Paperwork Day

May 29, 2012

-Annemarie-

Just a quick note to say hello and give an update on how we are doing. We spent the morning back in the Civil Affairs office doing paperwork. Matthew slept ALL NIGHT last night, from 8pm until 7am. Wow! I don’t think Maya or Sam ever did that, especially the first few nights we had them.

Matthew is not showing much interest in solid foods (although the woman from the orphanage reports that he eats them regularly) but he loves being fed a bottle, so we’re sticking with that for now. He’s doing SO well—such a sweet boy with kind brown eyes. He continues to suck his thumb, and he’s really mellow. But he’s also starting to engage with both Aaron and me. He likes to raise arms up and down: “Up and Down,” we say as we hold his hands, and he grins at us. He’s also taken to holding our hands and trying to walk around. When I think of all he’s gone through the past 48 hours, I’m amazed that he’s as solid and steady as he is. We are giving him plenty of hugs, kisses, and snuggles—virtually all the time, except for sleeping time. It feels like making up for lost time in many ways.

We’ve been so encouraged by all the other folks here adopting children. Today at the Civil Affairs office, I had a wonderful conversation with a family from the Netherlands who are here adopting their third daughter. It was neat to hear about their process (very different from ours) and imagine their adorable daughter growing up speaking Dutch instead of English.

We are thinking about changing hotels this weekend, and moving into the downtown area to The Garden Hotel. It’s another hotel recommended by our agency, and there’s really no reason to move except we think the change might be good for us. We’re in Guangzhou 11 nights all told, and we think a little move and new space in the middle might feel really good. Plus we’ll be in the same hotel as other WACAP families and can possibly do some meals or activities with them.

Just wanted to also give a little shout out to Sarah Gao, who is our WACAP guide here in Guangzhou. She’s fantastic—so patient with all my questions, so good at the process and guiding us through, and also so fun. We actually hope she comes to Seattle again soon so maybe she’ll come visit us. We get on so well with her, and it’s wonderful to have someone who can translate for us and help us navigate this journey.

That’s all for now—Matthew’s sound asleep in his crib (mid-day nap) and Aaron’s watching soccer (AGAIN!). We just had cheese and crackers for lunch, as we’re a little tired of eating out, and we plan a walk on Shamian Island and a trip to the playground this afternoon. A pretty relaxing day for us in all.

Thoughts from an Adoptive Dad

A few things to mention at the outset, I’m not a blogger. In fact, I’ve never blogged and what blogs I have read have been few. So what I put forth I don’t know if it meets blogger standards. Second, English is like a second language for me (it is also why I married a woman with her M.A. in English Literature). So be ready for various comma splices, tense problems, etc. Third it is approximately 6 in the morning. Granted I actually awoke at 4 AM (not because of Matthew or anything), but for some reason my body kicks into gear around that time. I usually find myself reading . . . there is not much else to do in a hotel room in a foreign country. It does give me time to reflect and process (and we psychologists like to process).

With the disclaimers aside, I can begin. While one can anticipate and concoct various scenarios in one’s head about “Gotcha Day,” there is really no way to fully capture it in one’s mind. It is not until you gather up an assortment of toys, food, gifts, passports, etc. and load up into a van; before your start to realize “holy crap…this is not at all what I imagined”. Now with little less than 20 minutes before the van arrives at the Civil Affairs building (the place where you will meet your child) do you start to readjust your thinking and emotions. But what are you readjusting? You still don’t know anything. You are just driving in a van with other people. (In our case, the couple in front of us this is their second international adoption and they are also a mixed bag of emotions—not very comforting, mind you, for us newbies). Your wife, who you know so well, gives off the classic nonverbals of her anxiousness. We hold hands periodically, smile nervously at one another. “Are we there yet?” shouts our 4 year old companion in the van. While his mom politely addressed him, I’m thinking “I sure in the heck hope not. I’m NOT ready for this.”

Then the thoughts return of other times and spaces where I had similar feelings (e.g., birth of my other kids, marriage, etc.). This brings a bit of relief to me and more regulated breathing to avoid passing out. (Yes, people…at some of these other events I was in fact about ready to hyperventilate and pass out. I just looked composed—so I thought anyway.)

The time elapses quickly and we are now unloading in front of a less than stellar looking building. In fact, we are unloading at a side entrance of a very non-descript building. “What is this place? This is nothing what I envisioned. What in the world are we doing here again?!?…Oh yeah, Matthew…stay focused.” I look at the building again. “Oh come on…serious this is the building!?!”

