Step 14: Learning to say "my daughter"

We leave for China in one week!

After waiting so long, I'm excited but I'm also getting nervous. I haven't even started packing because I'm so worried that I will have too much luggage or forget to pack something important or...I don't know what else. I just worry all the time.

All day and all night my brain seems intent on worrying me into a frenzy. I try to tell myself to be calm. Everything will happen in its own time. It will all work out. I tell myself to take deep breaths, to relax, to sleep, but my brain won't shut off.

This is happening!

My main projects for yesterday and today have been trying to coordinate doctors' appointments for Pearl for when we return from China. My first call was to my employer's human resources department to ask about designating a primary care provider for Pearl and adding her to my medical insurance. The HR lady was really helpful and I made an appointment to go through paperwork with her on the Monday morning after we return from China.

Check one thing off my to-do list.

I then called a local pediatrician's office to make an appointment. The website cheerily informed me that the doctor is indeed accepting new patients but the receptionist was quick to tell me by telephone that the practice is closed. This is a highly regarded and experienced pediatrician. I want this doctor to be Pearl's doctor. This doctor WILL be Pearl's doctor.

I must admit, I did it. I told myself I wouldn't do it but then I did it anyway.

I played the doctor card.

I'd like to think the "doctor card" looks something like this.

"Really?" I said. "I'm a physician here and I would really appreciate it if the doctor could accept my daughter as his patient. Her needs are complex and I just wouldn't feel comfortable with a less experienced physician."

Sadly, this is not the first time I've played the doctor card since I graduated from medical school, but I must say that I have become much more judicious about how I use it. In this case, it actually worked!

Check item #2 off the to-do list! 

My next call was to a pediatric specialty clinic at the University Hospital located twenty minutes away from Blahtown. Now this was an interesting exchange. To begin with, the receptionist was not at all familiar with Pearl's special need. 

Hmmm. A bit surprising, to be sure, but perhaps not alarming in and of itself. 

I patiently explained about the upcoming trip to China and Pearl's special need. She Googled it while we were on the phone together.

The receptionist then asked me several detailed questions about Pearl and her habits. I knew the answer to precisely two of those questions: I knew her name and I knew her date of birth (estimated given the orphan status, but I didn't even bother to say that since I didn't want to complicate matters further for the poor woman). I was not able to tell her anything about Pearl's eating habits, sleeping habits, bowel habits, etc. I was starting to get the "I'm talking to a really bad mother here" vibe off of her so I reminded her that I have not met Pearl. I will not meet Pearl for another week and a half. Pearl is in China and I am not. I have never met Pearl. I have had only sporadic and cryptic updates from various caregivers for the past 8 months, so perhaps a bit of slack could be cut for me just this once.

She finally seemed to get it and got me a very good appointment slot within two weeks of our return from China. She then said, "And you don't need a translator, right?"

Um. Maybe? Pearl is three years old so she may need a translator or she may not. I don't know because I haven't met her yet.

The poor receptionist honestly seemed completely alarmed that the child I'm adopting from China is - get this - Chinese!

At least I got the appointment. Check item #3 off the list!

My next stop was to the pharmacy where the pharmacist and both pharmacy techs helped me to buy one of every over-the-counter medication available. That statement is an exaggeration, but not by much.

In addition to prescriptions for ciprofloxacin, azithromycin, and Permethrin (My motto is "better to plan for disaster and be pleasantly surprised by a lack of scabies!"), I purchased children's and adult's acetaminophen, Pepto Bismol, nasal saline, Miralax powder, loperamide (Imodium), melatonin, cetirizine (Zyrtec), diphenhydramine (Benadryl), glycerin suppositories, Band-aids, and two different kinds of diaper rash cream. 

Yes, many of my travel nightmares relate to feces or a lack thereof. I freely admit it.

I still need to find Ex-Lax and enemas, though. The pharmacy was out of Ex-Lax and enemas.

