Houston, we have lift off.

Getting eight families out of Chongqing and to the airport on time was quite the production. I would probably have written about it sooner but our newest member of the family decided to greet the day ahead of the rooster and started wailing around 4 AM the day we were flying. Having stayed up late the night before, this change in the 72 hour routine we had set up caught me off guard. I can be an early morning person on 6 to 7 hours sleep but 4.5 hours is tough.

We had to have our bags packed and in front of our hotel rooms by 8:30 AM for a noon flight. The hotel took our locked luggage to the airport ahead of us and checked it all the way to Guangzhou for us. It was actually really convenient, except for the fact that I was exhausted and I had to pack when I would much rather have been sleeping. Makena was still following her course of antibiotics. Jack was now coughing again and blowing his nose and all I could think about was how my kids were going to be able to pressurize or depressurize on the 1.5 hour flight to Guangzhou.

The thought of taking a baby on an inaugural flight is about as exciting as anticipating a root canal. You know you have to have it, you just hope it won't be too painful and that you won't lose your cool during the operation. Just before we boarded, I gave Makena a bit of Dimetap and I withheld her bottle until we started to lift off. She fell asleep before I could actually give her the bottle but ultimately, it was brilliant and uneventful. Poor Jack, on the other hand had a hard time adjusting to the air pressure on the way down and ended up with a wicked ear ache compounded by a sore throat. Not good.

This is day two in Guangzou and both my children are now officially on antibiotics. I called the doctor in to look at Jack's ears and check Makena's lungs to make sure they were clear. They were. To find this out cost me 100 Yuen, or $13 US.

In retrospect, the only thing that caught me off guard, was me. As we were boarding the plane I started crying. It came out of nowhere. I was crying for Makena and the thought that I was taking her away from the place she was born. I was crying for her biological mom and I was crying for the homesickness Makena would probably never know.

I locked eyes with this pregnant woman in the airport on the way to the gate and I think that's what probably set it off. I wondered if it was her first pregnancy, whether it wasn't, whether she was from another town and had flown to Chongqing to have the baby...all these thoughts ran through my head and then to my mother who would never know Makena, just as she never got to meet Jack, who is named after her.

After I calmed down, I came to the conclusion that:

A) I'm either going through PMS,
B) Menopause or
C) I'm just whack or
D) All of the above.

Don't answer that.

I wanted to include this picture of Makena with the giraffe cudly she sleeps with. It was taken after I gave her the inaugural "first" bath. She loved it. But trying to bathe her was like trying to hug an eel. She was slippery and wiggly and kept launching into her crocodile death roll spins and it was a small miracle that she didn't split her head against the tub, the way she splashed around in the soapy water. It was worth it though. A) she got clean and B) it was the first time she giggled and laughed freely. I've decided to give her a bath once a week, whether she needs it or not.

72 hours and counting.

Here I thought we were out in 106 degree weather at the Three Gorges Dam Museum, yesterday. I was wrong. We were in 112 degree weather. No wonder we were all so cranky. My husband has given up on all group tours for the remainder of our stay and refuses to step out of the hotel, unless it's to get on the bus that will take us to the airport. He's actually the sane one in the group -- but I will never admit that to his face.



Chongqing made the CNN International weather report as being the hotest place in China and having broken a hundred year record for heat. I knew my daughter's birth place was special, I just couldn't quite put my finger on it until now. It's 11PM and it's 85 degrees outside. On the plus side, my complexion has cleared up, I don't know if it's the exfoliating smoggy haze facials or the pearl powder face cream I bought in Beijing but something is definitely working for me...maybe it was the steam from the hotpot, come to think of it. Vanity knows no borders (and yes, you can be a vain tomboy as long as you have a no make up look).

Today they gave us Makena's Chinese passport and I don't think she will complain about her picture. She is adorable. I am biased, I'm her mom, I can say that. All her air travel has to be booked under her original name, Qian Lihan, until we get her Certificate of Citizenship and apply for her American passport. Until then, I will have to travel with her passport and her Chinese adoption decree + the notarized translation.


We travel tomorrow and Mak and Jack are sick. Makena is on day 2 of antibiotics and I suspect she also has a sore throat and has spread it to Jack, who crashed early tonight complaining that he couldn't swallow. So, selfishly, I am in a panic because I don't want to get what they have and I'm running out of airborne tablets and I'm washing my hands but I'm not feeling so great. I should be in bed but I'm too wired from having spent two hours packing which was absolutely an insane amount of wasted time.

As usual, everyone is asleep and I'm blogging when I should be in bed. I obviously need help.

