Chloe By Donna Bloom Mao Xiao Pin’s picture appeared on my computer, looking so very serious for one so young. There was a reason for that serious look, and it was all too obvious. The little girl in the picture was covered with dark patches of skin, some very tiny, but others like large blotches of black paint. Her hair was shaved very short, so she did not even have bangs and long hair to conceal the extent of her condition. The accompanying letter identified her as a 6-year-old girl from Maoming, China. It asked for donations to help pay the cost of surgery for her. She was born with a condition called congenital hairy nevus (overgrown mole tissue). Without the surgery, she would be deemed unadoptable, and would spend the rest of her childhood in the orphanage. I thought how about how unfair it was. Beyond the blotched skin, I saw the face of an adorable little girl who deserved a family of her own. Initially, I simply attempted to raise funds for her surgery. Within the month, however, I was beginning to think of the possibility of adopting Mao Xiao Pin. I was pretty sure I wanted her to be a part of our family, but my husband Ken was a little more hesitant. We were already parents to a 10-year-old biological daughter and a 5-year-old daughter adopted from China a year-and-a-half earlier. Ken was worried that we would go broke trying to adopt again, and was also concerned about how the girls would all get along. Our 10-year-old, Catherine, had been very excited to have her younger sister, Sara, join us in 2001, but after the newness wore off, she discovered that she would actually have to share Mom and Dad with this new sister. That, along with a 5-year difference in ages between Catherine and Sara, had caused some rocky moments. But when we asked Catherine how she would feel about a new sister, she didn’t object. Sara, on the other hand, was ecstatic. There were no kids her age in the neighborhood, and she really wanted someone nearer her age she could play with. Ken and I had a heart-to-heart talk about adopting Xiao Pin, and when he saw how committed I was to her, he agreed to go ahead with the adoption. So began our second journey into the mountain of paperwork and the emotional ups and downs of waiting for our new daughter. Only this time it was different, because we knew already who she was. And we were exceptionally fortunate to receive two video tapes. In the first one, she was quite shy, but sang several songs with her sweet, quiet voice, and demonstrated that she could write Chinese characters. In the second, we got to see her birthday party - at a McDonalds! At home, we hurried through the paperwork process as quickly as we could. I was told that the waiting child program would be much quicker than the normal process. It still seemed achingly slow. All I could think about was that our daughter was so far away and waiting for us, and that it would be that much longer until she could get the medical help she needed. From my investigations, I knew there was a slight, but very real, chance that the nevus could turn cancerous. I searched for information about treating this condition, and found the website for the Los Angeles Children’s Hospital, where they had a doctor who specialized in treating nevus. There were numerous before-and-after photos of children who had undergone surgery for this condition. The results were amazing! This seemed like an excellent place, but first I wanted to see what was in our own local area. A plastic surgeon in Salt Lake City suggested I might want to try Shriners Hospital, as they would cover all costs if she was approved for their program. Xiao Pin was accepted by Shriners, but after talking with the doctors, I felt that Xiao Pin would be better off going to the Los Angeles Children’s Hospital, as they were much more experienced with her condition. Our hopes for a spring trip to China to get Xiao Pin were dashed when SARS took over the news. Each day we watched the news for signs of a let-up in the disease. Finally, in July, we were told we would be going soon. Sara and I eagerly began packing for our trip. As a self-employed business owner, Ken was forced to stay home and work. At last, on August 3rd, Sara and I boarded the plane that would take us to Hong Kong. We were both excited to be returning to China, and we wondered what Xiao Pin would be feeling. Would she be excited? Scared? When we finally arrived in Hong Kong, we very much enjoyed our tour of this fascinating city, but everyone in our group had the same thought - only one day ‘til we could hold our new daughters in our arms! Following our Hong Kong-Guangzhou flight, we barely had time to settle into our rooms before heading to the registrar’s office to meet our children. I wondered if Xiao Pin would like us? We had sent small presents and letters to her while we were waiting to travel; we heard back that she was concerned about how we would talk to each other. Also, she had never been around pets, and we have, shall we say, numerous pets. All the families were shown to a room to wait for their daughters. One by one, the babies were brought in. Babies cried, new parents cried. It was such a joyful time. But where was Xiao Pin? We were told that she had just arrived and was still sleeping. So, we took pictures of the other families and waited. At long last, our name was called and we were shown into another room where Mao Xiao Pin, her nanny, and the director of the orphanage were waiting. She was tearful and very quiet. It was heartbreaking to see her pain. We sat with her for a long time while the director and nanny talked with her and gave her a little photo album. When they finally had to leave, she burst into tears. Sara didn’t understand why she was crying, so I tried to explain to her that although Xiao Pin had lived in an orphanage all her life, it was still the only family she knew. During the bus ride back to our hotel, Xiao Pin stared out the window, tears rolling down her face. It was our guide, Jason, who suggested we get off the bus at McDonald’s for dinner and play time. Good ol’ McDonalds did the trick! The girls were soon laughing, giggling, and running up and down the playground. When asked what she wanted to eat, Xiao Pin pointed at all the ice cream items! I soon found that, although aware she looks different, Xiao Pin handles the stares of strangers by just ignoring them. She and Sara have become close, and are so close in size, they seem like twins. Upon our return home, Xiao Pin (now known as Chloe) quickly made friends with neighborhood children. She also enjoyed Sunday School and joined Sara right away in her tumbling class. When we began homeschool this fall, I found she was very bright. She had just finished kindergarten in China, but she could write many Chinese characters, the English alphabet, and her addition and subtraction tables. Her teacher had sent her school work with her, and she had very high grades. To honor the girls’ Chinese heritage, a couple of us Ogden area families get together with a teacher for Chinese class. The girls love the class. They not only get to play with their Chinese friends, they are learning to read, write, speak, and sing more Mandarin. So now we wait for February, when Xiao Pin will undergo her first surgery. I cannot wait until she is able to look in the mirror and see the same beautiful face I already see. Cricket’s Song By Sally Bidleman Sweating and groaning and creaking through my first marathon, I could never imagine that it was to be the best preparation possible for the role of motherhood. But there it was, the Big Sur coastline spread out before me with its embrace of infinity, those welcome aid stations, an occasional grand piano played by a pro, and even cheering crowds. Mostly though, a marathon is work; one foot plodding along after the other, never giving up, trusting that something Never Done Before can be done. After that came Tucker, our first-born, feisty and magnetic and red-headed. Next came Scout Li Ting, 14 months old when we adopted her from the Chinese orphanage in Gaoming City. She was temperamentally Tucker’s clone; what were the chances? And then a year later, we discovered CCAI. I read about the Waiting Child Program and asked my husband Cliff if he’d be interested in completing the interest form. I remember clearly saying, “It'll be some time before we hear back...but we have time...” At this point, Cliff rolled his eyes. Naturally, I assumed that meant, “Sure, Sally, fill out that form asap!” We filled out the Medical Conditions Checklist and came to “blind.” This seemed acceptable; after all, I didn’t see the writing on a school blackboard until 5th grade, when it was discovered that I’d missed every eye exam given. My need for glasses proved a great relief to my parents, who had feared I was mentally deficient! A month later, I got a call from Deniece at CCAI. I copied her words down on Post-its. Please note that her rep with us remains unimpugned; every word she said turned out to be true! She told us she’d just gotten a referral for a little three-year-old girl named Zeng Xiao Jiu. She said Xiao Jiu was “extremely intelligent” (so of course she’d fit right into our family!!), “active, open, friendly, very articulate, likes to sing and dance...knows the words to 20 songs by heart. She takes pre-school very seriously...she’s in a fabulous orphanage - Changsha...and... she...appears...to be blind!” Her picture showed a beautiful child dressed in red, clutching a pink plastic elephant. Every night for a week that picture went under Cliff’s pillow while we contacted various and sundry Knowledgeable Professionals to discuss adopting Xiao Jiu. Principal re: mainstreaming: No problem! Ophthalmologist who’d adopted: Be extremely cautious! Tucker: Sure! As long as I can go to China too! Scout: Series of incomprehensible utterances interpreted to be in the affirmative. Social Worker: Are you sure? You’re such an active family. I don’t think it’d be a good match... But of course the answer was never really in doubt. That’s why I married Cliff. He’s got heart and he’s got courage. And a great grin. What’s that quote by Helen Keller? “Life’s either a great adventure or it’s nothing...” Correct! And Anais Nin’s words, “Life expands in proportion to your courage.” Check! We called Deniece a week later and accepted. Then we received final confirmation Xiao Jiu was “our family.” A new report came in to CCAI, saying she’s an “easy child but CAN BE STUBBORN OR MAD.” Yes! We had no experience with placidity, but we were comfortable with frisky! Consulting my notes from the perspective of time, I find things happened fast (felt slow!) after that. We received another report about Xiao Jiu: she had an amazingly good memory, it said. (True! She memorizes my grocery list in one try and my husband gives HER directions so I won’t get lost navigating the increasingly complex thoroughfares of San Diego.) The report also said she walks and runs well. (Yes! She can do a 12-minute mile today and loves those grand jetes in ballet class.) It said, “She has a very strong ability to understand adults.” (Sure, she thinks she IS one!) Then came fingerprinting for INS. I had a “ridge break” which caused great perplexity during the Live Scan. Next was fingerprinting at the County Office of Education for the Home Study, DOJ, and the child abuse registry. A few weeks later we received official approval from China to adopt Xiao Jiu. When our Home Study was complete, it was faxed to the INS and our paperwork was expedited. There followed a quick trip to Sacramento to get our papers signed, then to the Chinese Consulate in San Francisco. After that my notes get cryptic in direct proportion to the frenzy of activity going on! 12/13 Travel Notice. 