With my mobile first aid station nearly stocked, I then turned my attention to the next item on my list: worrying about travel documents. I have a folio with documents, copies of documents, and more documents. I'm still waiting for the adoption agency to send the original Travel Authorization, but once I receive that, the original and multiple copies will go into the folio as well. Of course, I'm terrified that the original TA won't arrive in time, but I have so much else to worry about right now that I can't even focus on that fear. For instance, how does one transport thousands of dollars in cash across continents without losing one's mind with fear?

Now that night has fallen, though, I have actually had some quiet moments and a chance to reflect a little. Yesterday and today were the first times that I used the words "my daughter" to describe Pearl.

Whoa. 

My daughter.

Those are some amazing words. Of course, she isn't my daughter until she's in my arms and the adoption is finalized, but I had to say those words to get her what she needs: insurance coverage, doctors' appointments, medications.

She's really going to be my daughter - SOON!

For her sake and mine, I hope that she doesn't need the enemas and the permethrin.

Step 13: Things get real

After what feels like a never ending wait, things are now happening with lightening speed!

Our completed DS-260 document was dropped off on 10/30/14, and our Article 5 was scheduled to be picked up on 11/17/14. I have been oh-so-impatiently waiting for our travel authorization, the final "permission slip" from the Chinese authorities that lets us travel to China to adopt Pearl. Many of the parents in my Facebook adoption groups have been posting about receiving their travel authorizations, choosing their US Consulate appointment dates, and finalizing travel plans, but we have heard...silence.

The agency wouldn't even confirm that the Article 5 was picked up. They just kept saying that they would only hear something if there was a problem. They told me that the travel authorization typically takes 2-3 weeks. Patience was recommended.

Meanwhile, it seemed like every other adoptive parent with a timeline similar to ours was posting that their travel authorization was ready in 6 or 7 days.

To say that I was getting upset and anxious would be the understatement of the decade.

Finally on Monday, 11/24/14, I sent a message to our agency asking if they received our travel authorization ("TA") yet. I figured it's been a week since the Article 5 was picked up and presumably taken by courier to CCCWA, so it should totally be ready. The next day, I received a response that our TA was pending.

Pending.

What the heck?

Is that "pending" as in, ready to go any time now? Or is that "pending" as in, it's nearly Thanksgiving and we plan to put you off until after the holiday weekend? The definition of "pending" certainly was not clear from that message, but the agency representative cheerily informed me that this was "exciting news" (picture air quotes here as you read this, please).

I was not excited. I was impatient. I was worried. I was not happy with my agency. I finally resigned myself to having to wait until next week for the travel authorization. I figured that we would receive the TA Monday and then have to wait a few more days for a US Consulate appointment and then, in all likelihood, we probably would not get to go get Pearl until January.

January! Sigh. But what could we do other than wait? I vowed to show grace for once in my life, but I must admit I spent a sleepless night last night. My thoughts were not gracious.

This morning, I was in a meeting at work and thought I would check my email just to torture myself some more with the lack of progress. And - guess what!!!

OK. It's kind of anticlimactic since I stated at the beginning of the post that things are happening now with lightening speed...

But I'm going to tell you anyway and you need to act surprised and excited!

There was a message from our agency informing us that our travel authorization arrived and - get this! - we have an appointment at the US Consulate in Guangzhou, China, on December 22nd!!

AAAHHHHH!!!! IT'S REALLY HAPPENING!!!

I whooped. Yes, right there in that meeting while someone was talking about something entirely un-whoopworthy. I then had to explain my whoop, which led to much excitement. I then excused myself to call Angry Driver.

I expected enthusiasm. I told him about the TA, the consulate appointment, the need to get a copy of Bean's passport to the agency ASAP, and the need to contact the travel agency to arrange our flights before 4 PM today. Since today is the day before Thanksgiving, everything had to be arranged today or else nothing could be done until Monday.

Angry Driver seemed excited, I guess. Mainly, he just kept saying that he and Bean were at the barber shop waiting to get haircuts, but that there was a bit of a wait so he could just leave and go home and take care of the travel stuff.