Help!

Is - crazy.

PS: I'm posting pictures of our outing today. There's no hiding the sweat on our faces or the haze in the air. The kids bought some spun sugar lollypops. Big sister Catherine whose little sister is Emily, is pictured, And we walked through old town, which, funnily enough, reminded me of every Chinatown I've ever been to, give or take the odd worker balancing a bamboo pole heavy with bricks and the smell of fish sauce in the air.









Maelin, posing with her parents

More thoughts on the first day.

Tomorrow will be our third day with Makena and the honeymoon continues. When we were hearded into the Civil affairs bureau last Tuesday, the babies were already in the room. I had heard that, in some instances, that they like to play a song from the animated Tarzan soundtrack just to milk our emotions as they bring the children in from another room. Who knows. In any case, there was no surprise "reveal." There were a lot of nannies and a lot of babies being held or propped up on couches. We were all quickly ushered to one side of the room and my family and I quickly scanned the group of children looking for Makena.

The picture is blurry and had I not seen the recent snapshot of her when we were filling out her official adoption paperwork, I don't know that I would have necessarily found her in the crowd, but I did. My husband had a steadier hand and I asked (screached at, was probably more accurate) him to quickly snap pictures of Makena so that we could have one of her "just before" she became a part of our family. She was the only baby in a walker and the only one who wasn't being attended to.

After she was handed to us and I had spent about a half hour with her, I got a chance to meet the head nanny, the woman who managed all the foster mothers, and I asked her what she could tell me about Makena's imunizations and her situation at home. The woman told me that Makena shared a crib with another baby, that was younger and not yet adopted, and that she liked to play by herself. Another woman came over hearing me ask questions about "Lihan" and she said "ah...she is going to be a model, that one." Very outgoing, very active. Loves pretty-clothes. ???

You grasp at straws in situations like this. I was hoping she would say tom-boy, hates to wear pink, rocket scientist, that sort of thing. But I do believe in karmic retribution and I'm sure I've been sent a girly-girl - hopefully of the Pink Power Ranger variety. One who can pack some punch.

I must take deep cleansing breaths and be like a willow reed and bend to the wind. What ever. I get it. I'm in trouble.

In the meantime, I just made a long distance call to my pediatrician's office because I didn't like the look of the Chinese cough syrup the hotel doctor prescribed and I wanted instructions on the dosage of Children's Dimetap Cough Supressant to give her. They took my call right away without saying "hold please." I didn't give them the chance. I went into Drama Queen mode and said, "I'm calling from china, my adopted baby is sick!" And it worked. They actually spoke to me and fired away a bunch of questions. This was a very exciting way for them to start their day and it was a nice way for me to go to sleep, knowing that when Makena wakes up, I will more assuredly be able to minister some measure of relief.

Nobody said this was going to be easy.

Isabelle, party of four.

PS pictured below are contrasts in Chinese architecture: The Three Gorges Museum and the Chongqing Auditorium, that we are melting in front of.

Things that go bump in the night...

We had our first scare last night. It was my fault. I momentarily left Makena on the bed in the care of Jack so that I could fix her a bottle. Making a baby's bottle is quite the production, here. You have to boil the water - whether it is tap or bottled, and you have to get the perfect mix of formula and rice cereal (they drink it thick) and heat. The bottle has to be hotter than you would normally think an American baby would tolerate or they won't drink it. Seriously. It's taken us three days to figure this out. Warm, doesn't cut it. It almost has to be hot. Anyway, I hear Jack scream "oh no!," followed by a thump, followed by a wail. I lost it. I quickly scooped the crying baby up and after about a minute, she calmed down. I should just have laid her on the floor but up until then, I had always had to argue with Jack to let me hold his sister. He explained that he got distracted by a crocodile eating a bird on the Discovery Channel and then burst into guilt-ridden tears. I joined in with my own guilt-ridden tears and it took us the rest of the evening to get over it.

Makena may not be able to crawl but she can do this quick spin log-roll, we shockingly discovered, much like a crocodile when it catches its prey.

She is fine. The doctor said so. By some miracle, I had scheduled a doctor's visit in the hotel earlier that afternoon and we only had to wait about twenty minutes between the incident and our scheduled check-up. She isn't bruised or tender but she has been started on a course of antibiotics to deal with her wet cough and continuous runny nose. Her spirits are excellent and she babbles and gurgles a lot.

