(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)
I mentioned a few days back that when Sister Susie was placed in our arms, we were told that she had pneumonia. Well, that wasn't even close to how I pictured our "first moments" with our new baby girl. And when I found out that we would have to take our girl to the orphanage clinic each day for a round of antibiotics, I wasn't thrilled about that either.
After all, I had a China to see.
And this little "sick child" business was not a part of my plan.
But enough about me, let's get back to me.
Here I am, holding the Suz after the IV was placed in her scalp:
And that smile?? It was all a show. Not a one of the babies (parents) enjoyed the daily scalp treatment.
But you see that cell phone in my hand? That was a little trick that the China ladies used to calm the babies down. They'd select a tune, and let it blare right next to the howling babe.
It seemed to work.
(Now, if we could just get the Suz over her fear and hatred of cell phones, we'd all be doin' good.)
(Pffft. Just kidding.)
Oh, here we are. The group of IV babies and their parents:
I mentioned a few days back that when Sister Susie was placed in our arms, we were told that she had pneumonia. Well, that wasn't even close to how I pictured our "first moments" with our new baby girl. And when I found out that we would have to take our girl to the orphanage clinic each day for a round of antibiotics, I wasn't thrilled about that either.
After all, I had a China to see.
And this little "sick child" business was not a part of my plan.
But enough about me, let's get back to me.
Here I am, holding the Suz after the IV was placed in her scalp:
And that smile?? It was all a show. Not a one of the babies (parents) enjoyed the daily scalp treatment.
But you see that cell phone in my hand? That was a little trick that the China ladies used to calm the babies down. They'd select a tune, and let it blare right next to the howling babe.
It seemed to work.
(Now, if we could just get the Suz over her fear and hatred of cell phones, we'd all be doin' good.)
(Pffft. Just kidding.)
Oh, here we are. The group of IV babies and their parents:
(I'm in the back with Baldy.)
(Guess I should clarify. I'm in the back beside Baldy, and holding another Baldy in pink.)
(Guess I should clarify. I'm in the back beside Baldy, and holding another Baldy in pink.)
And here are the doctors who took such good care of our girl:
And a look into the room where we spent many hours - four mornings to be exact:
I like that last picture. It's a different perspective. Pa had stepped out of the room one day and snapped that shot--giving us a view from the outside looking in.
And as time wore on, my thoughts on the whole "sick baby" gig changed. "Respiratory infection" and "IVs" went from being a bother to being a blessing.
You see, we spent four mornings at the orphanage. Four mornings interacting with the staff. Four mornings asking questions...listening...observing.
And you know what I saw?
I saw people who loved my girl. Who called her by name. Who called her by a nickname, no less. Who told me things about my girl that I would have never found out otherwise.
And that's a gift. It's a piece of China that I can give to my girl that will mean so much more to her than whatever great trinkets I had intended to buy.
I've got stories...I've got pictures...I've got memories.
But most of all, I've got the truth:
That there were people who loved my baby, before I walked in the door.
And that's the China I wanted to see.