"No, no," I said. "Get your haircuts. Just make sure to get this done before 4 PM".

After five minutes of arguing with Angry Driver that he did not, in fact, need to leave the barber shop at that exact moment but could indeed take care of the details after the haircuts in an hour or so (it was only about 9 AM at that point), I finally told him that I had to actually work at work so I was hanging up.

By the time I got back to my office three hours later, I had 4 texts and two voicemails (one on my work cell phone and one on my personal cell phone). They were all from Angry Driver, who wanted me to make various flight decisions. People think that I'm bossy but what they don't understand is that if I don't make decisions, decisions just don't get made.

By 4 PM, the three of us were booked for travel from Blahtown to Beijing on 12/10/14. And 4 of us (!) are booked to fly from Hong Kong back to Blahtown on 12/24/14.

That's right! We are getting the best Christmas present ever: our Pearl!

Now that it is all happening, I'm starting to freak out a little. There is so much to do. We have cleaning, and packing, and organizing. My awesome uncle has agreed to house-sit for our six cats, our dog, and our hamster so we need to help make his travel arrangements. I need lists for my lists!

It still doesn't feel like this is happening in my actual life, but I know that things are about to get very real.

Game on!

Step 12: The birth of a pearl

  A few weeks ago, Angry Driver told me that he was planning to go to the local public library, and he asked if I wanted him to check out any particular books. I asked him to bring me some "adoption books". With that vague instruction, Angry Driver returned home with several non-fiction books on adoption. Currently, I'm reading one of them: 20 Things Adoptive Parents Need to Succeed by Sherrie Eldridge.

  Eldridge herself was adopted as an infant and she shares many valuable insights from the perspective of an adoptee. This has been a thought-provoking read for me thus far.

  Throughout the adoption process it has been a bit tempting for me to think of our little Pearl as a treasure who will spring fully-formed from the orphanage as soon as we travel to China to retrieve her. However, Pearl is Pearl because of the experiences she has had and the life she has lived thus far. Each and every moment she shared with her birth mother (and perhaps other biological family members), hospital caregivers, orphanage nannies, other children, and hospital staff has contributed another layer to who Pearl is and who she will always be, just as a literal pearl is a pearl because of the layering of nacre over time. Each pearl is a unique masterpiece because of its particular oyster and its individual formation process.

  It would be less complicated for me to place Pearl into a fancy new setting (perhaps a ring? or a nice necklace?) and tell her story as, "This is my daughter who was meant to be my daughter, just as I was meant to be her mother."

  But that is not Pearl's story, just as a natural pearl does not form in the prongs of a ring or in the stringing of a necklace. And this isn't about me: this is about Pearl. This is about Pearl, whose core formed thousands of miles away with people she may never meet. This is about Pearl, who has had no voice thus far in her own formation process, as layer after layer of nacre forms around that core. She has a genetic history and a birth history. I don't know much about that history and we may never know enough to satisfy Pearl's curiosity but it is still a part of her story. She has a medical history and an orphanage history and a foster home history. She will have a forever family history with us that is yet to be written, and her perspective on the events that are about to unfold will be her own. I will be her forever mother and I will add layers to her life story, but I can no more lay claim to the title of her only mother than a jeweler can boast of creating a pearl by setting it into a piece of wearable art. What kind of mother would I be to her if I can't honor her unique formation process and celebrate who she is now and who she will become?

  Adding a child to our family through adoption has been an awesome process so far - and the adoption process is only just beginning, even though it feels like we have been trapped in the conceptualization stage forever. What layers are yet to be added? What will Bean and Pearl look like when they are grown? When we as parents are only memories to them?