12/18 Last day at work. 12/22 Flew to Guangzhou. 12/24 Arrived Guangzhou. Flew to Changsha. 12/24 adoption completed - what a Christmas Eve! Finally, there we were in two hotel rooms in Changsha: Grandma Jo, Cliff, me, Xiao Jiu (3), Tucker (8), and Scout Li Ting (2). It started to snow. (None of the children had seen snow before; Tucker enjoyed pelting his dad with a snowball work-of-art.) There had been some uncertainty as to whether Xiao Jiu could distinguish shapes, light, and dark. After a few dramatic crashes, we had our answer. Xiao Jiu remained stoic. Unless someone spoke in Mandarin, that is. Then she would engage in delighted conversation culminating in hysterical sobbing when the speaker departed. One morning we woke up to evidence of minor exsanguination; we discovered Xiao Jiu picks her nose during times of great stress with the expected result. We were told over and over again how bright Xiao Jiu was by everyone who spoke to her in Mandarin. She was learning English fast... After we flew back to Guangzhou, we’d walk the streets near the White Swan Hotel. Tucker held each girl’s hand and chanted whatever came to mind. As a result, Xiao Jiu’s first English words were, “Chicken, chicken, noodle, noodle,” and “Follow, follow, chicken noodle.” This year on Christmas Eve we celebrate three years with Cricket Xiao Jiu. We added the name “Cricket” with the blessing of her orphanage officials; they laughed and said it suited her well since she was happy and chirpy “like a cricket.” Cricket has embraced everything from consumption of cooked seaweed and spam (when we lived in Hawaii) to learning Morse Code. She just finished reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Little House on the Prairie. In fact her biggest Braille challenge is not reading...which comes easily to her...but the lifting of the massive Braille tomes! Here maybe is something that says it all: when we met Cricket, she didn’t know how to hug. Her arms would limply touch mine and she couldn’t or wouldn’t hold on. Now she jumps into my arms, holds on tight and gives the best imitation of a monkey screech I have EVER heard. Joie d’ vivre. That intangible essence we asked Deniece to find for us. The common denominator of all three of our children. We are truly blessed and wish everyone who reads this the joy of finding their own true and unique family. A Silent Miracle By Wendy Docter & Elaine Post As Told to Sarah Harmon This is the story of four profoundly deaf friends in an orphanage in Nanjing, China, who found themselves true sisters in two homes in Michigan only a mile apart. With four birth children at home, Wendy and Art Docter first found themselves on the road to adoption in 1994. After bringing home their first Chinese daughter, Anye Wu, in 1996, they were surprised to learn that she was moderately to profoundly deaf. Little did this family know that Anye Wu would be the crack in the door to a much longer adoption journey. One day, Wendy called Deniece Hess at CCAI about a little girl in the Waiting Child Program named You Ya. After learning more, Wendy surmised her family would not be traveling this road. You Ya was so profoundly deaf that the family could not communicate without sign language, and none of them knew sign language. However, the family felt God’s will made clear to them, and in July 2002, eight-year-old You Ya, now Amy Lin, was united with her new family. While in China, Art and Wendy felt their hearts moved by the children Amy was leaving behind in the orphanage. Amy had had a makeshift family comprised of three other deaf girls including You Mei, Amy’s best friend. In all of Amy’s pictures, these two girls were holding hands. After Amy and her new family headed home, You Mei was not forgotten. The Docters’ good friends, Charles & Elaine Post, were thrilled to welcome Amy home. Like second parents to the Docters’ children, the two families shared a deep love and respect for one another. When the Posts saw pictures of Amy’s friend You Mei, they knew that this eleven-year-old girl, with the sad face, was meant for them. Once she was on CCAI’s Waiting Child list, the Post family quickly went to work on the paperwork to adopt You Mei, who, now known as Anna Mei, came home on Valentine’s Day 2004 to three excited older sisters. Amy and Anna, once best friends in an orphanage in China, were reunited in the United States two years later, as part of families who lived only one mile apart. But the miracle didn’t end there. When Anna arrived home, she and Amy began praying and praying for their other two friends to find homes in the United States as well. Anna had been given a goodbye letter from her friend Chu Zhi Lin just before she left China. In it, Chu Zhi Lin expressed how much she wanted a family too. Wishing they could have taken Chu Zhi Lin home with them from China the first time, Elaine called Deniece Hess at CCAI to see if adopting Chu Zhi Lin would be possible. The Chinese government does not allow children fourteen or older to be adopted internationally, so the Posts and Docters began a race against time. Chu Zhi Lin and the fourth girl left in the orphanage, Yang Shao, had only months before they turned fourteen and lost the chance to be adopted forever. In what can only be described as a miraculous set of circumstances, the two girls appeared on the list of Waiting Children, and the Post and Docter families compiled two more dossiers in a matter of weeks and sent them to China after the Posts had been home with Anna for only one month. The Chinese government, in light of the amazing opportunity these last two girls had to be adopted before turning fourteen, gave special permission for the one-year-after-placement rule to be waived. Elaine and Wendy traveled to China together to meet their newest daughters, Grace and Summer. Grace was adopted with just three days to spare before her fourteenth birthday. One can only imagine what must have been running through the minds of four profoundly deaf teenage girls, reunited thousands of miles away from the orphanage in which they forged their first “family.” Walking down the airport concourse, surrounded by mobs of people with balloons and banners, was surely overwhelming, but also what their families describe as an incredible moment brought together by the hand of God. Reunited with their husbands after a long adoption trip, Elaine and Wendy finally felt they would be a family again, able to weather any storms. Now, almost one year later, all four girls have received cochlear implants. Through a processor worn behind the ear (like a hearing aid) to a system implanted inside the head, the neurons send a signal to the nerve for the brain to respond. As Wendy describes it, receiving a cochlear implant is not like automatic hearing, but rather like being born. Just as an infant learns to respond to her mother’s voice and make beginning ba ba ba sounds, so must a deaf person learn to respond to and interpret the sounds received via the implant. While the process is slow and communication is crude at first, Wendy likens the implant to one of the greatest gifts in the world. The girls now have the opportunity to communicate in a world of sound. Blessed with a cochlear implant team near their homes, the Docters and Posts are hopeful for even more improved hearing technology in the future. The four girls thrive in their Oral Deaf School, all in the same class. They have blended with their families beautifully and love their siblings dearly, but the road was not always easy. Wendy feels that no family can be prepared for the damage done to older children existing in an orphanage for so long. The four girls were found abandoned between the ages of three and six, and occasionally they deal emotionally with life issues in this age range. When a family adopts an older child, says Wendy, along with it comes the great brokenness of their past. Part of that, for these girls, is never having dealt with their own abandonment, since, being deaf, they had no clear way to communicate this with others. The girls referred to their abandonment as “being thrown away” in sign language. Elaine knows it’s natural to expect issues brought about by a thirteen-year-old child being part of a family for the first time after having fended for herself for her whole life. She advises that families need to be aware of and prepared for these kinds of issues for older children. Rather than discouraging families from traveling down the road of an older child adoption, she advises prayerful consideration along with education and support for families considering an older child. The Post and Docter families believe that orphan children are not forgotten by their Creator. They draw strength not only from each other, but also from the God who put this miraculous adoption journey together. Four daughters of China, reunited in America, receiving love, family, hearing – a not-so-silent miracle anymore. Amazing Adoption Story By Kim Anderson When I learned of the plight of the many orphans in China , especially the ones with special needs, it occurred to my heart that we had room for another child. Our daughter was in college and our son was 15. Our house was big enough, but were we willing to open our home? We prayed about it. In the meantime, a friend sent a newsletter from a Christian group who supports an orphanage in China. It had a photo of a little boy with albinism about 18 months old. I showed it to my husband and he got tears in his eyes. We started that day putting together a dossier designed around this little boy. We found an agency close by and began our journey to adopt our son. We started in February of 2002 and were DTC 6/24/02. To become educated about the process and make the wait go by with others in my situation, I joined a couple of email groups. One day in mid-December an email went out asking if anyone would consider adopting a 13-year-old girl who would soon turn 14. She would no longer be allowed to be adopted after her birthday, which was in February. I thought about it for a moment and then decided that I would love to help but we wanted to adopt our little boy. The email gnawed at me all morning and by lunchtime I was calling my husband. He suggested I call Deniece at CCAI (the contact person for this little girl). That afternoon I called my agency and told them that we were considering this little girl. Their suggestion was to pray about it over the weekend. Our family decided to earnestly pray and on Sunday during church our pastor was preaching on John 14. As I looked down my eyes went immediately to John 14:18: “I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you.” I knew it was out of context, but I also knew what we were going to do. We switched from our agency to CCAI to make the adoption happen. And it did happen. We left on January 10 to meet our little girl on the 12th. She was small and had a limp. She cried when she had to be left with us. She was a 13-year-old little girl who had never known parents but had grown up with the