Our group went on two excursions today. My husband took part in them, having gotten up at four in the morning so that he could conduct business in order to be able to join us. We were all slammed by the heat and the Russian roulette game of trying to cross the street, at cross-walks, without getting hit by a bus or a car. Nobody stops for anything here. They don't care. This is a city of thirty million people with things to do and people to see. Lots of them, everywhere. We are surrounded by enormous sky scrapers, with neon signs and laundry hanging from them and vegetable garden roof tops. People constantly stop to stare at our group of "May Gwans" parading our adopted babies through the crowd. Saying Ni Hao, usually disarms them and earns us a smile.

We got to see the Fighting Tiger's Museum, some beautiful artworks (Chongqing is famous for its National arts Academy and has an art scene) and the Three Gorges Dam Museum...'cause you just haven't lived until you've been there. Kidding. I know I'd prefer these excursions in minus-degree weather.

By the time we were through, we had a ten minute walk to the restaurant. Our guide wanted us to taste Chongqing hotpot. It's basically Chinese fondu and you cook a variety of meats in a pot of boiling broth. You can also cook your ingredients in spicy broth -- which is what Jack and his dad did. It's 105 outside and we are steaming ourselves, sweat pouring off out bodiesm guzzling beer and chowing down on hotpot. Jack is an incredibly picky eater at home. Here, he is trying absolutely everything (except vegetables). The family seated across from us and sharing our table is staring glumly at their dinner with slight looks of disgust on their faces. It turns out they weren't feeling so "hot." And after trying to cajole them into eating anything, we give up and take it all for ourselves. May-Way (that means delicious in Mandarin)!

As we leave, Jack and I walk past our guides' table to discover that they were eating hotpot but that their selection of meats is entirely different. So I sit down with them, decide that I have survived eating duck blood and bravely try pork tripe, duck guts and duck kidney. Bottom line, take tire, chop it up and boil it in hot pepper oil and I dare you to tell the difference. What I couldn't forsee after this daring tasting of bizarre looking foods was that my husband now refuses to kiss me.

Bummer.


Isabelle
An average mom in an extraordinary country.

Whose baby is this?

Makena has us wrapped around her finger tips. I put her down at 8 PM last night and I woke up at 7AM to find her awake in her crib studying her giraffe. My husband, Jack, and I all woke up at separate times, in the middle of the night, to check on her and make sure that she was really there and that this wasn't a dream. I put her in a sleep sack because of the air-conditioning and because I didn't know what kind of "sleeper" she was. I didn't want her wrapping herself in a blanket. I was right, she rolled all over the crib, on her stomach, on her back and on her side.

We ventured out this morning in balmy 106 degree heat to check out the sights. We left dad at the hotel so that he could work and we got to see the Yangtze river and attend another Tea ceremony (and sonny-boy got to practice his tea-slurping skills.) Jack is a joy. I could hardly get him to lift a finger before she came into our lives and now he insists on taking an active part in almost everything that concerns her. He has to feed her and hold her and stroll her. I offered to pay him a dollar for every diaper he changed, but the buck "stopped there."

She has a bit of a cold -- as do most of the children -- she has, as far as I can tell, eight pearly white teeth and she puts absolutely everything in her mouth. She is nine months old and doesn't quite crawl. She rocks back and forth, pushing herself up with ease. She also has Mongolian spots on her back. I went to a seminar last fall and the doctor/speaker warned us that this was a very common birth mark in children of Chinese ancestry. They appear as large bruises that extend from the middle of her back to her tailbone. They should completely disappear by the time she is four or five, but had I not been told what to expect, I would have immediately assumed that she had been harmed, which isn't the case.

72 hours is the average time it takes for a child to adjust to her new family and to show them her true personality. I'm hoping that she doesn't stray too far from the course she has set with us because she really is perfect. I'm also giving Jack 72 hours to see if the love fest continues.



These are happy times and the waite it took to get to this point was well worth it. I really believe that all the babies that were matched to the parents in our traveling group are perfect matches and that it was all meant to be.

Isabelle
PS, The baby being held by one of the women in the China Team is Maelin. She is absolutely gorgeous and her parents are thrilled.

Makena

My family is asleep. I am shell-shocked. As I write this, I'm looking out the 17th floor window and taking in Chongqing at night. I keep thinking I'm in a scene from Blade Runner.

Makena greeted us with curiosity and us, with tears. She didn't cry the entire time we were at the Civil Affairs Bureau and she was calm and relaxed the following two hours we spent there. She chewed on a teether biscuit. She sipped water and ate apple sauce. She fell asleep in my arms on the way back to the hotel and only cried when I put her down momentarily.