  Recently, I heard a story from a man who told me of his three children: one adopted, one biological, and one a foster child. All three are young adults now, venturing out into the world. The man told me that one of his children is gliding easily through life and he has few worries about that child's prospects for the future. One other of the children is struggling - struggling with addiction, with mental illness, with the consequences of poor decisions. The father told me that he aches to see this child suffer. He has done everything he can to protect and nurture the struggling child but he is beginning to realize that the parent who cleared the way ahead for an unsteady toddler is not capable of removing obstacles from the path of a wildly careening young adult. He worries for this child and prays for this child, but he knows that there is little else he can do at this point. The third child is at the cusp of adulthood and the father knows that the road ahead is uncertain. He sees this youngest child torn in several directions and he worries that the child will choose a path of heartache and chaos, despite the firm foundation of love and support the family provided.

  This was a compelling story to hear and I found myself wondering, which is the foster child? Which is the biological child? Is the "easy" child the adopted child, or is it the one who is struggling with mental illness and drugs? I nearly asked the father and then it occurred to me: it doesn't matter. This man sees all three children as his children. They are all his children and he is the father to all of them. He has three pearls and he has embraced each of their stories and incorporated them into a family story.

  He is "all in", as they say.

  And, you know what? So am I.
 
 

Step 11: Euphoria!

It finally came! The long-awaited Letter of Seeking Confirmation from Adopter (colloquially known as the "Letter of Acceptance" or "LOA") finally arrived. At long last, things are starting to move forward again.

We received a message from our agency notifying us that they had received the LOA on October 3rd. The letter was sent to us via overnight mail and we quickly signed it and returned it to the agency on October 4th. Here it is in all its (redacted) magnificence:

It's official, peeps!

Now that we have our letter of acceptance, I can officially introduce our little Pearl. I think she's pretty awesome and here is the photographic evidence to back up my claim:

Angry Driver is especially fond of this last picture since it shows our little Pearl gazing fondly upon the Communist Party symbol embedded in a paper flower.

Having the LOA means that we can also mail Pearl's care package. Yeah! After much deliberation, we settled upon the following contents:

1) Handmade purple elephant blanket square, crafted with love and angst by yours truly

2) Flash drive on which the Children's Welfare Institute (CWI) will hopefully put digital pictures of our daughter so that she has some record of her early life.

3) Photo book with pictures of our home and family. The captions are in English and Mandarin (or at least a Google Translate version of Mandarin simplified characters).

4) One disposable one-time-use camera. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a disposable film camera in this day and age? Quite difficult, actually. Our hope is that Pearl's caregivers snap some pictures of her for us and that we get the camera back when we pick her up. We shall see. They will probably laugh hysterically at the idea of anyone using a camera with film.

5) One complete outfit. This includes a pink kitty cat shirt, a skirt, pink cat tights, a white sweater, underpants, and matching shoes. I obsessed over which outfit to include, the sizes to buy, etc. In the end, I just have to hope that she gets the clothes and that they fit. If they don't fit, I hope some other child enjoys wearing this because it is adorable!  

6) A letter introducing ourselves to the CWI, thanking them for the excellent care that Pearl is receiving, and explaining the contents of the care package. Concluding that Google Translate was probably not up to the task of translating an entire letter, I took the advice of my Facebook mentors and turned to Ann at Red Thread China. It would have been nice to send the entire care package through her service, but our agency said that this was strictly verboten. Nevertheless, I paid $20, e-mailed the letter in English last night, and received a translated version today. Now that is service!

The final product.

I'm sure that it will cost a small fortune to mail this care package to China, but my hopes are that Pearl will get it, that her caregivers will know that we are excited to meet her, and that they will have some inkling of just how much we will treasure her for the rest of our lives!

The other Project of the Month is the I-800. This is the application that goes to USCIS (you remember my Citizenship and Immigration friends, right?) seeking approval for us to adopt Pearl specifically. Once the LOA was signed and returned on 10/3/14, I quickly completed the forms and mailed the I-800 packet on 10/4/14. 

Easy peasy. 

Actually....no. 