love of her “sisters and brothers” and nannies in the remote province of Qinghai. It was clear that this was not going to be easy. She held hands with the interpreter most of the time and with the orphanage workers when we were involved with paperwork. At the end of the week she said goodbye to her “family” at the orphanage and I cried. She loved them and they were all so sad to see her go. I felt like we were ripping her away. What were we doing to her? It was the same story in Guangzhou. She clung to the interpreter and wouldn’t even walk with us. I cried when I wasn’t in her sight. One day we caught her in the bathroom calling her orphanage long distance on the phone. I had no idea this would be so hard. Everyone had cute babies who seemed to have bonded right away, and we had a daughter who in our perception didn’t want any part of us. Once we got home, we knew we had a severe communication problem. I called CCAI and they found people in the office to talk to her and comfort her as she grieved for the only life she had ever known. She would cry in her room but not in front of us. She was pleasant, but we knew she wasn’t happy. She finally explained to one of her friends at CCAI that she wanted to go to school. We put her in a small private Christian school and she began to meet children who were genuinely nice to her, and she slowly began to speak a little English. She also began to blend into our family: she cared for the pets, joked around with her older brother, and took pride in her room. She resisted anything American, and always indicated that China’s way was much better. Everyone encouraged us, though, saying the transition takes time. CCAI got us through many days with the people in their office who were her friends and spoke Chinese to her. We had enrolled her in a local Chinese school right away so she could be around people she could talk to in her language on a weekly basis. She eventually became resistant to going because she was so advanced and was bored with the work. We also found out that a few of the children there made fun of her affliction. I think she was shocked to have come to America where no one even seemed to notice her affliction, only to be made fun of by the Chinese children in her Chinese school. In China, she was stared at and considered imperfect because of her leg. In America, she is just another person. She has noticed that America does a lot for handicapped people. Summer came and her sister came home from college. The two bio kids fought over who would get to take her to the latest movie releases. She became a sister to them and a functional part of the family. She was beginning to speak more and more English. I home schooled her regularly, trying to teach the fundamentals of the English language. She tried hard, but it is difficult to learn rules about a language you don’t know how to speak. We decided to put her in public school in the fall. We were overjoyed that HuYang was placed in the very best classes with the very best teachers that our local middle school had to offer. She is taking band. We recently attended a concert she was in and I got tears in my eyes as I remembered where she was a year ago. She has learned so much and is so genuinely happy. Because of her handicap, she is not able to do PE. Her ESL teacher realized that she is gifted in art and saw to it that she was placed in art. She is the only student in the entire school who takes art and band. She is special. Everyone in the school knows her, and she is cared for by the students and teachers. We recently took her to see another doctor for her leg. He offered three possible scenarios. We thought she would not want to do much since she doesn’t really seem to trust Americans, especially doctors. (She had been through a lot in China in this area.) On the long trip home we explained that he could do a little and her leg would work a lot better or he could do a lot and it would take about a year and a half of surgery and being wheelchair bound, but she would look more like normal. Without a moment’s thought, she said she wanted to be normal. We are now pursuing the extended treatment that was offered so our little girl can look like the other little girls. HuYang is planning a big Chinese New Year celebration and inviting her American friends to enjoy it with her. She is happy and well adjusted. A year ago I never thought it would be this way. We love her so much and I wasn’t sure she would ever adjust or be happy. Now she seems to love the best of America and the best of China. We nurture her “Chineseness.” HuYang was working on her homework the other night when she got a phone call from another 13-year-old girl from her orphanage who was recently adopted. They laughed and talked for almost an hour. After she hung up I asked her how her friend was adjusting. She said in her best English, “I tell her at first it be hard but you be really, really happy soon.” And that is not the end of the story. When we got home from China, Deniece, the Child Match Manager and mom to an older adopted daughter, began to search for the little boy we had “left behind.” Through her persistency, he was finally located on a newly posted Waiting Child list at another agency. We are DTC 12/10/03 for him and hope to have him home in March. Fear, Hope and Joy by Teresa and Boyd Colbry I always enjoy reading the amazing adoption stories in CCAI Circle magazine. The other day, my husband handed me the latest CCAI Circle and said “Our son Jack’s story is amazing too, we should tell it!” We wrote this on the best of days, Christmas Day of 2003. A day for hope, a day for children. We have three biological children, Hillary 12, Seth 10, and Grant 6. We always knew that adoption was in our future. In April of 2001 we adopted Lian from Fuling, Chongqing. I remember crying with joy as we saw her for the first time on our computer screen, our little girl! We were thinking that she would be our last child, but I remember making comments to my husband when we were still in China: “Maybe an older child next time?” He didn’t say much, maybe thinking that when I got home to four children my crazy idea would go away! Three months after we returned from China I saw a little boy with albinism on the CCAI waiting child list. Out of curiosity, I decided to spend come time researching albinism. Based upon the information I gathered, I believed that our family would be able to care for a child with the disease. I picked up the phone and called CCAI Waiting Child Manager Deniece, but was told that he had been matched with another family. A couple more months passed. Lian was doing great with her sisters. Boyd and I were convinced that the idea of adopting another child was not crazy after all. We decided to go for it. I filled out the waiting child form and, you know what, checked the albinism box as one of the possible medication conditions that we would be open to. Very quickly Deniece called us, informing us that a four-year-old boy named Zou Yue Xiao in Beijing with albinism was available. We told her: “Send his information to us and let us take a look at him.” Zou Yue Xiao was a very cute boy and from the information we were provided, he sounded like a great kid. But for our 5th child to have a special need… He was an older child. Could we really do it? The sleepless nights began, and friends and family began to question our sanity. We began to wonder ourselves. We went to bed many nights saying no, and then waking to only talk about him some more. We started sending questions to Beijing Orphanage through CCAI and getting short answers back. All of our questions were answered, but not enough to help us make this big decision. We consulted with more doctors, talked with people with albinism, and did more internet research. We also have a lot of worries about his personality, behavior, and attachment issues. We wanted to talk to someone who had possibly met him and might give us a personal impression of him. CCAI sent us a list of about twenty families who had adopted older children. Randomly, we chose to call a family who had adopted a four-year-old. The child’s mom Lynn graciously answered my call. Within minutes I found out that Lynn’s child was from Beijing Orphanage. When she heard me talking about adopting a four-year-old albinal boy from Beijing, Lynn began to cry. She knew who Zou Yue Xiao was! Her daughter and Zou Yue Xiao were friends at the orphanage! We couldn’t believe it. We began to cry too! Lynn was with an internet support group for Beijing adoptive families. Through that group we learned that some other families had also met Zou Yue Xiao, and had photos and stories of a bright, outgoing, respectful and very loved little boy! These families called us to say how remarkable and sweet they found him to be. Now we knew, without any doubt that we needed to go and get him. When we told our decision to our kids, they tackled us in the kitchen. They were so excited! We finally were able to sleep at night! We got such a gamete of responses to our news, from “crazy,” to blank stares, and to sheer happiness for us and for him. We had thought about it, talked about it, prayed about it and researched it to death. We were so unsure: five kids, a bigger house, homework, piano, hockey, baseball, basketball, soccer, college… There are mountains to climb. We know, we know. We rushed through the paperwork, were stalled by SARS, but finally traveled in July 2003. We took our two oldest children with us to help Jack, Zou Yue Xiao’s new name, feel more comfortable. Jack greeted us formally and fearlessly at the orphanage. Within minutes of meeting him, the rest of our fears were gone. He was right for us, he was in the right place, he had a family now, and he was on the floor playing with his siblings. Now home for five months already, Jack has constantly amazed us with his intelligence, love and determination. He goes to school, his takes on English incredibly fast, and he is so happy and eager to please. Jack asks for “big hugs” numerous times a day. He gives the best hugs, wrapping his legs and arms around you kind of hugs. A few nights ago as my husband was putting him to bed, Jack gave him a big hug and told him “thank you for being my daddy.” Well Jack, thank you for being our little precious boy! Heart to Heart By Joshua Zhong The day we decided to open an adoption agency, September 15, 1992, I joked with Lily that we needed to be prepared for taking ten or twenty children into our own home in case some of the adoptions didn’t work out. Thank God that has never happened! J However, Lily and I, as well as our twin children Art and Amy, always wanted to expand our own family through China adoption. Over the past ten years, we talked about it once in awhile and every time we fell short of making an affirmative decision. This was mainly because of two reasons: One, our daughter Amy wanted a little baby and Lily and I wanted a two- or three-year-old toddler (so we wouldn’t have to deal with poopy diapers – just kidding!). Plus, the increasing workload and responsibility at CCAI had left us with very little extra energy to focus on something that would demand 100% of our attention. So time went by. One day a few months ago, I learned that thirty special need children’s information had just arrived in our Waiting Child Department. Like everyone else in the office, I was very excited and