Seven Years

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Seven years. That’s how long we have waited for you. That’s about 2,500 sunsets, over 7,600 meals and nearly 500 graded research papers. Since we started this process in March of 2006, there hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought of you and wondered what it would be like to be your mother. Soon we are going to find out. A lot of things have happened in the past seven years, so I want to fill you in on some of the highlights:

• Your big sister Maddie was a 3-year-old in the Turtle Room when we started this journey. When the social worker came for our first visit, Maddie put on a Jasmine costume instead of the pretty dress I had picked out for her to wear. Worried the borderline-skanky outfit wouldn’t give our best first impression, I frantically grasped for words to persuade your strong-willed sister to change her clothes and said, “But if our social worker meets you like this, she might think you are actually Jasmine and not Maddie.” I breathed such a sigh of relief when she said, “Oh, you are right!” and changed her clothes.

Maddie is now almost 11 and will start middle school next year. Her enthusiasm for being your big sister is boundless, and she constantly talks about all of the lessons she will share with you. Get ready to learn about “Girl Power.” Get ready to learn how to play the piano, the violin AND the guitar. Get ready to read a library full of books from Goodnight Moon to Harry Potter. Get ready to learn about all things Disney… that’s my fault, but you’ll thank me later when we have breakfast at Cinderella’s castle. Get ready to sing and dance to preteen music from artists like Lady Gaga and the Black Eyed Peas. I really hope your first words of English are appropriate and don’t get us in trouble at preschool. Your referral report said you love to listen to music and that you “shake your little butt and hands” when you hear it. We know you’ll feel right at home here. Get ready to learn about friendship troubles and boys, as your big sister is navigating that world right now. Get ready to learn about “fashionistas.” Maddie has already told me she will be in charge of your wardrobe. Hmmm… I’m not sure about that.

Maddie, who is full of energy, fun and love, is growing up and may not want to spend as much time with her family in the near future. That makes me a little sad, but I know it is a normal part of growing up. However, I’m sure she will always be willing to help you put on your own Jasmine, Cinderella or Snow White costume and play princesses with you because she is that kind of girl.

• Your dog Lindsey was adopted, too. Like Maddie, she is affectionate, funny and, as Kennelwood said, “could use some leash manners.” I don’t know if you have been around animals much, so this could be an interesting transition for both of you. When we first brought Lindsey home, she suffered from some pretty strong separation anxiety, which is common in dogs who have changed homes. For several months, she followed me everywhere to the point where I had to make sure I didn’t trip over her because she was always at my feet. We have made mistakes, such as when we left a tub full of dried mango slices on the counter and she had her own party with graphic consequences later. We have learned a lot about adoption from Lindsey… how to be patient and calm when she misbehaves, and how to reassure her that we are her forever family. Each day Lindsey feels a little more comfortable in our home. She no longer follows me everywhere and prefers to sit by a sunny window in the dining room. You will enjoy taking her for walks, particularly because you will be in the stroller while I am trying to push you and manage an excited dog on a leash. Good times! Hopefully, she will make you laugh and help you feel at home with us, too. And we promise not to feed you too many mangoes.

• Your dad isn’t exactly sure how to prepare for you, but he is doing what he does best—shopping for bargains. I call him “King Gratuit” because he seems to have a connection to free and discounted items at every retail store. Currently, he is focused on travel gear, having brought home several enormous backpacks for our upcoming trip to China. (Maddie and I just shake our heads.) I have grown patient waiting for you for seven years because I have had lots of practice waiting for your dad outside of various retail stores. You will get used to—and annoyed by—this phenomenon, too. Don’t worry: we will bring lots of books to read while he finishes shopping. And don’t complain too much because some of these shopping ventures have resulted in pretty jewelry for you and your big sister.

I’ll also let you in on a little secret: he was so excited the day we received your referral that he accidentally backed into our garage door. He is a little embarrassed about this, so don’t say anything, but I happen to think it is kind of cute. You’ll recognize our house by the dent in the garage door. Also, he is a night person, so as you adjust to the 13-hour time difference, he will be your best pal. I’m sure he will teach you all about ’80s music, umbrellas and, eventually, ahem…Scotland. He has “Heat-Miser” hair first thing in the morning, but don’t let that scare you. He has a great heart and has already fallen in love with you.

• As your mom, I can’t even fathom all of the ways I have prepared—obsessed, really— for your arrival. Your dad and I have filled out stacks of paperwork and have been fingerprinted five times. I have read books about China and adoption and Chinese adoption. I have packed and now unpacked over a dozen tubs of baby clothes we have been saving for you. I have learned a few words of Chinese. In fact, I have even visited China. In 2009 I had the amazing opportunity to go to China with a group of teachers to learn about Chinese history and culture and then share that with my students. I soaked in as much information as I could hold to better understand your heritage. I noticed hundreds of baby girls in China and was so touched by how well their parents cared for and doted on them. I have told over 1,000 students about you and how I had hoped “this would be the year” I would bring you home. My current classes are full of teenagers who were adopted, and these young people and their parents have generously shared their stories and tips with me.  My colleagues in the English department have had 16 babies in the time we have waited for you, so I have lots of awesome resources for advice on toddlers.

For seven years, I have celebrated seven birthdays, seven Mother’s Days, and seven Christmases with mixed emotions. Each year, when I blow out the candles on my birthday cake, Maddie says, “I already know what you are wishing for.” During the holidays, sometimes I have to change the radio station when “All I Want for Christmas is You” comes on the air. Last year, I felt so confident I even bought you a Christmas stocking and had it monogrammed. You dad said cautiously, “Isn’t that a little premature?” But I held out hope you would be coming home soon.  After we received your referral in November, I proudly hung the stocking. I can’t wait for Santa to fill it with goodies next year.

Mostly, I think about you and your birth mother. Sadly, we won’t know anything about her specifically, but I do know this: she loves you so much and worries about you just as all mothers do. She personally cared for you for two months because she wanted to give you the best start possible. She left you under a banyan tree because it is a place of beauty and peace. It was a safe spot where you could be found quickly, but not so quickly that she would get into trouble and jeopardize both of your futures. I will never be able to talk to your birth mother or thank her for the inconceivable sacrifice she is making, but I do send her positive vibes whenever I can. I tell her, “It will be all right. Your baby will be OK. We will love her and care for her. We will teach her about China, and we will always honor you.” There is a special tradition in China when people who are separated look at the moon and think of each other. Whenever I look at the moon, I think of you and your birth mother and how this journey will soon end so that another can begin. Hang on, Wendy. We are coming for you.