This involved completing the I-800 Petition to Classify Convention Adoptee as an Immediate Relative, the I-800 Supplement 1 Consent to Disclose Information, the G-1145 e-Notification of Application/Petition Acceptance, the I-800A Supplement 3 Request for Action on Approved Form I-800A, and the I-864W Intending Immigrant's Affidavit of Support Exemption. I also included our home study addendum, a copy of our current I-800A approval notice, a copy of all of Pearl's referral documents in English and in Chinese, a copy of the signed LOA, a statement from our agency verifying that Angry Driver and I completed our required pre-adoption training and attesting that Pearl's documents are accurate, and...a check for $360, naturally.

Now aren't you impressed that I started and finished all that on October 3rd and mailed the packet out on the morning of October 4th?? 

With all of this stuff done, I can relax. And by "relax", I mean I can start on the applications for our travel visas. Honestly, I don't even mind all of this paperwork and running around because it is sooo much better than sitting around waiting for other people to do things. And all of this work brings us that much closer to meeting our little Pearl!

Step 10: Crafting a strategy to cope with the long wait for LOA

Today is day 46. Our dossier was logged in on July 17, 2014, and translated two weeks later. We have been waiting for our letter of acceptance (LOA) for forty-six days. I'm starting to think we will never get our LOA, but I just keep telling myself to be patient. Any day now...any day now...any day now...this wait is interminable!

How then to fill my time? Work takes up most of my week, yes, as well as most of my weekends. Family obligations also use up many hours, especially now that Bean is back in school. And, of course, there is cooking, cleaning, exercising, reading, ballroom dancing, volunteering, church attendance, competitive restaurant dining (i.e. - eating out), internet surfing, bathing, shopping, and sleeping. However, even with all those activities, there are still large blocks of time that stretch unfilled before me.  Unfilled time is not my friend. The quiet hours are when I obsess:

When will that LOA arrive?

What is Pearl doing right now? Is she happy? Is she healthy?

What will it be like when we travel to China?

What will it be like when she is home with us?

What if the LOA comes when we are out of town?

What if China declines to match us with Pearl? I know we have PA, but still...

Will we be able to travel before Christmas?

How much is all this costing us?

When will that d@*n LOA arrive?

I think you get the picture. In an attempt to minimize the constant ruminating,  I have turned once again to crafting.

Fact: I am not an artistic person.

My posts thus far may make it seem as though I am reasonably good at arts and crafts projects, but my skills are really more along the lines of "Nailed It" than "Pinterest":

courtesy of http://justsomething.co/the-34-most-hilarious-pinterest-fails-ever/

Fortunately, I am nothing if not determined and so I persevere. Angry Driver has exhaled many an exasperated sigh, but he nevertheless continues to support me in these efforts.  I guess that makes him my enabler. Perhaps he figures that if I am obsessing about some art project, I won't be obsessing about the dust on the furniture or the ridiculous amount of television he watches.

A few nights ago, I was looking online at adoption gifts - both gifts to give adopted children and gifts for family members of adopted children - and I came across some pretty necklaces with the simplified Chinese characters for various familial relationships (such as "grandmother" or "aunt"). At that point, I could have done the sensible thing and ordered the custom necklaces, but if you know anything about me by now, it is that I rarely do the logical thing.

As my mother told me once: common sense is for common people.

(I'm pretty sure that particular nugget of wisdom is absolutely meaningless, but it sounds good so I continue to use it while congratulating myself on being delightfully uncommon.)

I decided right then and there that I would make these necklaces myself rather than purchase them.

I think it is important to point out here that the necklaces I saw online were well crafted and reasonably priced. I also feel compelled to state that I have no experience with jewelry making beyond stringing plastic beads on lanyards years ago at summer camp.

One trip to the local craft store later, I got started. I launched into production mode this morning, but quickly realized that I was missing several necessary supplies (such as any form of credible adhesive), so the family got dragged to a second craft store.

Here are the final products:

"Mama" pendant for me

"Maternal grandmother" pendant on left, for my mother

"Grandmother" pendants (simplified characters and Pinyin) on right, for my stepmother and my mother-in-law

 

Once again I am hoping that Google Translate has come through for me. If these words do not mean what I think they mean, it is probably better not to tell me since there is a 95% probability that I would burst into tears.