went to the conference room where children’s information was being reviewed. As soon as I walked in the room, I noticed a little girl’s picture on the top of the pile. “She is so beautiful!” I burst out. “Don’t you think she would fit into your family perfectly?” asked Deniece Hess, our passionate Waiting Child Program Manager. I looked at Lily, who was standing across the table looking at me with a smile. “She asked me the same question. So what do you think?” Lily asked. I responded with a tentative, “Why not?” Then Lily and I left the conference room and went back to our own offices, like nothing had happened. By the end of the day, Deniece had placed a file on Lily’s desk. In it was the girl’s information and some photos. The next morning our whole family flew to Nashville for a scheduled adoption conference. As soon as we checked in at our hotel, I got a call from Dr. Max Mitchell, a pediatric cardiologist at Denver Children’s Hospital and the Chairperson on CCAI’s Charity Fund Committee. “I heard that you are considering adopting a nine year-old girl with congenital heart disease,” he said. I listened quietly, not sure what to say. “I have reviewed her basic medical information sent to me from Deniece,” Max continued. “She seems fine. I will be happy to help her when she is here.” I was not able to go to sleep that night. The little girl’s face had stuck in my mind. I closed my eyes and prayed… When I opened my eyes, tears were pouring out uncontrollably. God had spoken to me: “She is yours to love. Take her.” The next morning, I gathered my family. Holding the girl’s photo, I asked, “What would you think if we brought this nine-year-old girl into our home?” “Nine?!!!” Art and Amy looked at each other with eyes wide open, then looked at her picture. “I guess,” they said simultaneously. This is teenager-speak for “yes.” I turned to Lily. Before I opened my mouth, she said, “Why not?! I was just waiting on all of you.” Four days later, we returned to our office, made an official adoption announcement to our staff, and turned in our Application for Adoption. Yes, even the co-founders needed to fill out the application. J This was what we knew about her: She was born July 21, 1995, with congenital heart disease called Tetralogy of Fallot. She was found abandoned at Beijing Aviation Hospital when she was four months old. She was delivered to the Beijing Orphanage and was named Hua Gao Jie. Hua means China. (All the children registered at Beijing Orphanage in 1995 were surnamed Hua.) Gao is the name of the police station that received the report of her abandonment. Jie is her first name, given by the orphanage, which means pure. After about one year at the orphanage, she was placed in a foster home in the countryside, three hours’ drive from the city. The foster family was also caring for two blind children when Gao Jie arrived. She stayed with her foster parents for almost six years, and she “often got sick.” In August 2001, she received heart surgery. To better provide for her post-surgery needs and to enable her to go to school, the orphanage took her back from her foster home soon after her surgery. In 2002 the orphanage decided to send her file to the China Center of Adoption Affairs, hoping to find an international adoptive family for her. Unfortunately, due to her age and heart condition, no agency was able to find a family for her, until her file arrived at CCAI. There was no doubt that God was preparing her for our family. Yes, just like every adoptive family, we had to go through the long and frustrating process of dossier compilation, fingerprinting, home study, and parenting training, etc… The process has given us a new perspective and appreciation for the hardship our adoptive families have to endure to fulfill their dream for a child. To make a long story short, we went to China in late October and hugged Gao Jie for the first time on October 25, 2004, our forever family day. She came to us with a big smile. Her new name is Anna Jie Zhong. She is smart, independent (she does her own pigtails and washes her own socks!), outgoing, and always ready to greet you with a smile. We are prepared for some challenges down the road, but right now we are focusing on treasuring every moment and enjoying the wonder she brings to our family. By the way, as I am writing this story for you, Anna is at her first day at High Plain Elementary School. I am afraid that a few months from now, she will follow her brother and sister’s example to correct my Chinglish. We want to thank our staff who supported us during this very emotional process. We thank all the families who have been praying for us. We thank Anna’s birth mom, her foster parents, her orphanage caretakers, and doctors. Above all, we thank God for His wonderful gift of life and love. We are truly blessed. Amazing Adoption Story By Mary McShane Vaughn and Jim Vaughn I woke up in a cold sweat that first night, panicked. How could I even begin to raise this child? She needed a mother who knew about medical treatment, who had experience raising children, who could nurse her back to health. In short, someone a whole lot better than me. I chided God that night in the darkened hotel room in Fuzhou, “No offense, but I think you could have chosen a much better mother for this little girl. What were You thinking, entrusting this tiny, sickly child to ME? I have absolutely no skills!” We had met our daughter Long Fu Qing earlier that evening in July 1996 in the Hot Springs Hotel in Fuzhou. At two and a half, she was the oldest child in our group of ten. I was so happy to finally hold her, but when I lifted her up that first time, she was skin and bones. She was 30 months old and weighed 17.5 pounds. When we undressed her for bed, we saw that her belly was so distended that her ribs flared out to accommodate it, and we could count every rib in her back. Her patchy hair felt dead, her skin was sallow, and those eyes! They were like black saucers in that tiny gaunt face. She seemed like an otherworldly creature to me as she sat perfectly erect, quiet and still on the bed. Long Fu Qing was officially renamed Colleen the next day. She didn’t smile or make a sound for two more days afterwards. When she finally did laugh, it was a heartbreaking, rusty kind of sound. That laugh brought tears to our eyes and to those of the other new parents who heard it. Jim and I both realized we were deeply in love with this tiny child. Love does funny things. I developed some new skills, quick. I learned about medical treatment, and about raising children, and my husband and I began slowly nursing Colleen back to health. With drugs, the campylobacter and giardia were eradicated from her digestive system; we had what turned out to be a festering cherry seed removed from her nasal cavity; and we put olive oil and butter on practically everything Colleen ate, doctor’s orders. Jim and I were privileged to witness the miraculous change in Colleen’s appearance and health over the next several months. Her hair slowly became shiny and full, her skin began to glow, and the sad, rusty laugh was now easy and natural. Colleen was curious, loving, easy-going and so joyful! And, boy, could she eat! Five years later, after Colleen’s two older brothers were out of the house and in college, we started to feel a tug from China again. We got a call from Deniece Hess, telling us that CCAI had just started a Waiting Child Program, and the first group of 10 children had arrived. We had expressed interest in a possible waiting child before because of our experience with Colleen. I asked if there were any girls with malnutrition on the list. “No, but there is a three year old with a heart problem.” We didn’t want to sign up for heart problems. Too scary! Amazingly, we requested her file anyway. Dr. Max Mitchell was kind enough to talk to us at length about Wu Lan’s medical file. She had Tetralogy of Fallot. During the consultation, he gave us a potent piece of advice. He said that if we wanted to maximize the impact we would have on a child’s life, then adopting Wu Lan was our answer. That’s exactly what we wanted to do! We met with the head of cardiothoracic surgery at the children’s hospital in Atlanta and chose a pediatric cardiologist. According to her blood work and echo, Wu Lan could wait six months for her repair operation. We finished our dossier within a few weeks, and anxiously waited for our travel approval. The wait was not kind to Wu Lan. Her condition worsened, and by the time we got to Suzhou in October 2001, she was seriously ill. We were told to expect “Tet spells,” or periods of low oxygen which would cause her to first turn blue and then to squat down to push more blood to her lungs. We had forgotten to ask how often this should happen. It happened all the time. Wu Lan was in trouble. Wu Lan, now Kate, had a cardiology appointment scheduled for the Friday two weeks after we got home. She never made it to the appointment. A week after we got back to Atlanta, Kate had a very bad Tet spell, so we took her to our local hospital. The doctor took one look at her O2 saturation level, and called for both the helicopter and the ambulance to take her to the children’s hospital. The ambulance got there first. Kate was rushed to CICU where she spent the weekend, and the surgeon we had met earlier operated on her first thing Monday morning. The nurse later told us that Kate had only had a few more months before her organs would have shut down. We had wanted a chance to impact a child’s life, but this was a little more impact than we had been counting on. Five days after her surgery, Kate was released from the hospital and was literally running in the backyard that afternoon. She had felt bad every day of her life, and even though she was sore, the fact that she could actually run was exhilarating to her. It was an honor to watch her every day as she reclaimed her childhood. Max Mitchell had been right. Kate was a timid, sweet child and just idolized her sister Colleen. Colleen and Kate were very close, but Colleen, four years older, often had to leave Kate behind for school activities. We decided in June 2003 that it was time to adopt another heart-baby. Almost immediately we got a call from Deniece about a four-year-old girl who had a repaired double outlet right ventricle. The charity Altrusa had brought Hong Tie Hua and three other children to Shanghai for heart surgery in 2001. By that time, Hong Tie Hua could not even get out of bed. The doctors in Shanghai had concluded that they could not repair her heart, so she was flown to NYU Medical Center for her successful surgery in October 2001. Our cardiologist told us that this condition was not as easily corrected as Kate’s, and it would involve lifelong, periodic follow up operations to replace the shunt and artificial valve she needed. We had already gone through the open-heart surgery process, and knew the surgeon and the hospital. She would need another operation soon, and how else would she get it? Hong Tie Hua became Caroline in March 2004. Caroline is Kate’s opposite in so many ways. She is a confident, take charge kind of girl! Luckily, her personality meshes well with her sister’s and they play together peacefully for hours. Caroline is being monitored, and will most likely require another open-heart surgery next year. She has the strong will and spirit to make it through just