A quick elevator trip up doesn’t bring much comfort either, especially as we exit. We are hit with deafening cries of babies and children (and parents too). Think large preschool classroom, but with more chaos and no teacher. I scan the room seeing some parents bewildered, others more anxious than I, still others overjoyed by holding their new child. The children are experiencing similar reactions in their own ways. A little girl, barely walking stands frozen and staring at her new father. Her hand tentatively grasping his hand. Another small child behind us wails for her “mommy” (AKA: her orphanage worker). Her new mom gently attempts to sooth her. I can imagine the pain of this new mother’s experience. The waiting, the hope and love to be met with a child wanting only the familiar—and you are not it. Another little one clings tightly to his adopted mother.

Pictures and tears abound. I’m overwhelmed and tears well up. There is beauty, pain, hope and nearly every raw human emotion sitting there for me. You can’t anticipate this. No book or story given by another adopted parent can describe this. This is my experience and mine alone. Here I am…sitting and soaking up all of this.

And yet, Matthew hasn’t even entered the room. We are still awaiting his arrival. How fitting I guess. Maya and Sam’s arrivals, although on their due dates, came at the hour they were ready…not on my timing. In a strange way, this familiar expectant father space of being fully present was a comfort for me. We are told Matthew’s on his way and he’ll be here shortly. Not that “shortly” means much for me at this point, but I take it in. Time goes by and other families are united or departing with their child. More pictures. More tears. More joy.

Then in walks a caregiver with a little person in her arms. The baby is dressed in blue, but with his head turned away. “That has got to be him,” I say to myself, but I don’t want to over do my anticipation and excitement as this my not be him. With a thumbs up and a little wink from our assistant Sarah, Annemarie and I make short time of the distance remaining that separate us all from uniting. Think Matrix…busy chaotic room becomes nearly motionless and quiet as I move through this space—effortless—towards my son. Matthew is passed off by a warm smiling woman, who seems just as out of place as we are. Matthew clings to Annemarie, and we all embrace.

I can’t do justice for the moments thereafter, not with words anyway. It is kind of like trying to describe some personal spiritual experience, a sunset or sunrise, birth of a child, etc. No words. Just tears. (Yes, I do cry. Guys who can cry and admit it are stronger than any dumb stoic image our USA culture and media attempts to instill). 

“This is our son! This is my son!” these words evenly formulate within my head. I am proud, excited and blessed. Tears continue to well up for me even as I write. I look forward to my life moving forward with our new son today—who enters our family, our extended family and dear friends.

~Aaron

It's a Boy!

May 28, 2012

We are happy to announce the joyous arrival of our third child: Matthew Oscar Xu-Bo Russell, on his 18-month birthday.

At approximately 2:30 pm today, May 28, 2012, Aaron and I arrived at the Civil Affairs Office of Guangdong Provence with our guide, Sarah, and another WACAP family from Texas who were adopting their second son. Neither Aaron nor I had any idea what to expect.

When we walked in the room, the sound of wailing children and excited adult voices were deafening—it was the most intense moment I think I’ve ever experienced. We looked around for our son, realizing that it was likely he was already there, but after making a circle of the room without finding him, Sarah learned that he hadn’t yet arrived. I was already crying, and I joined a corner of other waiting adoptive mamas, one of whom told me, “I know exactly how you feel,” and we cried some more together. The community of shared experiences was such a blessing for me.

We watched some other families meet their children for the first time (a very emotional experience) and finally in walked a woman carrying a boy about Matthew’s size and age. Was this our son? We couldn’t see his face, which would have been a dead give-a-way, so we asked Sarah to go check for us. She walked over, talked to the woman, looked up and gave us the thumbs up. OUR BOY!

Both Aaron and I flew across the room toward the child, and when our sweet Matthew turned his head around, we knew it was him in a second. I, of course, started to sob and reached out my arms for him. “Mama?" the woman asked Sarah, pointing to me. Sarah nodded, and the woman handed my son to me. In an instant I was holding him, and he gripped me so tightly, I was startled. He didn’t make a single sound, just looked at my face and then around the room and then at my face again. Aaron was right beside me, and together we welcomed our third child.

A bit later, we had a chance to sit down with the woman from the orphanage, whose name is Deng Ying Hua, and she answered a bunch of questions for us about Matthew’s past 18 months. The whole time, our boy clung to me, and then to Aaron, a bit bewildered. He was obviously interested in all the noises and activity in the room, but he wasn’t scared like I thought he might be—in fact, he appeared mostly curious.