She ate at dinner and Jack, our empathetic-sweetheart-comedian, was the first to get her to laugh. My husband tickled her and made her giggle and when eight o'clock rolled around, I laid her in the crib, stared at her for a bit and walked away. She fell asleep within five minutes.
Is this really a child of mine?
c="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6995/2428/320/DSC01352.jpg" border="0" alt="" />I'll blog more thoughtfully as soon as I can. Who cares anyway? All I ever want to see are pictures. So here they are. She's precious and tiny and fits in 3 to 6 months clothes. I only brought two outfits in that age range...so I'll have to go shopping.

The family at the bottom greeted their daughter, Maelin, first. I could not take more pictures as we were suddenly called next.



Thank you to everyone for your support. This is completely surreal but extremely cool.



Isabelle
On the other side.

A half hour to go as a family of 3.

Our group made it safely to Chongqing this morning. We flew in over somewhat mountainous terrain and finished it off with a bumpy landing. I discovered, as we taxied to a stop, that the little girl in the seat in front of me had been amusing herself by pouring her water glass between the seats. My bag, with all our documents, Jack's PSP, MY CAMERA, and our airline tickets were wet! I had a near anxiety attack and was relieved, after I dried everything, to find out that the camera worked (who cares about the rest).

As soon as we got out of the terminal, the heat assaulted us but what was even more startling was a group of people who saw Jack and promptly squealed and ran up to him, hugging him and dragging him away to make him pose in a picture with them. Jack, quite naturally freaked out, thinking they were kidnapping him. I knew right away that it wasn't the case and was sort of amused by it all. I mistakingly assumed that he would enjoy this kind of adulation as much as I do.

It turns out that these people were in from the province and had never seen a white face before, except for on television. The woman pictured kept trying to kiss and hug him and he was overwhelmed by it. After we allowed them to snap a few pictures of Jack, and us with them, we asked if we could also have a souvenir of this occasion.

Jack has now crossed off rock or movie star as potential career choices and I have personally crossed out detective because he can never find anything when it is staring him right in the face (he takes after his dad that way.)

About a half hour ago, our group convened in a conference room of the Chongqing (six star) Marriott and signed the formal adoption application. I was caught off guard by the postage stamp picture of Makena, looking older and less chubby. They handed us a sheet with information on her daily routine and I discovered that she eats, mashed pork, mashed liver, tofu and steamed egg -- she obviously takes after my side of the family.

I have to go. I need to slap some make up on my face.


Isabelle

Things are heating up.

We were the last of the pre-trippers to arrive on Saturday night and seeing the China Team girls waving their company sign as we rolled our luggage carts toward them brought it all home. It took an awful lot of self-control for me not to burst into tears right there and then. The ride into town was uneventful except for the fact that I was able to appreciate a sunset (and its symbolism) for the first time in a week and knew that I was hours away from seeing my better half. I was certain that as soon as he was here, that Jack would feel grounded and secure. I was right.

The China Hotel (AKA the Marriott) is five star and grand and, except for the occasional Arabian women wearing full veils and chadors, you'd almost think you were in Las Vegas. Everything here is at your fingertips and not condusive to wanting to leave...but we have to.

Tomorrow morning (Tuesday August 15,) at 6AM, we will leave this haven to catch a flight to Chonqing. As stunned as we are to finally be on the eve of laying our hands on Makena, we are all dreading it to some extent because the temperature there is in the triple digits. It was 106 Celsius, today and the same is forecast for tomorrow and for the duration of our stay. Chongqing is called "the furnace" and we are headed straight into the belly of the beast.

I can't believe this is happening.

I hope Makena will be happy to have us as parents and Jack for a brother.

See you on the other side.



Isabelle



PS: I will be posting some photographs of MaeLin, whose dad is named Jack and who has a brother, coincidentally, named Mack.

The Olympics of drama and driving.

This is a sneak peak at the Beijing Olympic Diving Stadium. The opening ceremony one, the Bird's Nest Stadium, really is a sight to behold but the picture I took of it was so faint due to the smog/fog in the air that this is the best one I can show. This picture was made possible by the fact that our driver stopped our bus in the middle of the expressway so that we could actually snap the photo. We didn't ask him to do this. He took it upon himself. Cars were whipping past us left and right and honking and he was unflappable. We were expecting a rear-end collision but, miraculously, this did not happen.

Chinese people have nerves of steel. Our guide told us there are sixteen million people living in Beijing and ten million bicycles. We see a lot of buses and automobiles and I don't know who is teaching whom to drive but these driving instructors should lose their jobs. Then again, this is a communist country so I don't think it's going to happen. This is a free-for-all and our driver, Xin, will be getting a generous tip after he delivers us safely to the airport, today. I can only imagine the looks on first-time parents' faces when they show up here with a car seat for their children. Forget it. Ha!