fine. Our family is not quite finished. We applied again for another heart-baby late last year and got an email from Deniece about a three-year-old boy who has a very serious condition. Our cardiologist, who is now a family friend, looked over the file, and told us that Xin Zi Long was inoperable. But, the doctor said that his condition is stable, and he would experience a slow decline over many decades. That would buy our son time to wait until technology advances enough to make heart-lung transplants safer and more reliable. The doctor said that Zi Long won’t be a soccer player, but rather, he could play the guitar and become valedictorian. That suits us just fine! We are finishing our dossier and hope to bring “Mick” home this summer. Their medical issues are an intrinsic part of this adoption story, but frankly, that is the least interesting thing about our children. All three girls are gifted gymnasts; Colleen (11) is a math whiz and dotes on both children and animals; Kate (7) is a talented dancer and spelling champ, and, it turns out, quite a drama queen; Caroline (5) is amazingly bright and eager to learn, and has a flare for fashion. A lot has happened since that frantic night in Fuzhou nine years ago. I still (rightfully) doubt my parenting skills, but at least now I’m too busy to panic about it. An Unexpected Journey By Melissa Rowan Our adoption journey actually began many years ago. We had discussed the possibility of adoption early in our marriage, however, after our three older children were born within four years, the thought slipped our minds amidst the masses of diapers, laundry, etc. When our daughter Katie was four years old, she decided she didn’t like being the only girl sandwiched between two boys and began a crusade for a baby sister. No matter how much we explained to her that we would not have any more children, she would not be persuaded. She declared she would just keep asking God for a baby sister until He gave her one. Pray she did – for six years! When Katie was ten years old (and her brothers Jacob and John were twelve and eight), our desire for another child began to grow and we decided it was time to begin checking into the possibility of adoption. In the beginning, our only certainty was that we would adopt a girl. I was busy checking into agencies and researching international vs. domestic adoptions, yet nothing seemed to click. One day my husband Andy met a new co-worker, who told Andy about his experience with CCAI and the situation of baby girls in China. We checked out CCAI’s website that evening, and immediately we knew which direction our adoption journey would take us. In early September 2001, we completed the application forms and got them ready to mail to CCAI. Andy put the forms in his briefcase on September 10 and planned to pick up a letter I needed from my physician the next day. Well, we all know what September 11th brought. Andy is a psychologist with the Air Force and was on the Critical Incident Response Team that dealt with the situation at the Pentagon. Our forms stayed in his briefcase as his days and nights were spent at the Pentagon. Initially we were shocked and afraid to go forward with the adoption. But after praying about it, we went ahead and mailed in our forms and were thrilled to hear Kathi’s voice just a few days later telling us we’d been approved. I wish we could say that September 11th was the only hurdle in our process, but alas, it was only the beginning. Our paperwork took us much longer than we had expected. Reports that should have been back in four to six weeks took five months instead. Our fingerprints had to be redone multiple times due to problems reading them. Even though we had signed our home study contract in October, we were unable to get an appointment for our interviews until January. These and many other hurdles were our lot for this adoption process. The funniest of all was on April 2, 2002. I was sure it was April Fool’s Day a day late. I had to get county certification of my papers and went to the
Chloe By Donna Bloom
Cricket’s Song
By Sally Bidleman
Sweating and groaning and creaking through my first marathon, I could never imagine that it was to be the best preparation possible for the role of motherhood. But there it was, the Big Sur coastline spread out before me with its embrace of infinity, those welcome aid stations, an occasional grand piano played by a pro, and even cheering crowds. Mostly though, a marathon is work; one foot plodding along after the other, never giving up, trusting that something Never Done Before can be done.
After that came Tucker, our first-born, feisty and magnetic and red-headed.
Next came Scout Li Ting, 14 months old when we adopted her from the Chinese orphanage in Gaoming City. She was temperamentally Tucker’s clone; what were the chances?
And then a year later, we discovered CCAI. I read about the Waiting Child Program and asked my husband Cliff if he’d be interested in completing the interest form. I remember clearly saying, “It'll be some time before we hear back...but we have time...” At this point, Cliff rolled his eyes. Naturally, I assumed that meant, “Sure, Sally, fill out that form asap!”
We filled out the Medical Conditions Checklist and came to “blind.” This seemed acceptable; after all, I didn’t see the writing on a school blackboard until 5th grade, when it was discovered that I’d missed every eye exam given. My need for glasses proved a great relief to my parents, who had feared I was mentally deficient!
A month later, I got a call from Deniece at CCAI. I copied her words down on Post-its. Please note that her rep with us remains unimpugned; every word she said turned out to be true! She told us she’d just gotten a referral for a little three-year-old girl named Zeng Xiao Jiu. She said Xiao Jiu was “extremely intelligent” (so of course she’d fit right into our family!!), “active, open, friendly, very articulate, likes to sing and dance...knows the words to 20 songs by heart. She takes pre-school very seriously...she’s in a fabulous orphanage - Changsha...and... she...appears...to be blind!”
Her picture showed a beautiful child dressed in red, clutching a pink plastic elephant. Every night for a week that picture went under Cliff’s pillow while we contacted various and sundry Knowledgeable Professionals to discuss adopting Xiao Jiu.
Principal re: mainstreaming: No problem! Ophthalmologist who’d adopted: Be extremely cautious! Tucker: Sure! As long as I can go to China too! Scout: Series of incomprehensible utterances interpreted to be in the affirmative. Social Worker: Are you sure? You’re such an active family. I don’t think it’d be a good match...
But of course the answer was never really in doubt. That’s why I married Cliff. He’s got heart and he’s got courage. And a great grin. What’s that quote by Helen Keller? “Life’s either a great adventure or it’s nothing...” Correct! And Anais Nin’s words, “Life expands in proportion to your courage.” Check!
We called Deniece a week later and accepted. Then we received final confirmation Xiao Jiu was “our family.” A new report came in to CCAI, saying she’s an “easy child but CAN BE STUBBORN OR MAD.” Yes! We had no experience with placidity, but we were comfortable with frisky!
Consulting my notes from the perspective of time, I find things happened fast (felt slow!) after that.
We received another report about Xiao Jiu: she had an amazingly good memory, it said. (True! She memorizes my grocery list in one try and my husband gives HER directions so I won’t get lost navigating the increasingly complex thoroughfares of San Diego.) The report also said she walks and runs well. (Yes! She can do a 12-minute mile today and loves those grand jetes in ballet class.) It said, “She has a very strong ability to understand adults.” (Sure, she thinks she IS one!)
Then came fingerprinting for INS. I had a “ridge break” which caused great perplexity during the Live Scan. Next was fingerprinting at the County Office of Education for the Home Study, DOJ, and the child abuse registry. A few weeks later we received official approval from China to adopt Xiao Jiu.
When our Home Study was complete, it was faxed to the INS and our paperwork was expedited. There followed a quick trip to Sacramento to get our papers signed, then to the Chinese Consulate in San Francisco.
After that my notes get cryptic in direct proportion to the frenzy of activity going on! 12/13 Travel Notice. 12/18 Last day at work. 12/22 Flew to Guangzhou. 12/24 Arrived Guangzhou. Flew to Changsha. 12/24 adoption completed - what a Christmas Eve!
Finally, there we were in two hotel rooms in Changsha: Grandma Jo, Cliff, me, Xiao Jiu (3), Tucker (8), and Scout Li Ting (2). It started to snow. (None of the children had seen snow before; Tucker enjoyed pelting his dad with a snowball work-of-art.)
There had been some uncertainty as to whether Xiao Jiu could distinguish shapes, light, and dark. After a few dramatic crashes, we had our answer. Xiao Jiu remained stoic. Unless someone spoke in Mandarin, that is. Then she would engage in delighted conversation culminating in hysterical sobbing when the speaker departed.
One morning we woke up to evidence of minor exsanguination; we discovered Xiao Jiu picks her nose during times of great stress with the expected result.
We were told over and over again how bright Xiao Jiu was by everyone who spoke to her in Mandarin. She was learning English fast... After we flew back to Guangzhou, we’d walk the streets near the White Swan Hotel. Tucker held each girl’s hand and chanted whatever came to mind. As a result, Xiao Jiu’s first English words were, “Chicken, chicken, noodle, noodle,” and “Follow, follow, chicken noodle.”
This year on Christmas Eve we celebrate three years with Cricket Xiao Jiu. We added the name “Cricket” with the blessing of her orphanage officials; they laughed and said it suited her well since she was happy and chirpy “like a cricket.” Cricket has embraced everything from consumption of cooked seaweed and spam (when we lived in Hawaii) to learning Morse Code. She just finished reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Little House on the Prairie. In fact her biggest Braille challenge is not reading...which comes easily to her...but the lifting of the massive Braille tomes!
Here maybe is something that says it all: when we met Cricket, she didn’t know how to hug. Her arms would limply touch mine and she couldn’t or wouldn’t hold on. Now she jumps into my arms, holds on tight and gives the best imitation of a monkey screech I have EVER heard.
Joie d’ vivre. That intangible essence we asked Deniece to find for us. The common denominator of all three of our children. We are truly blessed and wish everyone who reads this the joy of finding their own true and unique family.
A Silent Miracle
By Wendy Docter & Elaine Post
As Told to Sarah Harmon
This is the story of four profoundly deaf friends in an orphanage in Nanjing, China, who found themselves true sisters in two homes in Michigan only a mile apart.
With four birth children at home, Wendy and Art Docter first found themselves on the road to adoption in 1994. After bringing home their first Chinese daughter, Anye Wu, in 1996, they were surprised to learn that she was moderately to profoundly deaf. Little did this family know that Anye Wu would be the crack in the door to a much longer adoption journey.