 

Naturally, I did not think this through well enough to determine just how I will get these pendants onto necklace chains, but I figure that will be a problem for another day. 

 

Actually, the more likely scenario is that I will enlist Angry Driver to finagle a solution. I "make it" and he "makes it happen" as it were.

My final project on this aptly titled Labor Day was a keepsake for Pearl. Since we will not be keeping her Chinese name, I thought it would be nice to honor her orphanage name by making a necklace with the characters. She can wear it (or not wear it) as she sees fit when she is a bit older.

Note how this one actually went onto a chain. That was pure blind luck and in no way represents any kind of actual talent on my part.

And that is how I filled yet another day of waiting. Day 46 is in the books. I really hope the wait for LOA is nearly over since I'm not entirely sure that my wallet (or my husband's patience) can handle too many more art projects.

Step 9: Putting the "care" in care package

Our dossier is logged in and translated, so now there is nothing to do but wait until we receive our Letter of Acceptance (LOA) from CCCWA. Once we sign and return the LOA, our match will be official and we can share details like pictures. We will also be able to send a care package if we choose. Until then, I continue to obsessively read and plan.

The interweb is rife with editorials regarding the ethics of sending or not sending a care package to a soon-to-be adopted child. I'm pretty sure that I have read every single comment on the topic. I've also queried my Facebook groups and the China Adopt Talk forum parents to solicit more advice.

I'm a firm believer in data. As in, the more the better.

Why is it controversial to send a care package to a child in an orphanage? First, care packages are apparently not practical in an orphanage environment. This is only logical, since clothing or toys can get dirty or lost. When many, many kids live in one institution, it can't possibly be practical to keep a particular item with a particular child. I'm sure caregivers don't appreciate more work: more laundry, more hassle, more tears from children who don't understand the concept of personal belongings. I once visited an orphanage in Honduras on a medical mission trip and found over fifty children and no toys. Clothes were washed in batches and rotated amongst children without regard for fashion or preference. In fact, there was little regard even for accurate sizing. Childcare is enough work without that kind of hassle.

Also, a care package singles out one child as different. This is not always a good thing, as I well recall from my own childhood. A little girl who has a family waiting for her can become a target for those who have not yet been chosen, or for those who may never be adopted. My grandparents often accused me of being a "Selfish Sally" when I was little and, sadly, I must admit that I was not keen on sharing. I was also not always happy for other children who had nice clothes, fancy toys, pretty houses, and both parents. Jealousy and I were no strangers. I can't even imagine what a child who has been passed over for adoption thinks and feels. I cried during the scene in "Annie" when the other orphans beg to be adopted with the red-headed moppet - and that was just a musical.

I have read tales of children in Social Welfare Institutes who were not given the care packages at all, or they were given the package the day the parents picked them up. In some cases, the child was told that the package came from the SWI caregivers and not the adoptive parents. There certainly is no guarantee when you mail an unsolicited package to strangers in a foreign country.

So why send a care package?

First, because it makes me feel like I am doing something for my child. I missed out on pregnancy, delivery, first words, first smiles, first hugs, first steps, and a host of medical procedures and opportunities to comfort and enjoy Little Pearl during her first few years of life. Selecting and mailing small items makes me feel close to her and makes the adoption seem more real. Also, whether they choose to give the package to her or not, these small gifts send her caregivers the message that there are people who truly want and can provide for this child.

A care package also gives us a chance to introduce ourselves to Little Pearl and her caregivers. By including a letter and pictures or a photo album, we let our almost-daughter and her nannies know a bit about us and how we are preparing for her arrival.

A small comfort item like a lovey is supposed to familiarize Little Pearl with our scents and the smells of our home. I have to admit, I am a bit skeptical about this one. The attachment books all talk about the importance of such items, but I'm used to thinking about  de"scent"sitization as being beneficial for dogs and cats, not humans. I guess we shall see if the theory has any merit.