Around 3:30, Deng Ying Hua bid Matthew a cheerful, hopeful goodbye and left, and soon after, we climbed back into the WACAP van with our son. I had brought the Ergo carrier, and it was the perfect ride for our boy, who wanted to look out at the world but also held tightly to whomever carried him.

We made a quick stop at a Chinese grocery store to get some formula (a brand recommended by the orphanage), diapers, two little spoons and bowls, and some snacks for Aaron and me. (Ask me about this grocery store experience in person--it's a little too personal to blog about.) Then Sarah deposited us back at our hotel.

Alone together for the first time, Aaron, Matthew and I spent several hours getting to know each other. I undressed my boy and changed his diaper, then dressed him again in a pair of pajamas that had belonged to his cousin Parker. A bit later, Aaron went out to get some dinner for us, and I took a short bath with Matthew. He seemed to really enjoy the warm water.

He played and played, loving the attention from two doting parents. It’s amazing how much we know about him after just being with him for a little over six hours. His favorite toys were the Little People bus, the cars from Bapa, the Little People and animals, and a big colorful beach ball that I brought and blew up for him.

Matthew doesn’t say any words, but he makes all sorts of sing-songy sounds, and although he’s not walking, he’s very skilled at the army crawl and pulling himself up on things. He’s not such a good sitter yet, but he likes to be on his tummy and has good motor skills in general. His eyes are deep brown, his forehead high, and his smile lights up his entire face. He's also a thumb-sucker--his right thumb, mostly, although he'll suck on either. He also likes to play with his hands, watching them carefully. He can cross his fingers, and he also makes the sign language letter "n" with his left hand sometimes (Maya, I know you know what this is!).

He’s quite chubby—sturdier than we expected, although I’m guessing he’s still small for his size. In terms of his development, he seems to be at about the 10-12 month mark (I’m sure a result of living in an orphanage for virtually his entire life). He's  really skilled at handling a bottle on his own, although Aaron and I have made a pact to not ever let him drink a bottle without one of us holding him, an opportunity for us to start making up for all the months we’ve lost!

Around 8:00, I made him a small bottle (he had one earlier in the evening too), wrapped him in a blanket, turned down the lights, and held him until he was almost asleep. Just as his eyes were about to close for good, I put away the bottle, gave him about 20 kisses on the cheek and head, and laid him in his crib, on his back. He made one turn onto his belly, then shut his eyes, and now he’s sound asleep.

Whew. We survived a very emotional day, grateful to have our son here with us, and glad to be one step closer to getting home to Maya and Sam so we can begin our lives as a family of five. The only thing strange about today was that Maya and Sam weren’t here to celebrate in this amazing “birth” with us.

I can’t thank our friends and family enough for all the love and support we received today. My inbox was literally flooded with messages and words of encouragement. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words just what this experience was like—if you’ve done it before, you know what is deep in this mama’s heart tonight. But if not, let me just say that right now I feel the same kind of amazement and wonder staring at the beautiful boy sleeping in the crib next to me that I felt the night that Maya and Sam were each born. Every child is a gift, an amazing blessing from God, and I can’t imagine a more perfect addition to the Russell family than Matthew, this sweet boy whom we are so grateful belongs to us now.

And to you, dear ones—he belongs to you too. Thank you for walking beside us thus far. We hope you will continue to join us on this adoption journey—from tonight until the day we land back in Seattle and beyond.

A first family hug and photo (I'm still crying, if you can't tell)

Our family with Matthew's caregiver from the orphanage, Deng Ying Hua

Aaron holds Matthew

In front of Civil Affairs Office sign

Playing animals with Mama

Our boy is a thumb sucker!

He LOVES that yellow car

Happy from all the attention

Settling in to Guangzhou

It’s pouring here in Guangzhou as we sit in our hotel room waiting out another monsoon. My heart is a layered mess this afternoon, sorting through all the things my mind is thinking, trying to prepare for what we have ahead. We arrived at the Guangzhou East train station just as the rain started to pour, and thank goodness Sarah, our guide, was waiting for us with her gentle demeanor and her smile. It was quite a chance traveling from vibrant Hong Kong to Mainland China, which really reflects the Communist regime that has been in power here for more than half a century.

The city streets are dirty and busy, full of people, little shops (like in Hong Kong), cars (although here they drive on the right side of the street as opposed to Hong Kong, where they were on the left) and this tropical landscape. Our turn onto Shamian Island was a welcome relief to the bustle of the downtown area, and here, true to form, are tree-lined streets, parks, old buildings, and a slower pace.