One day, Wendy called Deniece Hess at CCAI about a little girl in the Waiting Child Program named You Ya. After learning more, Wendy surmised her family would not be traveling this road. You Ya was so profoundly deaf that the family could not communicate without sign language, and none of them knew sign language. However, the family felt God’s will made clear to them, and in July 2002, eight-year-old You Ya, now Amy Lin, was united with her new family. While in China, Art and Wendy felt their hearts moved by the children Amy was leaving behind in the orphanage. Amy had had a makeshift family comprised of three other deaf girls including You Mei, Amy’s best friend. In all of Amy’s pictures, these two girls were holding hands. After Amy and her new family headed home, You Mei was not forgotten.
The Docters’ good friends, Charles & Elaine Post, were thrilled to welcome Amy home. Like second parents to the Docters’ children, the two families shared a deep love and respect for one another. When the Posts saw pictures of Amy’s friend You Mei, they knew that this eleven-year-old girl, with the sad face, was meant for them. Once she was on CCAI’s Waiting Child list, the Post family quickly went to work on the paperwork to adopt You Mei, who, now known as Anna Mei, came home on Valentine’s Day 2004 to three excited older sisters. Amy and Anna, once best friends in an orphanage in China, were reunited in the United States two years later, as part of families who lived only one mile apart.
But the miracle didn’t end there.
When Anna arrived home, she and Amy began praying and praying for their other two friends to find homes in the United States as well. Anna had been given a goodbye letter from her friend Chu Zhi Lin just before she left China. In it, Chu Zhi Lin expressed how much she wanted a family too. Wishing they could have taken Chu Zhi Lin home with them from China the first time, Elaine called Deniece Hess at CCAI to see if adopting Chu Zhi Lin would be possible.
The Chinese government does not allow children fourteen or older to be adopted internationally, so the Posts and Docters began a race against time. Chu Zhi Lin and the fourth girl left in the orphanage, Yang Shao, had only months before they turned fourteen and lost the chance to be adopted forever.
In what can only be described as a miraculous set of circumstances, the two girls appeared on the list of Waiting Children, and the Post and Docter families compiled two more dossiers in a matter of weeks and sent them to China after the Posts had been home with Anna for only one month. The Chinese government, in light of the amazing opportunity these last two girls had to be adopted before turning fourteen, gave special permission for the one-year-after-placement rule to be waived. Elaine and Wendy traveled to China together to meet their newest daughters, Grace and Summer. Grace was adopted with just three days to spare before her fourteenth birthday.
One can only imagine what must have been running through the minds of four profoundly deaf teenage girls, reunited thousands of miles away from the orphanage in which they forged their first “family.” Walking down the airport concourse, surrounded by mobs of people with balloons and banners, was surely overwhelming, but also what their families describe as an incredible moment brought together by the hand of God. Reunited with their husbands after a long adoption trip, Elaine and Wendy finally felt they would be a family again, able to weather any storms.
Now, almost one year later, all four girls have received cochlear implants. Through a processor worn behind the ear (like a hearing aid) to a system implanted inside the head, the neurons send a signal to the nerve for the brain to respond. As Wendy describes it, receiving a cochlear implant is not like automatic hearing, but rather like being born. Just as an infant learns to respond to her mother’s voice and make beginning ba ba ba sounds, so must a deaf person learn to respond to and interpret the sounds received via the implant. While the process is slow and communication is crude at first, Wendy likens the implant to one of the greatest gifts in the world. The girls now have the opportunity to communicate in a world of sound. Blessed with a cochlear implant team near their homes, the Docters and Posts are hopeful for even more improved hearing technology in the future.
The four girls thrive in their Oral Deaf School, all in the same class. They have blended with their families beautifully and love their siblings dearly, but the road was not always easy. Wendy feels that no family can be prepared for the damage done to older children existing in an orphanage for so long. The four girls were found abandoned between the ages of three and six, and occasionally they deal emotionally with life issues in this age range. When a family adopts an older child, says Wendy, along with it comes the great brokenness of their past. Part of that, for these girls, is never having dealt with their own abandonment, since, being deaf, they had no clear way to communicate this with others. The girls referred to their abandonment as “being thrown away” in sign language.
Elaine knows it’s natural to expect issues brought about by a thirteen-year-old child being part of a family for the first time after having fended for herself for her whole life. She advises that families need to be aware of and prepared for these kinds of issues for older children. Rather than discouraging families from traveling down the road of an older child adoption, she advises prayerful consideration along with education and support for families considering an older child.
The Post and Docter families believe that orphan children are not forgotten by their Creator. They draw strength not only from each other, but also from the God who put this miraculous adoption journey together. Four daughters of China, reunited in America, receiving love, family, hearing – a not-so-silent miracle anymore.
Amazing Adoption Story
By Kim Anderson
When I learned of the plight of the many orphans in China , especially the ones with special needs, it occurred to my heart that we had room for another child. Our daughter was in college and our son was 15. Our house was big enough, but were we willing to open our home? We prayed about it. In the meantime, a friend sent a newsletter from a Christian group who supports an orphanage in China. It had a photo of a little boy with albinism about 18 months old. I showed it to my husband and he got tears in his eyes. We started that day putting together a dossier designed around this little boy. We found an agency close by and began our journey to adopt our son. We started in February of 2002 and were DTC 6/24/02.
To become educated about the process and make the wait go by with others in my situation, I joined a couple of email groups. One day in mid-December an email went out asking if anyone would consider adopting a 13-year-old girl who would soon turn 14. She would no longer be allowed to be adopted after her birthday, which was in February. I thought about it for a moment and then decided that I would love to help but we wanted to adopt our little boy. The email gnawed at me all morning and by lunchtime I was calling my husband. He suggested I call Deniece at CCAI (the contact person for this little girl). That afternoon I called my agency and told them that we were considering this little girl. Their suggestion was to pray about it over the weekend. Our family decided to earnestly pray and on Sunday during church our pastor was preaching on John 14. As I looked down my eyes went immediately to John 14:18: “I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you.” I knew it was out of context, but I also knew what we were going to do.
We switched from our agency to CCAI to make the adoption happen. And it did happen. We left on January 10 to meet our little girl on the 12th. She was small and had a limp. She cried when she had to be left with us. She was a 13-year-old little girl who had never known parents but had grown up with the love of her “sisters and brothers” and nannies in the remote province of Qinghai. It was clear that this was not going to be easy. She held hands with the interpreter most of the time and with the orphanage workers when we were involved with paperwork. At the end of the week she said goodbye to her “family” at the orphanage and I cried. She loved them and they were all so sad to see her go. I felt like we were ripping her away. What were we doing to her? It was the same story in Guangzhou. She clung to the interpreter and wouldn’t even walk with us. I cried when I wasn’t in her sight. One day we caught her in the bathroom calling her orphanage long distance on the phone. I had no idea this would be so hard. Everyone had cute babies who seemed to have bonded right away, and we had a daughter who in our perception didn’t want any part of us.
Once we got home, we knew we had a severe communication problem. I called CCAI and they found people in the office to talk to her and comfort her as she grieved for the only life she had ever known. She would cry in her room but not in front of us. She was pleasant, but we knew she wasn’t happy. She finally explained to one of her friends at CCAI that she wanted to go to school. We put her in a small private Christian school and she began to meet children who were genuinely nice to her, and she slowly began to speak a little English. She also began to blend into our family: she cared for the pets, joked around with her older brother, and took pride in her room. She resisted anything American, and always indicated that China’s way was much better. Everyone encouraged us, though, saying the transition takes time. CCAI got us through many days with the people in their office who were her friends and spoke Chinese to her.
We had enrolled her in a local Chinese school right away so she could be around people she could talk to in her language on a weekly basis. She eventually became resistant to going because she was so advanced and was bored with the work. We also found out that a few of the children there made fun of her affliction. I think she was shocked to have come to America where no one even seemed to notice her affliction, only to be made fun of by the Chinese children in her Chinese school. In China, she was stared at and considered imperfect because of her leg. In America, she is just another person. She has noticed that America does a lot for handicapped people. Summer came and her sister came home from college. The two bio kids fought over who would get to take her to the latest movie releases. She became a sister to them and a functional part of the family. She was beginning to speak more and more English. I home schooled her regularly, trying to teach the fundamentals of the English language. She tried hard, but it is difficult to learn rules about a language you don’t know how to speak. We decided to put her in public school in the fall.
We were overjoyed that HuYang was placed in the very best classes with the very best teachers that our local middle school had to offer. She is taking band. We recently attended a concert she was in and I got tears in my eyes as I remembered where she was a year ago. She has learned so much and is so genuinely happy. Because of her handicap, she is not able to do PE. Her ESL teacher realized that she is gifted in art and saw to it that she was placed in art. She is the only student in the entire school who takes art and band. She is special. Everyone in the school knows her, and she is cared for by the students and teachers.
We recently took her to see another doctor for her leg. He offered three possible scenarios. We thought she would not want to do much since she doesn’t really seem to trust Americans, especially doctors. (She had been through a lot in China in this area.) On the long trip home we explained that he could do a little and her leg would work a lot better or he could do a lot and it would take about a year and a half of surgery and being wheelchair bound, but she would look more like normal. Without a moment’s thought, she said she wanted to be normal. We are now pursuing the extended treatment that was offered so our little girl can look like the other little girls.