Yesterday was the last full sightseeing day and it was a whopper. I got to give Jack a time out in the silk factory because he kept rubbing his (snotty) face in the comforters and then actually tried to crawl onto one an lie there with his dirty shoes. We were also taken to a tea house for a tea ceremony and are now experts on tea tasting. Slurping is encouraged. The louder you slurp the better the tea...needless to say Jack took to slurping like a fish to water. I don't know how I will be able to de-slurpify him when we get home. This looks like it's going to stick.

Before that, we sort of saw the Summer Palace through the crowd. The heat and humidity were unbearable and made all the more taxing because junior wouldn't stop complaining "dramatically" and wouldn't carry a thing. It doesn't help when the seven and ten year olds traveling with us are quiet in their suffering and actually carry their own water bottles and fans. I was Jack's sherpa-mom/mood slave. We had so far to walk and I was losing it. I didn't know how to make him stop whinning, short of having a huge blow-out argument with him in the street (I've had plenty of mini ones so far.) So I turned things around and told him that I suddenly felt really dizzy (I kind of did) and that if I were to faint, he needed to grab my purse right away and hold onto it because our passports were in there and we wouldn't be able to fly to Guangzhou. That sobered him up quick and he instantly stopped complaining and stood close to me until we got to the dragon boat. I still had to carry his fan and his water so it was only a partial victory. I'm not proud but that did the trick and I was in survival mode. Besides, who is he to get all dramatic on me? I invented drama. I am the drama queen and believe me, my husband and father will confirm this.

Signing off in Beijing. Next stop, Guangzhou.

Isabelle,
Gold medal Drama Queen

Playing footsy

How many eight-year olds have had a one hour foot massage? This is wrong.

Gross

I've taken about 300 pictures since I've been here. I reviewed them with Jack yesterday and I asked him which of the multitude he wanted to me to post and this is the one he picked. You are looking at a freshwater oyster (we went to the pearl factory). Each oyster holds close to twenty fresh water pearls. I didn't know this.

Also, congee has become my favorite breakfast. They present it in a big pot and you ladle out the size of serving you want. Next to it is a tray of condiments to chose from to flavor it. The first day I tried it, I added soy sauce and green onion. The second day, I added some interesting salty pickles, seaweed and tofu. Yesterday, the third day, I'd been eyeing these red, tofu-looking, cubes that seemed incredibly spicy. So I finally asked the chef (who could barely speak English,) what this was and he said, "Fried bean curd, not spicy." Fried bean curd = tofu = vegetable matter. So I plunk a cube into my congee. Taste it and it's delicious. I keep analysing the taste, thinking it's sort of like a veggie pate, kind of salty but yummy. I'm even thinking that I'll be adding that regularly to my congee while I'm in China and wondering if I can find this back home? I ask our guide while we are driving home last night what this was and his eyes go smiley big and he "oohs" appreciatively telling me that I've been enjoying FRIED DUCK BLOOD BEAN CURD. There's no bean curd in it. They just call it that because it looks like bean curd.

Pause.

I realize that twelve hours have gone by since I ate this and I cannot throw it up. Then he points out the window to a restaurant that serves Donkey, telling me it's very delicious.

No thanks, I'll take a pass on the ass.


Isabelle

The Great Wall...of fog. AKA the Stairmaster from hell.

So I came all this way and this is what I saw. Nothing. I had no serious concept of what it meant to go visit the Great Wall. I knew it as one of the great wonders of the world and that you could see it from space. What I encountered was essentially an incredibly long staircase, crammed with people of all nationalities who were all dripping with sweat. You can't begin to imagine how much water was pouring off our bodies (and not just me). And all Jack wanted to do was climb and climb and climb. I kept telling him the fog cover wasn't going to clear the higher we went. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of losing a pound or two...losing him in the crowd came a close second.

At this stop we had probably been climbing for about forty-five minutes, maybe more. You can't even imagine how high up we were. Jack would have kept going but I kept thinking of the uneven, wet stone steps we had to confront on the return and I finally pulled the plug. By the time we made it back down to the main entrance, our hands were stained with rust from gripping the hand rail and I had about a quarter teaspoon of antibacterial gel left.
You see the military and police everywhere but nowhere do you see Fashion police. People are getting away with murder. This would never wash where I come from, although I must say, I do feel right at home here.

Isabelle.
I can't see my posts or do spell check anymore so my apologies.