Our hotel is OLD—with high ceilings trimmed in ornate molding, large leaded-glass doors that lead out onto a large tiled patio (very French/British in feel) and a bathroom with sliding mirrored doors that either close to create a separate bathroom area or open, making the bathroom part of the larger hotel room. We have a large, free-standing bathtub, separate shower, large refrigerator and counter area for food and making coffee/tea, a king-sized bed, and a light blue metal crib on rollers for Matthew.

Of course I got straight to work making this little space feel like home, as we’ll be here for the next 11 nights. First thing, I unloaded Matthew’s suitcase. I used the wicker laundry basket as a toy bin for the toys we brought and cheerfully arranged the books, rings, blocks, Little People, and wooden cars (thanks, Bapa!). In Matthew’s crib, I put soft books and his stuffed doggie, and I hung two blankets on the side—one is the “silkie” I made for him that matches the one we sent. The other is a fleece blanket with bright-colored dots that was one of Sam’s favorites.

Then I set up a food-eating area with bottles and snacks for Matthew, hung my clothes up in the closet, lined my shoes under the bench, and found a good corner for Aaron’s suitcase. It’s not 1001 Rucker, but it feels a little bit like home to me.

It’s funny because even though this is new space, I already have a sense that we’ll be quite sentimental about our little room (8312) here in the west building of the Victory Hotel—and when we leave in 11 days, we’ll feel like we’re leaving part of us behind.

When we got to the hotel, we saw another adoptive family standing outside. They had a little boy in a front pack, sound asleep—I think he also had a cleft lip and palate. By the sound of their English, I think they must be from somewhere in the South. I greeted them, commented on how cute their son is, and told them we are meeting our son tomorrow. They replied warmly with congratulations and “best of luck.” It’s really nice for us to see other families here doing what we are doing. It makes us feel slightly less crazy than we might otherwise.

I have to admit that tonight I’m on the verge of tears in anticipation of what awaits us tomorrow. We found out from Sarah, our guide, that we meet Matthew at 2:30 p.m. tomorrow. For those of you on the west coast, that’s 11:30 Sunday night for you. So when you wake up Monday morning, we’ll be sound asleep with our boy in our room.

I don’t know how to feel, exactly. It’s all kind of overwhelming, but it’s also just as I imagined it. WACAP has prepared us well and supported us along the way, and we’re so grateful for each other and for Sarah, our guide, who will help us navigate this complicated process of Chinese adoption here in China. Some moments I want to burst into tears, pack up my suitcase, and get on the next flight home. But then I think of our son, waiting for us, for a lifetime with us, and I think of all that my heart has done to prepare for this moment. I know we are strong enough to show up tomorrow and take that boy in our arms.

In some ways, this feels like labor: I remember being scared, anxious, worried, and excited at the end of my pregnancies with Maya and with Sam. I had no idea what to expect—didn’t know if it would hurt or make me sad or scared . . . or how it would all turn out. I admit to you honestly that I feel the same way here tonight. Home feels farther away than it ever has before, and what we are about to face feels in some ways insurmountable.

But then I think about Matthew—about the transition that is ahead of him—and I take a deep breath and KNOW that I have to do this well, if only for him. He needs me and Aaron to be brave and loving—he needs us to be kind and intentional with him. We will get through this together, come hell or high water, and we will live it as best as we can, if only for Matthew’s sake.

So PLEASE pray and think about us tonight (Sunday) as you go to bed. We need all those American wishes sent across the vast Pacific Ocean to surround us here tomorrow as we get up, spend some quiet hours together in the morning, then hop in the van with Sarah to go meet our SON!!!!

One logistical thing: My regular email is NOT working here in China (nor is Facebook or any of my blogs). So please use my hotmail email address to contact me from here on out. It is annemarie_russell@hotmail.com. It seems like I can forward any new messages from my regular email to my hotmail account, so I will get to them eventually, but if you want to reach me directly, please send stuff to my hotmail account. Kaitlin and Megan, the messages you sent me that I got today, I was able to email. Amy H., I got your message before we left Hong Kong.

Thank you all for your emails and your love. We REALLY appreciate hearing from you. And don’t worry about making any comments on the blog because we won’t be able to read them until we get home. If you want to reach us, please email!!

 On the train to Guangzhou

A shot of our traveling companions

Aaron in our room at the Victory Hotel

Matthew's crib all ready for him

The toy basket (ie. laundry basket)

Second Day in Hong Kong

Another Day in Hong Kong

May 26, 2012

We spent our second of two days in Hong Kong today. While it wasn’t the day we expected at the outset, it’s been a full day of walking around this lively city.