HuYang is planning a big Chinese New Year celebration and inviting her American friends to enjoy it with her. She is happy and well adjusted. A year ago I never thought it would be this way. We love her so much and I wasn’t sure she would ever adjust or be happy. Now she seems to love the best of America and the best of China. We nurture her “Chineseness.” HuYang was working on her homework the other night when she got a phone call from another 13-year-old girl from her orphanage who was recently adopted. They laughed and talked for almost an hour. After she hung up I asked her how her friend was adjusting. She said in her best English, “I tell her at first it be hard but you be really, really happy soon.”
And that is not the end of the story. When we got home from China, Deniece, the Child Match Manager and mom to an older adopted daughter, began to search for the little boy we had “left behind.” Through her persistency, he was finally located on a newly posted Waiting Child list at another agency. We are DTC 12/10/03 for him and hope to have him home in March.
Fear, Hope and Joy
by Teresa and Boyd Colbry
I always enjoy reading the amazing adoption stories in CCAI Circle magazine. The other day, my husband handed me the latest CCAI Circle and said “Our son Jack’s story is amazing too, we should tell it!” We wrote this on the best of days, Christmas Day of 2003. A day for hope, a day for children.
We have three biological children, Hillary 12, Seth 10, and Grant 6. We always knew that adoption was in our future. In April of 2001 we adopted Lian from Fuling, Chongqing. I remember crying with joy as we saw her for the first time on our computer screen, our little girl! We were thinking that she would be our last child, but I remember making comments to my husband when we were still in China: “Maybe an older child next time?” He didn’t say much, maybe thinking that when I got home to four children my crazy idea would go away!
Three months after we returned from China I saw a little boy with albinism on the CCAI waiting child list. Out of curiosity, I decided to spend come time researching albinism. Based upon the information I gathered, I believed that our family would be able to care for a child with the disease. I picked up the phone and called CCAI Waiting Child Manager Deniece, but was told that he had been matched with another family.
A couple more months passed. Lian was doing great with her sisters. Boyd and I were convinced that the idea of adopting another child was not crazy after all. We decided to go for it. I filled out the waiting child form and, you know what, checked the albinism box as one of the possible medication conditions that we would be open to. Very quickly Deniece called us, informing us that a four-year-old boy named Zou Yue Xiao in Beijing with albinism was available. We told her: “Send his information to us and let us take a look at him.” Zou Yue Xiao was a very cute boy and from the information we were provided, he sounded like a great kid.
But for our 5th child to have a special need… He was an older child. Could we really do it?
The sleepless nights began, and friends and family began to question our sanity. We began to wonder ourselves. We went to bed many nights saying no, and then waking to only talk about him some more.
We started sending questions to Beijing Orphanage through CCAI and getting short answers back. All of our questions were answered, but not enough to help us make this big decision. We consulted with more doctors, talked with people with albinism, and did more internet research. We also have a lot of worries about his personality, behavior, and attachment issues. We wanted to talk to someone who had possibly met him and might give us a personal impression of him. CCAI sent us a list of about twenty families who had adopted older children. Randomly, we chose to call a family who had adopted a four-year-old. The child’s mom Lynn graciously answered my call. Within minutes I found out that Lynn’s child was from Beijing Orphanage. When she heard me talking about adopting a four-year-old albinal boy from Beijing, Lynn began to cry. She knew who Zou Yue Xiao was! Her daughter and Zou Yue Xiao were friends at the orphanage! We couldn’t believe it. We began to cry too!
Lynn was with an internet support group for Beijing adoptive families. Through that group we learned that some other families had also met Zou Yue Xiao, and had photos and stories of a bright, outgoing, respectful and very loved little boy! These families called us to say how remarkable and sweet they found him to be. Now we knew, without any doubt that we needed to go and get him. When we told our decision to our kids, they tackled us in the kitchen. They were so excited! We finally were able to sleep at night!
We got such a gamete of responses to our news, from “crazy,” to blank stares, and to sheer happiness for us and for him. We had thought about it, talked about it, prayed about it and researched it to death. We were so unsure: five kids, a bigger house, homework, piano, hockey, baseball, basketball, soccer, college… There are mountains to climb. We know, we know.
We rushed through the paperwork, were stalled by SARS, but finally traveled in July 2003. We took our two oldest children with us to help Jack, Zou Yue Xiao’s new name, feel more comfortable. Jack greeted us formally and fearlessly at the orphanage. Within minutes of meeting him, the rest of our fears were gone. He was right for us, he was in the right place, he had a family now, and he was on the floor playing with his siblings.
Now home for five months already, Jack has constantly amazed us with his intelligence, love and determination. He goes to school, his takes on English incredibly fast, and he is so happy and eager to please. Jack asks for “big hugs” numerous times a day. He gives the best hugs, wrapping his legs and arms around you kind of hugs. A few nights ago as my husband was putting him to bed, Jack gave him a big hug and told him “thank you for being my daddy.” Well Jack, thank you for being our little precious boy!
Heart to Heart
By Joshua Zhong
The day we decided to open an adoption agency, September 15, 1992, I joked with Lily that we needed to be prepared for taking ten or twenty children into our own home in case some of the adoptions didn’t work out. Thank God that has never happened! J However, Lily and I, as well as our twin children Art and Amy, always wanted to expand our own family through China adoption. Over the past ten years, we talked about it once in awhile and every time we fell short of making an affirmative decision. This was mainly because of two reasons: One, our daughter Amy wanted a little baby and Lily and I wanted a two- or three-year-old toddler (so we wouldn’t have to deal with poopy diapers – just kidding!). Plus, the increasing workload and responsibility at CCAI had left us with very little extra energy to focus on something that would demand 100% of our attention. So time went by.
One day a few months ago, I learned that thirty special need children’s information had just arrived in our Waiting Child Department. Like everyone else in the office, I was very excited and went to the conference room where children’s information was being reviewed. As soon as I walked in the room, I noticed a little girl’s picture on the top of the pile. “She is so beautiful!” I burst out.
“Don’t you think she would fit into your family perfectly?” asked Deniece Hess, our passionate Waiting Child Program Manager. I looked at Lily, who was standing across the table looking at me with a smile.
“She asked me the same question. So what do you think?” Lily asked. I responded with a tentative, “Why not?” Then Lily and I left the conference room and went back to our own offices, like nothing had happened. By the end of the day, Deniece had placed a file on Lily’s desk. In it was the girl’s information and some photos.
The next morning our whole family flew to Nashville for a scheduled adoption conference. As soon as we checked in at our hotel, I got a call from Dr. Max Mitchell, a pediatric cardiologist at Denver Children’s Hospital and the Chairperson on CCAI’s Charity Fund Committee. “I heard that you are considering adopting a nine year-old girl with congenital heart disease,” he said. I listened quietly, not sure what to say. “I have reviewed her basic medical information sent to me from Deniece,” Max continued. “She seems fine. I will be happy to help her when she is here.”
I was not able to go to sleep that night. The little girl’s face had stuck in my mind. I closed my eyes and prayed… When I opened my eyes, tears were pouring out uncontrollably. God had spoken to me: “She is yours to love. Take her.”
The next morning, I gathered my family. Holding the girl’s photo, I asked, “What would you think if we brought this nine-year-old girl into our home?” “Nine?!!!” Art and Amy looked at each other with eyes wide open, then looked at her picture. “I guess,” they said simultaneously. This is teenager-speak for “yes.” I turned to Lily. Before I opened my mouth, she said, “Why not?! I was just waiting on all of you.”
Four days later, we returned to our office, made an official adoption announcement to our staff, and turned in our Application for Adoption. Yes, even the co-founders needed to fill out the application. J
This was what we knew about her: She was born July 21, 1995, with congenital heart disease called Tetralogy of Fallot. She was found abandoned at Beijing Aviation Hospital when she was four months old. She was delivered to the Beijing Orphanage and was named Hua Gao Jie. Hua means China. (All the children registered at Beijing Orphanage in 1995 were surnamed Hua.) Gao is the name of the police station that received the report of her abandonment. Jie is her first name, given by the orphanage, which means pure. After about one year at the orphanage, she was placed in a foster home in the countryside, three hours’ drive from the city. The foster family was also caring for two blind children when Gao Jie arrived. She stayed with her foster parents for almost six years, and she “often got sick.” In August 2001, she received heart surgery. To better provide for her post-surgery needs and to enable her to go to school, the orphanage took her back from her foster home soon after her surgery. In 2002 the orphanage decided to send her file to the China Center of Adoption Affairs, hoping to find an international adoptive family for her. Unfortunately, due to her age and heart condition, no agency was able to find a family for her, until her file arrived at CCAI.
There was no doubt that God was preparing her for our family.
Yes, just like every adoptive family, we had to go through the long and frustrating process of dossier compilation, fingerprinting, home study, and parenting training, etc… The process has given us a new perspective and appreciation for the hardship our adoptive families have to endure to fulfill their dream for a child.