Forbidden City

We went to the Forbidden City today. Jack was really intrigued by the fact that these emperor dudes had three thousand concubines...









Carefully framed photo that does not reflect the hordes of people that were there.















Where's Waldo?














Agoraphobia.

Number 2.

The first day after arriving was a little rough. Coming off a 15.5 hour flight to Guangzhou, a two hour transfer and then another 2.5 hour flight to Beijing was a little taxing on my bones. Jack was a total trouper until he crashed for two hours and was forced to wake up and go to dinner when he would much rather have slept for another four hours. Another family, that is part of our adoption group, had just arrived from San Francisco and were also joining us. Among them, a ten year old boy and a seven year old girl but Jack wasn't really into being friendly to them or to me. He could barely keep his eyes open and took a couple of nose dives into his rice bowl. Interestingly enough, you have to ask for soy sauce here. They don't automatically put it on the table.

So when our fabulous guide asked us if we wanted an, in-room, one and a half hour massage after dinner and the cost would be $20 US. I exchanged stunned looks with my fellow dinner guests, made sure he wasn't personally offering to give said massage (he wasn't) and ordered one, offering to be the crash test dummy. AWESOME. Jack was asleep by the time he hit the pillow and Massage Girl #2, arrived shortly after that. She hardly spoke any English and after repeated attempts to find out her name, I settled on calling her "Number 2." At some point in the process, she disappeared into the bathroom and came out carrying a plastic grocery bag full of hot brewing something. She indicated that I was to place my feet into the liquid and then tied the bag around my ankles. Surreal. I ended up with a bonus foot massage! I am soooo doing this every night I am in Beijing!

Also, wanting to be prepared I traveled with several packs of toilet seat liners but we have yet to use them...

Isabelle and Jack adjusting to the culture shock.

How do you spell relief?

When we were on the plane on our way to Guangzhou, they handed out all these declaration and customs forms to fill out and one, in particular, wanting you to alert them to coughs, snivels or fevers in the past week or time spent near chickens. If you answered "yes" you would proceed to the "Quarantine Station" and be checked out. So I took one look at Jack, ordered him to blow his nose start practicing holding his breath, and I signed "no" to everything. I think my deodorant stopped working just as I was going through customs and I credit my smell with getting us past the seriously unfriendly agent and into the country just as Jack was about to cough and sneeze all over him!

The flight to Beijing was eventful in that Jack ordered a bowl of dubious looking brothy soup and ate it! He then proceeded to try some sesame seed covered shrimp ball (I think that's what it was) and some kiwi-tasting white fruit that was peppered with seeds. Who is this child and what has he done to my son? I think Jack is digging China.

Our bags came off the carousel without incident and our guide was right where we could see him when we came through the doors and were assaulted by hot, humid, and smoggy weather. Nevertheless, we breathed it all in with a huge sigh of relief and as soon as we were on the road, I whipped out my cell phone and dialed home. Cingular found a network, I dialed the "+" sign, country and area code and that was it! (I did call our cellular phone service before we left to be able to do this.) It worked! It was 9PM at home (yesterday) and almost noon local time. Jack commented that we never saw August 8, 2006. It vanished. Boy, were we happy to get my husband on the other end of the phone and let him know we were okay.

So the hotel is posh and modern and the service is excellent. As Jack put it so eloquently, "This is the life." He's presently sacked out and I'm going over the menu of services available and I'm tempted by the "Kidney Preservation" treatment but I think I'll pass on the "Ear treatment." I'll probably end up with the foot massage because that's all anyone ever talks about. Now, I have to figure out what to do with Jack...hmm. I wonder if the hotel offers babysitting..?

Emotional baggage part deux.
I had to document the number of bags I finally took with us: 2 carry-ons and 2 checked bags.

Is, in Beijing.

In transit at the Guangzhou airport

A quick hello as Jack and I wait to board our flight to Beijing. The airport here is pristine. The flight over went smoothly. Jack was beside himself when the flight attendant offered him cup noodles! Then about an hour and half before we boarded the attendants offered us a choice of Amercian or Chinese breakfast and we both opted for the Chinese. Jack had two bowls of Congee with soy sauce and was again in heaven. We hooked up with a very nice couple from Florida, Barbara and Mike. When we were waiting to go through customs Barbara snapped a picture of me and Jack and almost got her camera confiscated. I wish she had. I didn't have make up on and that picture may be in circulation soon.

We're off to Beijing now.

Isabelle

Let the games begin.