We thought about using a care package service to send the items directly from within China, and many such services exist. They seem like a great idea, but I was concerned that this would violate CCCWA's regulations. The rules state something to the effect that no third parties can inquire about or contact the child on our behalf while the adoption is in process. In my online research, I've found many adoptive parents who used care package services without any adverse effects, but we ultimately decided not to take the risk.

Angry Driver and I have already selected some items for Little Pearl's care package, which will have to be approximately shoe-box sized or smaller. We had a code for a free hardcover Shutterfly book, so we created an album containing her referral pictures along with pictures of us, Bean, a few of our pets, and our home. We then attempted to create labels with Mandarin simplified characters to caption some of the photos.

 

Hopefully, the translations are sound since we were at the Mercy of Google Translate. 

I thought about adding a Mandarin translation of "playroom" to accompany the photo of our toy room, but then I worried that I would inadvertently end up with the Fifty Shades of Grey version of "playroom". This may seem like an irrational fear, but a similar thing actually happened years ago during a presentation in my college French class. Every student in my class accidentally used the wrong French term for "excite", causing much embarrassment for us students and resulting in much mirth for the professor.

Anyway, one nice thing about Shutterfly is that the albums are all saved under my profile. That way, if the book gets lost at the SWI, or if they decide not to give it to Little Pearl, we can always reprint it for her as a keepsake.

We then turned our attention to finding a suitable comfort object. We hoped to find two identical loveys. One would go in the care package and the other would be a spare that we take with us to China in case the original is lost or damaged. After searching multiple stores and online purveyors of goods, I was unable to find two small identical loveys that met my obsessive standards. What obsessive standards, you ask?

First, the objects had  to be identical. I found that it is not easy to find two of anything unless quality is not a concern or I want to spend a lot of money.

Second, the lovey could not be made in China. It seems silly to me to send Little Pearl something that was manufactured in China, shipped to the United States, and then mailed back to China.

Third, the color of the lovey had to be one that would not show every stain possible. Few things are worse than a stained and dingy lovey, IMHO.

Finally, the lovey had to be special. Meaningful. Personal. This condition proved to be the most problematic.

As I am not known for doing things the easy way (or even the less difficult way), I ultimately elected to make the loveys myself. For those of you who sew, you are probably at this point thinking, "Big deal. Sounds like a piece of cake".

Well, it is a big deal for me because I do not know how to sew. At all. Not even a little bit. I can't even sew a button. Yes, I am one of those horrible people who loses a button to a shirt and either wears the shirt without all of the buttons or disposes of the shirt altogether. My last real attempt at sewing was a pillow in sixth grade Home Economics, and that was an unmitigated disaster. If that teacher is still living, she is probably still shuddering at the memory. When our sofa ripped a few years ago, I repaired it by stitching a horizontal mattress suture with dental floss.

Amazingly enough, given what I just confessed, we actually do own a small sewing machine. Angry Driver bought a basic machine a few years ago, but neither of us knows the first thing about sewing so the beast has lurked untouched in our laundry room. Firm in my belief that all things are possible with Google, I pulled the sewing machine out of storage, found a Simple Boutique Baby Lovey pattern online, hit the fabric store, and set to work.

One side is purple elephant flannel and the other is white minky. Minky is, I learned, that super baby soft blankie fabric that feels so warm and nice against the skin. The edging is purple blanket ribbon that was, alas, fabricated in China. One truly cannot have it all.

The end result actually isn't half bad, just so long as one doesn't examine the stitching from a distance of less than about 18 inches. On close inspection, my complete lack of anything approaching actual skill is obvious, but it's the thought that counts, right?

I would like to say that these were made with love, and they were.

 Love, and lots and lots of profanity. A few tears as well.

In terms of other goodies for the care package, we plan to include a disposable camera in the hopes that Little Pearl's nannies will snap some photos for us. We will also include some Crayola crayons (still proudly made in the USA!), a small outfit, and some candy for the nannies and other kids. Finally, we will add a short letter in English and Mandarin explaining the package. We plan to actually have a person who speaks Mandarin translate the letter since I doubt highly that Google Translate is up to the task.