We headed out from our hotel with a plan to get to Hong Kong Island (our hotel is on Kowloon Island) and ride the tram up to the top of Victoria Peak, the classic view in Hong Kong. We rode the MTR (subway) to the bottom of the island, rode the enchanting Star Ferry across the bay, and arrived on Hong Kong Island just in time to experience our first real monsoon.

I can’t tell you how hard it rained. Sheets of water and heavy winds pounded us. We ran for cover and were fortunately able to stay indoors or under walkways for most of the time it was raining.

While inside, we experienced three different Hong Kong malls—a very different side of this culture. Everything was so high end, and expensive, and there were items for sale everywhere we looked. I was reminded of why I detest malls so much—whether in Hong Kong or in Washington. It was interesting to note that most of the advertisements in the malls featured Caucasian people, even though almost every person we see here is Asian. Part of the western influence on Hong Kong, I suppose.

After surviving a bombardment of capitalist consumerism, we escaped to the Hong Kong History Museum, where we walked through a huge exhibit on the history of Hong Kong. Both Aaron and I learned so much about this area, and there were many connections to Guangdong Provence and its history as well, which is where Matthew lives. It was so nice to be out of the rain and also be learning about this region’s rich past.

We’re back at our hotel resting before dinner and another walk around the city. We leave for Guangzhou tomorrow at 12:15 p.m. We’ll travel on the regional railway, arriving in Guangzhou around 2:00 p.m. Our guide, Sarah, will meet us at the train station and transport us to our hotel, and she’ll also get us situated with anything we need.

We have enjoyed our days in Hong Kong, but we’re really most excited for the real reason behind this trip: meeting Matthew. Monday is the day, although we don’t know exactly when. Matthew’s orphanage is seven hours south of Guangzhou, and we hear that he will likely travel by van along with his orphanage director. We still don’t know if they’ll come on Sunday night and spend the night somewhere in Guangzhou or if they will come on Monday morning. It’s possible that we’ll get to meet him either Monday morning OR Monday late afternoon, depending on the travel plans.

Either way, he has two more nights when he’s in the care of the Xuwen County Social Welfare Institute, and after that, he will be our boy forever. We are SO excited to meet him—to be with him and get to know him. I’m sure for him, he will experience a whole mix of emotions, some of them traumatic and anxiety producing. We are praying for his peace in this transition, as he leaves the only home he has ever known to become part of his family.

We know the good that’s about to happen for him, but even amidst good there is deep loss, and for him there will also be anxiety and sadness. He’ll be put into the arms of two strange-looking white people, people he has never seen or met before, and the only people who are familiar to him will leave him behind. I am grateful that at 18 months, a child doesn’t carry detailed memory for long. But I also know that trauma and loss remain with young children, even though they can’t put a concrete memory or a description with what happened.

We are so grateful for all your warm thoughts and prayers during this time. I have no idea what to expect once Matthew is with us. I hope I can still regularly blog and post photos—but I’m not sure. Also, we will be leaving Hong Kong and entering into Mainland China, where Internet is strictly controlled. I hear it’s likely that I won’t be able to access this blog myself, which is why I have asked my friend Kaitlin to take over posting notes and photos for us. We have been Skyping with Maya and Sam for the past couple of days, and I’ve also been using Facetime to talk with both my brother and my sister, but starting tomorrow that might not be possible either. Mainland China feels somewhat like an unknown, but I will be able to tell you more tomorrow evening at this time, once we are there.

We are staying the Guangdong Victory Hotel—click on the name and it will link you to some photos of it. It’s a 100-year-old hotel originally built as a bank during the British occupation of China. The hotel is located on Shamian Island, which is a peaceful oasis away from the bustle of Guangzhou. The U.S. Consulate used to be housed on Shamian Island, and down the street from our hotel is the famous White Swan Hotel, where most all the adoptive families used to stay. But now the Consulate has moved to downtown Guangzhou, and the White Swan is under construction, so we decided to stay away from the noisy city on an island lined with trees and parks. It’s sure to be lovely.

That’s it from Hong Kong. Aaron says hello to everyone also. I’ve asked him if wants to write some posts, and he might as the trip goes on, but for now he’s content to let me be the family journalist.

Many adventures and much joy still await us. We continue to appreciate all the email messages of love, support and kindness as we are far from home. The kids miss us, but they report that they’re having a really good time with my parents, which is a blessing to us. We don’t like being away from them, but we’re counting the days (12, to be exact!) until we will be home and can settle in as a family of five.