Today is the day. Twelve hours from now I will be standing in front of the China Southern airline counter at the airport with my passport in one hand and a Zanex in the other. We were at urgent care over the weekend because Jack developed a sinus and ear infection last Thursday and we had to blast it out of his system so that he could travel tonight. The doctor gave him the green light, took one look at me and prescribed some anti-anxiety medication. Actually, my husband begged her to do it.

I've never taken them so I took a half-dose test run last night to see if I could function on the flight with Jack tonight. I wasn't comfortable with the thought of possibly "checking out" and not being "present and accounted for" on a sixteen hour plane ride. Bottom line, I was able to take long, deep, breaths after about a half an hour and it scared the hell out me. One tiny little pill wiped out the acid reflux and the attention deficit disorder. I even agreed to watch a Sponge Bob rerun with Jack cuddling on the couch last night and not worrying about the fact that I still hadn't packed his things or mine. And that was a half-dose! I'm not super-proud that I resorted to this and I may actually not take one tonight. In any case, I was kind of stunned to discover how many people take these pills on a regular basis just to function. Sounds extremely addictive and I will proceed with caution.

My big dilemma right now is whether or not to pack my Scrabble game. My husband says no, because he doesn't want people in our group to see the ugly side of me. He thinks I'm a Scrabble bitch and refuses to play with me. I can't help it if six and seven letter word combinations come easily to me. He's just a sore loser. He once held me hostage in a hotel for six hours playing the game until he won a round (but that's another story.) Realistically, the little tiles could present a choking hazard to Makena so that will ultimately be the reason for leaving the board behind. I can always pack my Sudoku book.

So this is it. I'm packing the Skippy peanut butter, the antibiotic prescriptions, the swim goggles and the PSP. My camera, some cash, and my Avon-skin-so-soft. I can't think of anything else.

See you on the other side.

Isabelle
PS: This is Jack, a couple of years ago, playing his first Scrabble game. That's my boy!

The face that launched the $100,000 remodel.

Meet Miss Sally, Sechuan girly-girl and Tiger lover. Her parents adopted her and brought her home in March of 2004. She is pictured here on a camping trip we took with her and her family last year. Yes, we went into the middle of nowhere with a two year old and lived to tell about it!

They are good friends of ours and spending time with them, especially watching how Sally intereacted with her dad, is what ultimately broke my husband down and helped him realize that genetics don't matter when it comes to a father loving his daughter and his daughter returning that love back to him unconditionally. Sally became the poster child whose boundless affection melted my husband's hesitations and made him commit.

As stunned and overjoyed as I was to realize how serious he was to go through with this, it was actually an intensely terrifyng moment. I was at a crossroad, having to decide whether to follow the path of becoming a mother to a child that I had not born or leaving things as they were, with one son, the best kid we could have (undeseverdly) ever hoped for. By making this commitment, to add one little stranger to our family, my husband was asking me to show my hand. He was calling my cards.

See, for as long as I can remember -- probably around eleven years old -- I wanted to adopt. I grew up watching the Vietnam war covered on television. I remember the pictures of plane-loads of little kids and volunteers being air-lifted out of Saigon and being sent to North America to start new lives. I remember begging my mom and dad to phone the number on the screen and pleading with them that they put our names on the list. I had one younger sister but I wanted a brother. They weren't forthcoming with one and this was a sure-fire way of getting him. I even called in myself but the agency wouldn't take my information down. I was just a kid, after all. It didn't happen. And my parents were so busy coping with our own family dysfunction, how could they possibly add to it?

I get it now, but the image haunted me for decades. It planted that first seed, that dream of how I could imagine my future. When my girlfriends were dreaming of white picket fences and Nights in shining armor, I was thinking of the parentless children with no thoughts of pregnancy or marriage.

So on February 13, 2005, I stood on the edge of our world and accepted my husband's declaration for what it was, the most beautiful gift of faith and love (and insanity) I could ever hope for, and I took his hand and jumped into the vast unknown, taking Jack along for the ride as well.

Less than twenty-four hours later, we quickly realized that this baby girl was going to need her own room...so plans were drawn, permits and contractors were paid for and hired...and money was spent...financially ruinous, amounts...

I've been asked "How much Makena cost?" Makena didn't cost anything. (The better question might be "How much does it cost to adopt from China, or Internationally?") and that varies depending on an endless array of factors.

Makena is priceless. The remodel on the other hand...


Isabelle.
PS: Sally, we blame your parents for this.

The baby we will soon hold in our arms.

This is Jack's favorite picture of his sister. I suspect he likes it because she is wearing pink and because he associates that color with all things "girl."

