Placement

OK, H is still napping (she doesn't like to go down for naps), so we'll see how far I get....

The day of placement was 02/18. We were supposed to get the babies at 9am. It got moved to 3pm. Torture! They said it was because some of the babies had to drive really far. Our SWI is supposedly between 6-8 hours away, and one other (we had babies from 4 SWIs) was about 6 hours away, so unlike what I've heard in the past sometimes happens, they did not bring them the day before. I can't imagine what that added to the stress of the day for her.

We went to the 3rd floor of civil affairs, into a wood panelled room, with lots of chairs, a large waiting room basically. There were children being held, sitting there - totally unknowing what was to come. Even though nothing was really going on, my head was buzzing like it was chaos. I was sure I'd start sobbing at any moment, but amazingly, I never did. I realized after about 3 minutes that these were our babies. I don't know why it took a minute to sink in, but as soon as I did, I whispered (why, I have no idea) "Is H here?" P couldn't figure out if she was there wither. She was, and I think if I had been thinking I would have been able to pick her out, but I couldn't focus on any of the faces. I do have to say, going back to the crying thing, when we went into the elevator to get to the 3rd floor, and then saw the sign when we got out for the dept), I was holding back tears. So, we're trying to focus and look at the faces of these children, and then our guide comes over to the group and says "They are going to give you the babies now." The family with twins went first, and we were all videoing them...I hope someone got video of us, I didn't even think to ask anyone - and then he tugged on my sleeve and said, "Here, you go next - there's your baby." We took 4 steps, and poof, she was in our arms (mine to be exact).

She just stared at us. She pushed back from me a bit, not to get away, I don't think. She just wanted a better look at this new person. She would whip her head when she moved it. She would look over one of my shoulders for a few minutes, then whip it to look over the other, then look at P. She just was absorbing. The nanny had disappeared right away. H smelled of coal. I can't even open the bag her clothes were in now...they smell so heavily of the acid smell.

After about 10 minutes, she started wimpering. Then a tear. Then a little anxiety. We took her to the window to look out. We've learned that she loves seeing movement and activity, so that calmed her for a bit. Then a group of Europeans came in and got mostly toddlers. Chaos really ensued. Lots of screaming. That jacked up H. The tears started flowing. We tried to make her a bottle, but she wouldn't take it. We bounced, rocked, cooed etc...somehow we kept her somehow "not hysterical", except for small bouts of time. We took pics of other families, and milled around, I guess as our guide handled the administration of the handover.

The nanny came over to get her thank you gift, we took a picture or 2. I didn't know what to ask - I was so focused on watching H's reaction to her. There was none. I don't think this woman cared for H daily. She could have cared less that she was there! I asked how she took her bottles, as we had gotten formula and rice cereal. Her answer? "Normal"...yeah, it took us 3 days to get a bottle thick enough with a big enough hole in the nipple that she would accept it (thank God for congee and steamed egg!).

Then they told us it was time to leave. What a strange thing, it felt like. Here was this giant baby (she was in a snowsuit, and sweater outfit and pjs), and they just handed her to us and said "bye, see you tomorrow." She looks so much like the pictures we got, I couldn't believe that I didn't recognize her instantly. The same lips, the same eyes. I just kept looking at her. I couldn't believe she was more than a picture. And I was so engrossed in trying to make her happy. She wouldn't take the soft giraffe with the teether feet. We saw during one scream that she did have 4 teeth, 2 up, 2 down. She liked hard toys, but wasn't sure about taking them from us yet. She liked to touch our faces. I tried to let her, but control it a bit, I didn't want her to get my death plague I was trying to get over.

So, we piled into the elevator, down to the foyer, piled into the bus, and went back to the hotel. H just watched out the window, sometimes looking back at us. If the bus stopped, she screamed. She does that to this day in her carseat. God help us if we ever end up on the expressway in rush hour! She watched every single thing on the street that day. I'm sure it's all in her brain cells, every detail.

We got back to the hotel, they told us they needed a paperwork person, and the other parent (parent, who where they talking about?!?!) was to go to the room with the child. We went dashing back, got the stuff I needed, took off her outermost coat as she was sweating a storm, I asked P if he'd be ok, and I went to do paperwork.

I came back, she had her snowpants off too now, she had a toy in her hand, and she was watching BBC news on her Dad's lap. Yes, my 10.5 month old was engrossed in world politics on BBC. This was definetly my child.

OK, that's enough for now...have to check in with work. This may seem like a very clinical telling of this part of the story, but that's how it feels! It was very mechanical, very business like...I'd like to romanticize it, like we hear so much, but it wasn't. It was something that happens every day, all day, in that office. I thought on that as she lay between my knees that night sleeping (hey, it worked), and it was an overwhelming thought. Every day. All day. Babies brought here to be adopted out. It made me cry. But it is a fact of life there. And I'm one when under stress to buckle down and do what has to be done. My heart was beating a million miles a minute, that my child was in my arms, but I just buckled down and did what had to be done, like the people working in that office. I seemed to hold my breath for 24 hours though, until the paperwork was done. To know that China saw her as ours. It was just how I was. I had to focus on keeping her happy. Keep focusing on forms to be filled out. Focus on when she cried, to find out what would make her stop.

Speaking of, the baby has woken up...lunch time.