents and families here who felt called or inspired to adopt children. I am overwhelmed when I think about all the children in the world who do not have parents or families—it’s something I can’t really understand, except to know that it happens to so many children, particularly in countries that struggle economically, politically or culturally. Part of me wishes that every healthy, intact family would adopt one child, so that so many more children would have families to belong to. But I also know that adoption is a big journey, something that people can only do if they truly feel called or inspired to do it. I am grateful for all the families we’ve met here who are taking home children, making it possible for one more orphaned child to have a place where he/she belongs.

And ultimately, we are just so grateful to have this little boy, our Matthew, coming home with us. We know that he will bring as much to our lives as we will bring to his. We can’t wait for all of you to meet this amazing little person. He is such a gift to us.

Wish us luck on our trip home—see many of you soon!