To make a long story short, we went to China in late October and hugged Gao Jie for the first time on October 25, 2004, our forever family day. She came to us with a big smile. Her new name is Anna Jie Zhong. She is smart, independent (she does her own pigtails and washes her own socks!), outgoing, and always ready to greet you with a smile. We are prepared for some challenges down the road, but right now we are focusing on treasuring every moment and enjoying the wonder she brings to our family. By the way, as I am writing this story for you, Anna is at her first day at High Plain Elementary School. I am afraid that a few months from now, she will follow her brother and sister’s example to correct my Chinglish.
We want to thank our staff who supported us during this very emotional process. We thank all the families who have been praying for us. We thank Anna’s birth mom, her foster parents, her orphanage caretakers, and doctors. Above all, we thank God for His wonderful gift of life and love. We are truly blessed.
By Mary McShane Vaughn and Jim Vaughn
I woke up in a cold sweat that first night, panicked. How could I even begin to raise this child? She needed a mother who knew about medical treatment, who had experience raising children, who could nurse her back to health. In short, someone a whole lot better than me. I chided God that night in the darkened hotel room in Fuzhou, “No offense, but I think you could have chosen a much better mother for this little girl. What were You thinking, entrusting this tiny, sickly child to ME? I have absolutely no skills!”
We had met our daughter Long Fu Qing earlier that evening in July 1996 in the Hot Springs Hotel in Fuzhou. At two and a half, she was the oldest child in our group of ten. I was so happy to finally hold her, but when I lifted her up that first time, she was skin and bones. She was 30 months old and weighed 17.5 pounds. When we undressed her for bed, we saw that her belly was so distended that her ribs flared out to accommodate it, and we could count every rib in her back. Her patchy hair felt dead, her skin was sallow, and those eyes! They were like black saucers in that tiny gaunt face. She seemed like an otherworldly creature to me as she sat perfectly erect, quiet and still on the bed.
Long Fu Qing was officially renamed Colleen the next day. She didn’t smile or make a sound for two more days afterwards. When she finally did laugh, it was a heartbreaking, rusty kind of sound. That laugh brought tears to our eyes and to those of the other new parents who heard it. Jim and I both realized we were deeply in love with this tiny child.
Love does funny things. I developed some new skills, quick. I learned about medical treatment, and about raising children, and my husband and I began slowly nursing Colleen back to health. With drugs, the campylobacter and giardia were eradicated from her digestive system; we had what turned out to be a festering cherry seed removed from her nasal cavity; and we put olive oil and butter on practically everything Colleen ate, doctor’s orders.
Jim and I were privileged to witness the miraculous change in Colleen’s appearance and health over the next several months. Her hair slowly became shiny and full, her skin began to glow, and the sad, rusty laugh was now easy and natural. Colleen was curious, loving, easy-going and so joyful! And, boy, could she eat!
Five years later, after Colleen’s two older brothers were out of the house and in college, we started to feel a tug from China again. We got a call from Deniece Hess, telling us that CCAI had just started a Waiting Child Program, and the first group of 10 children had arrived. We had expressed interest in a possible waiting child before because of our experience with Colleen. I asked if there were any girls with malnutrition on the list. “No, but there is a three year old with a heart problem.” We didn’t want to sign up for heart problems. Too scary! Amazingly, we requested her file anyway.
Dr. Max Mitchell was kind enough to talk to us at length about Wu Lan’s medical file. She had Tetralogy of Fallot. During the consultation, he gave us a potent piece of advice. He said that if we wanted to maximize the impact we would have on a child’s life, then adopting Wu Lan was our answer. That’s exactly what we wanted to do! We met with the head of cardiothoracic surgery at the children’s hospital in Atlanta and chose a pediatric cardiologist. According to her blood work and echo, Wu Lan could wait six months for her repair operation. We finished our dossier within a few weeks, and anxiously waited for our travel approval.
The wait was not kind to Wu Lan. Her condition worsened, and by the time we got to Suzhou in October 2001, she was seriously ill. We were told to expect “Tet spells,” or periods of low oxygen which would cause her to first turn blue and then to squat down to push more blood to her lungs. We had forgotten to ask how often this should happen. It happened all the time. Wu Lan was in trouble.
Wu Lan, now Kate, had a cardiology appointment scheduled for the Friday two weeks after we got home. She never made it to the appointment. A week after we got back to Atlanta, Kate had a very bad Tet spell, so we took her to our local hospital. The doctor took one look at her O2 saturation level, and called for both the helicopter and the ambulance to take her to the children’s hospital. The ambulance got there first. Kate was rushed to CICU where she spent the weekend, and the surgeon we had met earlier operated on her first thing Monday morning. The nurse later told us that Kate had only had a few more months before her organs would have shut down. We had wanted a chance to impact a child’s life, but this was a little more impact than we had been counting on.
Five days after her surgery, Kate was released from the hospital and was literally running in the backyard that afternoon. She had felt bad every day of her life, and even though she was sore, the fact that she could actually run was exhilarating to her. It was an honor to watch her every day as she reclaimed her childhood. Max Mitchell had been right.
Kate was a timid, sweet child and just idolized her sister Colleen. Colleen and Kate were very close, but Colleen, four years older, often had to leave Kate behind for school activities. We decided in June 2003 that it was time to adopt another heart-baby. Almost immediately we got a call from Deniece about a four-year-old girl who had a repaired double outlet right ventricle. The charity Altrusa had brought Hong Tie Hua and three other children to Shanghai for heart surgery in 2001. By that time, Hong Tie Hua could not even get out of bed. The doctors in Shanghai had concluded that they could not repair her heart, so she was flown to NYU Medical Center for her successful surgery in October 2001. Our cardiologist told us that this condition was not as easily corrected as Kate’s, and it would involve lifelong, periodic follow up operations to replace the shunt and artificial valve she needed. We had already gone through the open-heart surgery process, and knew the surgeon and the hospital. She would need another operation soon, and how else would she get it? Hong Tie Hua became Caroline in March 2004.
Caroline is Kate’s opposite in so many ways. She is a confident, take charge kind of girl! Luckily, her personality meshes well with her sister’s and they play together peacefully for hours. Caroline is being monitored, and will most likely require another open-heart surgery next year. She has the strong will and spirit to make it through just fine.
Our family is not quite finished. We applied again for another heart-baby late last year and got an email from Deniece about a three-year-old boy who has a very serious condition. Our cardiologist, who is now a family friend, looked over the file, and told us that Xin Zi Long was inoperable. But, the doctor said that his condition is stable, and he would experience a slow decline over many decades. That would buy our son time to wait until technology advances enough to make heart-lung transplants safer and more reliable. The doctor said that Zi Long won’t be a soccer player, but rather, he could play the guitar and become valedictorian. That suits us just fine! We are finishing our dossier and hope to bring “Mick” home this summer.
Their medical issues are an intrinsic part of this adoption story, but frankly, that is the least interesting thing about our children. All three girls are gifted gymnasts; Colleen (11) is a math whiz and dotes on both children and animals; Kate (7) is a talented dancer and spelling champ, and, it turns out, quite a drama queen; Caroline (5) is amazingly bright and eager to learn, and has a flare for fashion. A lot has happened since that frantic night in Fuzhou nine years ago. I still (rightfully) doubt my parenting skills, but at least now I’m too busy to panic about it.
An Unexpected Journey
By Melissa Rowan
Our adoption journey actually began many years ago. We had discussed the possibility of adoption early in our marriage, however, after our three older children were born within four years, the thought slipped our minds amidst the masses of diapers, laundry, etc. When our daughter Katie was four years old, she decided she didn’t like being the only girl sandwiched between two boys and began a crusade for a baby sister. No matter how much we explained to her that we would not have any more children, she would not be persuaded. She declared she would just keep asking God for a baby sister until He gave her one. Pray she did – for six years!
When Katie was ten years old (and her brothers Jacob and John were twelve and eight), our desire for another child began to grow and we decided it was time to begin checking into the possibility of adoption. In the beginning, our only certainty was that we would adopt a girl. I was busy checking into agencies and researching international vs. domestic adoptions, yet nothing seemed to click. One day my husband Andy met a new co-worker, who told Andy about his experience with CCAI and the situation of baby girls in China. We checked out CCAI’s website that evening, and immediately we knew which direction our adoption journey would take us.
In early September 2001, we completed the application forms and got them ready to mail to CCAI. Andy put the forms in his briefcase on September 10 and planned to pick up a letter I needed from my physician the next day. Well, we all know what September 11th brought. Andy is a psychologist with the Air Force and was on the Critical Incident Response Team that dealt with the situation at the Pentagon. Our forms stayed in his briefcase as his days and nights were spent at the Pentagon. Initially we were shocked and afraid to go forward with the adoption. But after praying about it, we went ahead and mailed in our forms and were thrilled to hear Kathi’s voice just a few days later telling us we’d been approved.
I wish we could say that September 11th was the only hurdle in our process, but alas, it was only the beginning. Our paperwork took us much longer than we had expected. Reports that should have been back in four to six weeks took five months instead. Our fingerprints had to be redone multiple times due to problems reading them. Even though we had signed our home study contract in October, we were unable to get an appointment for our interviews until January. These and many other hurdles were our lot for this adoption process. The funniest of all was on April 2, 2002. I was sure it was April Fool’s Day a day late. I had to get county certification of my papers and went to the