When my plane landed in Guangdong, China you could say I freaked out.
What if something goes wrong? What if she doesn't like me? What idiot goes to China by herself? What if I'm not really in China? What if they give me the wrong child?
These are all questions any self-respecting, adoptive mother would ask.
It was February 7, 2004 and I hadn't slept much in 48 hours. The flight felt like 172 hours. No problem, I can handle this. Or no? I started crying and could not stop. I didn't realize I was crying until I wondered why my face was all wet when I wasn't in the shower. It wasn't a gentle sobbing sort of cry, rather an uncontrollable river-like flow.
Crying and walking off the plane, it wasn't long until Kathy approached and asked if I was Leslie. Being the only Caucasian with a wet face surely gave me away. Kathy would help me bring my daughter home and help with all of the procedures, paperwork, rituals, transportation and translation. God bless Kathy.
Of all the thoughts swirling around in my mind at warped speeds, the overwhelming reality struck that God was making my dream come true after 29 years. Perhaps this revealed the real reason behind my tears.
With no time to lose, we headed to my hotel to unpack and gather all of my paperwork. From there, we departed for the Chinese government office about two and a half hours away. This was really happening.
Upon entering the building, official looking people escorted Kathy and I to an empty room with only a desk and a few chairs. Kathy instructed me to wait and not ten minutes later, she returned and announced, "She's here".
I thought I was going to throw up.
Not sure how normal that is, but that's what I felt. Add to this a racing heart and sweat everywhere. And then it all halted the second beautiful Olivia toddled through the door.
Her almost three year old gaze fixed on mine. Her look, which I will never forget, said to me,
"Is it really you?"
Olivia had the small photo album I mailed her five months earlier tucked securely under her arm. It was tattered and dirty. The nanny from the orphanage spoke in her native tongue and Kathy translated, "She carries it around with her everywhere. She looks at it all day. She shows everyone her new family."
My first word to my daughter was, "Hi". Now at this point every single person asks me if I bawled. It would probably make a better story if I did. But this was our story and, alas, I did not. I smiled, holy gravy, did I smile. Besides, my tear reservoir was all dried up from the previous episode which I now believe was a very good thing.
What transpired next is a bit of a blur. Paperwork, lots of Mandarin, more paperwork. I gave Olivia a doll and she looked at it and threw it and more paperwork. Olivia started crying, more Mandarin, and then the nanny said, "Mama" and placed her into my arms.
Screaming so loud she could have set a world record, (honestly, you probably heard her), Olivia grabbed the photo album from beneath her arm and began to repeatedly smack me on top of the head with it. I thought it was precious as only a mother could. She screamed another three hours straight while I reassured her over and over, "Just let it out baby" until it ceased. She was done. And she didn't cry again for rest of our two week stay in China.
Back at the hotel she found a banana and proceeded to eat it whole. Oops! So much to learn. After the banana, and eating some noodles (her favorite food to this day) she passed out on the bed. I tried to take at least one of her four layers of clothes off as she was burning up, (quite typical of how they dress children there), but she wouldn't have it. The orphanage informed me they wanted all the clothes back. Oh yes, they did. Olivia couldn't even keep the clothes on her back. Don't tell the Chinese government, but I kept her socks and a little jacket.
I sat on my bed staring at Olivia for hours in amazement at how much love I had in my heart for really, a stranger. How I longed to count her toes and peek at her belly button, was it an innie? An outie? Didn't matter, I loved her so much, I would have died for her. Crazy, right? Certainly up to that point she did nothing to earn my love. And that is when the words of God filled my hotel room, truly, there was room for nothing else..."Now you get it. You finally understand how much I love you."
It was a moment and a day to eternally behold, one indelibly etched on my heart.
Three days later, Olivia was in her stroller and we went for a walk. About 15 minutes into our outing she tilted her head all the way back, looked up at me and said, "Mama".
Yes baby, forever and ever.
Thanks for reading,
L.