A view up Nathan Road in Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon (Called the shopping "Golden Mile")

On the Star Ferry riding across to Hong Kong Island

One of the many Hong Kong Apple Stores, just one illustration of capitalism here

A view of the Tsim Sha Tsui MTR (subway) station--look at all those people

Depection of Chinese opera singers in the History Museum

A dragon from a Chinese Dragon Dance exhibit (especially for Maya!)

Friday in Hong Kong

We’ve had a fun day here in Hong Kong, exploring this city, getting attacked by wild monkeys (that would be ME who got attacked), riding the fantastic subway system, walking through some hills, seeing the Lutheran seminary where our friend Rebecca teaches (SO beautiful) and exploring the Temple Night Market, where we had dinner outside in the warm, warm air.

It’s been in the high 80s with about 90 percent humidity, so we’re roasting, but we’re also taking it easy and trying not to move to quickly, so the heat is actually kind of nice. We’re also adjusting to the time change, although it’s 8:30 p.m. here and I can’t wait to go to bed, which I will do after I write this post.

As we sat outside eating dinner tonight, Aaron and I both talked about some of the things we love about the Chinese culture. A strong sense of community is definitely one thing we appreciate, as well as the way people here are so innovative with what little they have, be it space, money, possessions, or resources. I have no idea what to expect from Mainland China, but here in Hong Kong, the people are vibrant and so alive.

For me, it’s neat to have a few days to experience Chinese culture in this way—because I want Matthew to know how much I love this place that was his first home, and I want to tell him stories about how special this country is. We also hope to bring him back here one day, along with Maya and Sam, so our whole family can share in this wonderful place together.

Here are a few snapshots from our day. This isn’t supposed to be my “travel” blog, so I won’t bore you terribly with a list of what we did today, but below are a few highlights that encapsulate our time in Hong Kong so far. All in all, though, I’m really anxious to get to Guangzhou (which we’ll do on Sunday) so we can get ready to meet Matthew on Monday sometime.

Our day in Hong Kong:

1. Dim sum at a wonderful restaurant that overlooked Shatin Park
2. A hike up to the 10,000 buddhas monastery (there are REALLY 10,000 buddhas in all)
3. Views of Kowloon Peninsula and the harbor from the Lutheran seminary grounds
4. Walking the labrynth at the Tao Fung Shan Center, also high above the city
5. Being pawed by a wild monkey as we walked back down to catch the train (ask me about this in person—it’s a moment I’ll never forget)
6. Strolling through the night market and eating outside at a local restaurant

It’s been a good day to rest and get ready for the even bigger adventures that are ahead of us!

Aaron in downtown Hong Kong as we started our day today

Walking alongside the river (city in the background)

Rebecca and me at the start of the 10,000 Buddhas Monastery

And here are some of the 10,000. They are REALLY impressive.

The Buddha that most resembled Aaron

The crazy monkey who tried to attack me

Lutheran Theological Seminary of Hong Kong (taken especially for Seongheon and Yunhui!)

View of Hong Kong and surrounding mountains

Hello Hong Kong

A send off at Sea Tac

Well we made it. After almost 24 hours of traveling, with over 14 hours in an actual airplane, we were so grateful to open the door to our hotel room in Hong Kong, schlep our bags inside, and sink deep into the white duvet cover on the bed.

Our flight left Seattle at just after 2pm on Wednesday. My dad took us to the airport, dropped us, and gave us one final round of hugs, and then we were on our own.  But it wasn’t until the doors shut with a thud on our Boeing 777 that I truly felt the enormity of what is ahead of us.

Aaron pulls luggage from the car

The next time we step foot on United States soil, I thought, we’ll have Matthew in our arms.

When we landed in Seoul, Korea, our layover destination, we knew we were truly traveling abroad.

I spent a short stint in the Seoul airport back in 1991 when my family came to Korea to visit my sister’s birth country and to meet some of the people who had cared for her during her first six years. For some reason there were complications with our departing flight, and we spent many extra hours (my memory has it as an overnight, in fact) in the Seoul airport. I was anxious to see if I remembered anything of that place.

Well, 21 years later the Seoul airport was NOT anything like I remember it, but just being in Korea felt so familiar—the sound of people speaking, the Korean characters that comprise its written language, the smells, the food—I had some very vivid flashbacks to traveling with my family in Asian when I was just 15, and mostly it was a calm sense of remembrance I experienced. What was the most obvious to me, however, was that we were now the minority, with our pale white skin and our American accents. We had landed in Asia!

After a 2 hour layover, we boarded another plane and flew another three hours to Hong Kong. By the time we were finally off the plane and through Customs and Immigration, it was almost 8:00 a.m. on Thursday morning at home, which was 11 p.m. Thursday night here in Hong Kong. We were wiped, but so happy to be here.