I am T - 4 days and I'm feeling weepy. I'm sad for my little Qian Li Han because by now, her foster mother has probably had to say goodbye to her forever. She has been returned to the QianJiang Social Welfare Institute, the orphanage that took her in when she was five days old. Now, alone among a sea of strange babies and strange faces, Li Han is probably spending a great part of her day anonymously in a metal crib. She doesn't understand why things aren't the same anymore and she's confused and probably scared and all she wants to see is a familiar face that will comfort her and reassure her and tell her that things will be all right, if she can just bare it for a few more weeks. And I'm sad because I also know that, even though I can dream her face clearly when I sleep, I too will be a stranger when she first lays eyes on me. I will be the one desperately reaching out to hold her, not her. I also know that it will be a long time before I can bring a measure of comfort and peace to her when she sees me.

I can't wait to hold her and love her and count the days until she reaches her arms out to me.


Is-a-mess.

Love

Jack's first reaction to the news we were adopting last year was "But I want a brother!" Then, after he thought about it for a while, he said that his Chinese sister wasn't going to look like us. Which is obviously true. I told him that it was okay and that there were all kinds of families comprised of different individuals and that none of them necessarily looked the same. I also reminded him that he had lots of friends who were Asian and that seemed to satisfy him. He then became concerned that we were going to pay too much attention to Makena and not enough to him. I told him not to worry because we were going to buy him a television for his new room! That worked...for about a minute. He saw right through me. He knew I was joking but now he still wants the TV.

Jack has always been able to voice his needs, feelings and concerns. I'm constantly amazed and know that he doesn't get that from my side of the family. That definitely comes from his dad's side. But the one question that comes up periodically and did so again a couple of days ago was, "Are you going to love Makena more than me?" "Of course not," I tried to tell him and keep telling him but it doesn't compute. He keeps comparing his new sister to the new toy you play with and like more at the expense of the other, older, toys. Of course he would see it that way. He's eight years old and his reign as the only child is coming to an end. He is going to have to share me.

He keeps asking,"How can I possibly still love him as much?" It's sad and sweet and heartbreaking to see him work through this insecurity and I completely understand it and love him even more for it. I feel really lucky that he has a pulse on his emotions and that he can voice them and that we can have a conversation about it and work through it.

I tell him there is enough room in my heart to love him, his dad and Makena and that when you add another member to your family, it doesn't squeeze out the love you have for the other two. Love just expands like a balloon. He hasn't yet asked me, "What if the balloon pops?". I don't have an answer for that.

Now I wish I could speak "dog" because ,Tiger, our rescue-pooch is a mess and I'm hard-pressed to explain that he has a good reason to be!

Isabelle

Umbilical cords

My husband gave me this bracelet back in December, 2005. I think a client had given it to him and he re-gifted it to me (he's generous that way.) He's not a jewelry man. In fact, I think he stated as much on our second date, sixteen (gulp) years ago.

So I dutifully put it on and thanked hubby for not wanting to wear it himself. Pretty soon afterward, I decided that I would wear it until the day I held Makena in my arms. I don't think she was 100% Makena at the time. Tavis and Josephine were potential names. Josephine, after both my grandmothers and Tavis, because my husband thought the girl on Survivor was "hot." I would treat this bracelet as a symbolic umbilical cord, certain that the moment I cut it would happen sometime in February...And then April, May and June...

Back on Valentine's Day, 2005, my husband told me that he was ready to adopt and that I should go ahead and start the wheels in motion. I was ridiculously happy. It was the best gift and a dream come true and as a big thank you, I gave up naming rights to our daughter so that I could keep him vested in the adoption process. I did have one veto that I could use if I had to, and thankfully not.

There's a beach on Maui called Makena Beach and we spent some time there a few years ago (right after 9/11) thinking we were witnessing a real slice of paradise. So the name "Makena" always stuck in our minds. When we found out that Makena meant "gift" in Hawaiian, that pretty much sealed it because our Chinese daughter, Qian Li Han, is a gift.

I think I've done a pretty good job of keeping it clean. I've had a few highbrow occasions to attend and I never once thought of stretching it wide so that I could remove it. Now that I'm two weeks away from cutting it off, it's adding to my mess of emotions. I'm really glad I decided to use this Nantucket rope bracelet as the link to Makena. Jack was born by c-section. I had a sheet that shielded me from seeing him come out of my stomach and I never saw his umbilical cord cut. A clean, swaddled, baby was presented to me.

Becoming Makena's family will be different but just as intimate and special. At least, I hope so.

Isabelle