If all goes well, we should have LOA in the next 4-8 weeks. Then we can mail the care package and begin the countdown to travel. Hope springs eternal! Or, as Angry Driver is fond of saying, Spring hopes attorney!

Step 8: A case of the guilts

A few members of our agency's China Team just returned from a trip to China and they brought us an unexpected treat: a video of our soon-to-be-adopted child! We don't have official approval of the match (LOA), so I can't post pictures or video or give any identifying information. Since she will be a treasure to us, why don't we refer to her henceforth as "Pearl"?

Aside from the rash that looks alarmingly like scabies, she is so adorable. The video shows Pearl seated on the floor next to her caregiver, happily pouring small beads from a bottle into various bowls. As an aside, apparently Chinese children do not choke on small objects the way we all fear that American toddlers will if we give them tiny beads. She looks so much more grown up than she did in the referral video we received a few months ago, and in fact, we initially thought the agency made a mistake and sent us footage of the wrong child. However, after several viewings, we were able to identify features that this older child shares with her younger self. To think, adoptive parents used to receive one grainy photo prior to picking up their child. It is indeed a brave new world, one in which video updates can be uploaded and e-mailed around the planet in moments.

Little Pearl is wearing a sweet red shirt with cute little matching shoes. Her caregiver appears to be the same one who accompanied her in the first video, and I have to wonder whether she is our (almost) daughter's foster mother; we still don't know whether Pearl lives at the SWI or in a foster home. She looks well fed and her clothes match. The matching clothes thing seems self-evident, I'm sure, but most videos and photos we see of Chinese orphans show them bundled in layer after layer of mismatched clothing.

I've viewed the brief video several times over the last 24 hours and each time I watch her playing contentedly with her makeshift toy, I become more and more excited. This is really going to happen! Unfortunately, now that our future daughter has a face and a name, each day that passes is a day without Pearl, and my admittedly great and fulfilling life suddenly seems dull and incomplete because she is not in it. Angry Driver and Bean are excited and anxious too. Hardly a day passes without a discussion about "When we go to China" or what we will do when Pearl joins our family.

As excited as we all are, the experience is not without an element of dysphoria. This child is blissfully unaware of our existence. No, she doesn't have a family right now, but she has adults who dress her and feed her and worry about her and care for her. I'm sure she has friends and favorite activities. We are preparing for her, but she knows nothing about us. There will be a huge seismic shift in her life, and no one has even told her to prepare for the earthquake.

I feel for this sweet girl when I try to look at this impending adoption through her eyes. What seems so wonderful to us will, in all likelihood, be frightening and overwhelming to Pearl. When we finally hold her for the first time, I imagine that we will smile and shed happy tears. How will Pearl feel? How will she react?

What will our first day as a family be like for her? What will the first year be like? Will a grown-up Pearl look back on the day of her adoption with happiness? With bitterness? Will she remember the day at all?

I feel guilty. There. I've named it.

What right do I have to remove this child from her world and deposit her in mine? Is this what is truly best for her? I tell myself that even if we did not adopt Pearl, another American family most certainly would. There is no reality in which this child grows up with her birth family and, in fact, we know nothing of her birth family. That disruption happened long before we even decided to adopt a child from China. In an ideal world, children are raised within their biological families with a strong sense of identity and belonging. This is most certainly not that ideal world.

Here is the moment in which I must practice a concept known as radical acceptance. It is what it is.

The situation is that we made a decision to adopt a child from China, a child is living under the care of the Chinese government and has been made available for international adoption, and our family has been matched with this child. I don't really believe in fate, but perhaps a conglomeration of circumstances congealed in such a way that this is the final product. Gosh, doesn't that sound like an appealing concept?

My pledge is that I will always try to see the world through my children's eyes. I will strive to be their soft place to fall. I can't prevent all the earthquakes in their lives, but, to the best of my ability, I will shield them, protect them, and prepare them. My hope is that a strong foundation of love and support will prevent crumbling later in life. And a little maternal guilt won't hurt that foundation too much, right?