We followed the line of people to the taxis, and when we came through that huge ramp down toward the taxi loading area, the tropical weather hit us—heat, humidity, and the smells of a big Asian city. There was something familiar about the temperatures and the smell of exhaust mingling with cigarette smoke.

“Just four days, and we’ll have our boy,” I told Aaron. He nodded with a kind of weary excitement.

So here we are: Hong Kong. We’ll spend today and tomorrow (Friday and Saturday) sightseeing and being with a friend who worked on staff with us at Camp Lutherwood back in 1998. Her name is Rebecca, and she teaches English here at the Lutheran Seminary. She’ll be our tour guide and a familiar face to acquaint us with this new city.

There’s a quote I love that I discovered back in my college days while exploring a bookstore with my good friend Aimee. It was the first thing in my mind as I rode in a taxi through downtown Hong Kong last night:

I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.

Well, the moon wasn’t shining last night, not as far as I can see, but the quote is a reminder to me that being in other places changes us in ways we can’t even really imagine.

And even thought I sit here in this hotel room with the familiar presence of my husband beside me, typing away while he reads his book (something VERY normal for us), I can look out the window and see this vast city—a fusion of East meets West in the way only Hong Kong is—and I can’t help but feel like we’re on the verge of becoming something new—something more of ourselves—because of this amazing adventure.

A bleary-eyed shot after finally landing in Hong Kong

With Grateful Hearts

The time is almost here.

Our suitcases are packed and wait, lined up by the door, for a trip of 14,000 miles. Our hearts are aloft with anticipation and heavy with the sadness of leaving Maya and Sam behind. We’ve wiped extra tears from our children’s cheeks, given a multitude of extra hugs and kisses, and prepared them as best we can.

We’ve double checked passports, adoption documents, medications and snacks and toys for Matthew, and our own list of clothes, books, and gadgets.

We’re as ready as we can be. So off we go tomorrow, into one of life’s most significant adventures, and we’re so glad you are coming with us in spirit.

The house is still right now, quiet as two small people sleep in their beds, and I have a few minutes to sit in silence and let the reality of our journey sink in.

But all I can think about is how supported and loved I feel in this moment—by people like you, dear ones, who are reading this blog and joining us on this adventure.

You’ve done so many things for us:

• Helped us with the discernment process when we began to consider adoption in concrete ways
• Written us letters of recommendation that were included in our homestudy
• Read and advised us on Matthew’s referral
• Sent us generous financial gifts when we thought we couldn’t pull the money together to go to China
• Bought presents and wrote cards and showered us with love and blessings during our time of expectancy
• Dropped off meals for our freezer, to eat when we get home
• Offered to watch kids, walk them to school, or organize playdates while we are gone
• Signed up to pray for us each day of our journey
• Sent emails and left voice mail messages these past few days so we didn’t feel alone

And how could possibly feel alone, with so many amazing friends and family members companioning us on this journey? We’re about to do the most crazy thing we’ve ever done in our lives, travel halfway around the world to meet our son, and we’ve never felt more loved and supported. We’ve never felt so enveloped in intentionality and encouragement.

We hope that our adventure is yours as well.

Tomorrow it begins, a commencement of sorts—and we embark with full hearts and grateful spirits. But as we do, please know that every kind word, action, prayer, hug, and thought you have offered has bolstered us with hope and strength. You have given us more courage than we thought possible. We are deeply moved and so very thankful.

You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.  ~Frederick Buechner

 (A very special thanks to Alyson for sharing the Buechner quote above—it spoke to the core of my being tonight.)

Why We Are Adopting

After speaking about our adoption at chapel recently, a woman came up to me and said, “I’m struck by how generous a thing it is that you and your husband are adopting this child. It’s just such a generous thing to do.”

I know this comment was meant as a compliment, but ask any adoptive parent and we will tell you that “generosity” makes us feel like martyrs, and adopting a child is something else entirely.

There’s no moment in time when Aaron and I heard the voice of God telling us to adopt or just knew deep in our hearts that it was what we wanted or needed to do. I suppose it started as a long process of realizing that the world is broken, that there are millions of children without families all around the world, and that our family of four had love and resources enough to be a family of five.

Our Christian faith motivates us to stretch outside our tidy lives and care in radical ways for the world around us. We try to make sure each act of our living honors humankind and the natural world, and when we knew that we really wanted three children, we realized that we could add to our family by adopting a child who was already in the world—a child who had no family. We could BE family for that child.

Having grown up in an adoptive family myself, I already knew that we’re not family to each other because of some genetic or blood connection, but being someone’s mama or sister is about intentionality, about shared experiences, and about a deep sense of community. My sister, who happens to be adopted, is as much an Eklund as I am. We share a common sense of humor, shared history, and a deep love for each other. Her story is her own, and I’d never want to minimize her history or tell you that somehow it’s not important, because it’s very important. But perhaps just as important are the almost three decades that she’s been in our family, the way we are all knit together as if we were blood-related, and the fact that family is about choice and commitment most of all.

I can’t speak for Aaron, so I won’t, but for me, the love I have for my sister is a huge part of why I wanted to start this journey of international adoption. It’s not about generosity, although perhaps it is somewhat about living intentionally, about letting our family reflect our values of inclusivity, community and a sort of counter-culture living.

But we also anticipate (perhaps selfishly) the gift that Matthew will be to all of us—the way he will change and shape us, make us more patient and loving, teach us how to love him and each other even better than we already do.

A recent UNICEF study estimated that there are 132 million orphans in the world right now. That’s 132,000,000 children who have no parents or family members to care for them. That’s an astounding number to me, a number that leaves me feeling helpless and small.

But just as I can’t solve the problems of global pollution or consumption but I can recycle and live gently and use fewer resources, so too our family can have a third child not through birth but through adoption, lowering that ghastly statistic by one child, one special child, our son Matthew.

Who also comes home to all of you, by the way—his extended family and community—who have supported us through the journey of the past many months, and who wait with us to welcome this boy home. And for this, we are so very thankful.

Here is Matthew at 16 months in his orphanage, with a little friend at his side.

The time is coming soon

We are just six days away from hopping on the airplane and flying to China to get our boy. This is a busy time at our house, which feels like a blessing during this time of waiting. It's the last week of the term at Trinity, so I'm busy giving and grading finals, posting grades, and participating in graduation events.

Aaron's booked himself solid in anticipation of a two-week absence. Maya and Sam are keeping busy with school and life. Today was Sam's last day of preschool for the year, and Aaron and I took him out to lunch afterwards to celebrate. It's amazing to think that soon he'll be a four year old.

And Matthew waits in his orphanage for us to come get him. He has ten more nights in his crib--he's ten nights away from his second major life transition, one I hope will go as smoothly as possible but I also know will be significant and a major loss for him.

Please, if you're reading this, keep our boy in your thoughts or prayers right now. I can't imagine how this whole experience will be for him, but I do know that it is a big thing. We have been waiting for him for six months, but he probably doesn't even know about us, or if he does, it's just in name.

And even though we can imagine the goodness that's ahead of him in his life because he'll join our family, at first all he will sense is a huge transition and a loss. A loss of everything familiar. A loss of the only people and places he's ever known.

For those of you who haven't followed our adoption journey, here is a little trip through Matthew's life so far, illustrated in photos. He's growing and changing--and soon he'll be doing all those things as a Russell. We can't wait to meet him--to hold him--to bring him home. And the time has almost come.

Matthew's referral photo--he's six months old in this photo.

Here he is at one year old--growing bigger and so handsome!

This is a photo taken when Matthew's fourteen months.

And finally a recent photo--sixteen months.

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there. We enjoyed a gorgeous Pacific Northwest day (I think it hit 78 degrees here!!). Our four went to church, then we joined up with the rest of my family for a hike up in Skagit County followed by an early dinner at one of our favorite brew pubs.

I ended the day with a solitary run while watching the sun go down--breathless. I felt loved and celebrated.

Countdown

We are just two weeks away from bringing our boy home from China. In two weeks, we'll get on board a plane, fly to Hong Kong (where we'll spend three days), take a train to Guangzhou, and prepare to meet our third child.

In the most recent pictures we were went of Matthew, he was all smiles. What a gift that our boy already has something to smile about, even though he's spent the first 18 months of his life in an orphanage. We hope to see that smile a dozen times a day!

What a gift it will be to finally hold that sweet boy in our arms, after waiting for him for almost six months. His Gotcha day, the day we meet him and get to finally be his parents, will be his 18-month birthday. This is special for us for many reasons: it means that for the entire second half of his second year of life, we get to be his parents. It is also six months to the day from when we received his referral. We were matched on his first birthday.

We can't wait to squeeze this sweet boy, to watch him move, to hear his voice, and to know a little bit about him. And we can't wait for all of you to meet him one day too. Thank you for walking with us through this adoption journey.

Here he is driving a little car.

And there's his sweet grin--we love it!