Waiting For Hope

Day 6- Gotcha Day! September 19, 2011

Our day started sometime between 3am and 4am. I finally realized that I wasn’t going to sleep and that I had been laying awake for a while just thinking and pondering. I heard John rustling about next to me and it sounded like he was awake as well.

“Are you awake too?”, I asked.

“Yes, I can’t sleep. It’s like waiting for Christmas morning.”, he said.

“We may as well, stay up and talk. This is the last time we’ll be alone for a long, long time.”, I pointed out.

So we stayed up and talked about lots of things. How our lives were changing, wondering what her last day in the orphanage was like. Did they prepare her in some way? Did she get to say good-bye?

We talked about how drastically her life was about to change and how we should approach her when it came time to hold her in our arms. Hope wasn’t an infant when she came to us. She was a highly observant two-year old who didn’t seem to miss anything happening around her. She still doesn’t. I was very conscious of the need to hold it together in front of her. The last thing my little girl who did not smile needed, was for the woman everyone was calling MaMa to be folded over in a heap sobbing uncontrollably. I asked God to help me to control my emotions for Hope’s sake.

I had been imagining this day for over three years. It had brought me to tears on numerous occasions without even having experienced it. I had watched the video of countless families on their Gotcha Day. I decided on this day that was ours I would drop all my expectations and not try and imagine the moment, but instead just let it happen. I wanted to be in the moment, every moment. We decided to get up and get ready. I packed her bag, wrapped all the gifts for the officials and prepared the room….again. I looked at the empty crib soon to be filled and thought, “This is the day that the Lord has made. I am SOOOOO gonna rejoice and be glad in it!” We walked down to eat breakfast with the boys.

After breakfast we loaded the bus with our travel group for the 5 minute ride to the adoption bureau. As we climbed on the bus, everyone was smiling and excited. You could see the looks of relief that the moment was finally here. “This is it.”, I kept thinking. As the bus pulled out, our guides told us that all the children should be there this morning; however if there was a delay, we’d have to come back to the hotel and wait but  we would at least have them by the end of the day. I remember asking the Lord to please let her be there this morning, no glitches, no delays.

Driving down the streets of Zhengzhou on the way to the bureau, I thought of what an ordinary day it looked like for the people walking on the streets, but how extraordinary it was for me, for us. “I am going to get my daughter. I DID come back for her Lord, just as You promised I would. By the end of this day I will be holding Hope in my arms and in my heart. Lord, You are faithful. You did what You said You would do. It happened. It came to pass. All that waiting and here we are. You are fulfilling your promises to us. Thank You Father. You are Faithful.” By the time my prayer was ending we were pulling into the building. As I walked up the steps to the office, each step felt like it was in slow motion. We filled out more paperwork (of ‘course), found a spot on the sofas for our things and took some last minute photos of our family as four. In a little less than an hour we’d be five. Just like that.

The first baby arrived. If memory serves me correctly, it was Reid Lower, Becky’s son. Becky was our only single Mom on the trip. The office at this point literally becomes a delivery room. Maybe a tad bit more modest, but emotional and raw nonetheless. I got to watch her become a Mom for the first time. There is nothing like that sight in the world. He was incredibly adorable. She began to weep as she walked over and took him in her arms as he cried. Next was Noah Ladman, Bruce and Karen’s son and big brother Micah had come on the trip too. Noah was their second China adoption. Karen embraced him as a mommy who has been there does, with a tenderness that shows she really grasps the significance of this moment. I can’t remember the order exactly, but next I believe the Wiggins family got Jordan and the Campbell family received Julia. And then I asked our guide Rita, if she’d heard from Luoyang, Hope’s orphanage. She said, “Luoyang is about 30 minutes out.” Thirty minutes. My child is within 30 minutes of me. Three years….30 minutes. It was as if the pushing had begun…..I was breathing deep, tears stinging my eyes. Rita came over, “They will be here in 15 minutes. She’s in the city.” “She is in the city.”, I repeated to myself. Three years….15 minutes…in the same city. My heart began to beat so fast it was skipping. “Will she cry?” “Will she love us?” “What if she doesn’t like me?” “Breathe Amy…you haven’t come this far for God to fail you now.”

In less than 15 minutes a van pulled up. The door opened on the side of the van facing the building and the front door where we were standing. On the lap of one of the nannies sat Hope. My very first look at her in flesh and blood. My flesh and blood. I may not have carried her in my womb, but I have carried her in my heart forever and I have labored painfully for her in the past three years. The pains were more than I could bear at times, but in one moment, she was here and it was as if all those years of waiting and pain went away.

We stepped back and they came into the building. She was curiously and intently looking around. I could tell she was concerned about what was going on. We had sent her a silk pillow with a photo of our family on it. The nanny looked at the pillow and looked around the room for us. She didn’t have to look far because we were right there in front of her. She brought Hope to me and said to her, “Dis your Mama.”, and pointed to John and said, “Dis your Baba.” Hope looked at the photo and at us. I stepped forward and said simply, “Ni hao, Qing Lan.” (Hello, Qing Lan) The nanny seemed to get a kick out of me greeting her in Chinese. Then she leaned her toward me and I took her in my arms for the first time.

I immediately thanked God in my heart, kissed her sweet shaved head and her gaunt little cheeks. I hugged her as close to my heart as possible and tried to take in her expressions at the same time as to what all was transpiring. I gave her Lucy, a ragdoll we had made for her and a ladybug blanket from my parents, so they could be there at that moment too in some small way. I couldn’t stop smiling and staring at her. At this point, things began to go really fast. The boys come over, John is trying to introduce himself. Honestly I can’t remember it all, thankfully we have video to remind us. We are trying to grab pictures with her nanny before they leave so Hope has those memories. Still as all this is going on other families are receiving their children too. Babies are crying, it is stifling hot in the room, pictures are being taken, paperwork being filled out…yes, more paperwork. It is totally chaotic and yet it is as if  you are the only family in the room.

We asked them a few questions about her and I took her to the couch to sit down. She sat on my lap and looked around at all of us as we were each just a foot or two from her face. I gave her a warm bottle of milk which she finished so quickly I was afraid it may come back up. Then we shared some treats with her and looked over every inch of her, just like you do when they put your baby on your chest in the delivery room. The clothing she was wearing was 6/9 months but she was 2 1/2 years old. Her little legs were like sticks and her arms were skinny too. She had bites of some kind on her legs and her little shoes had been sewn together to keep them from falling apart, but she was beautiful. Every single inch of her.

I laid her head on my chest and she was very still. She began to fall asleep. No crying yet, which in adoption speak isn’t always good. If a child doesn’t cry it can be because they don’t attach to their caregivers. As she dozed, one of the babies cried out and it startled her. She sat up and began to look around the room in a panic. I knew she was looking for her caregivers. When she realized very quickly that they were not there, she let out a wail I’ll never forget. But quickly behind the tears came the anger. She had been left again. She was leaning toward the door wanting to go after them. I could hardly physically contain her. John tried. I tried again. Nothing was calming her down. We looked at each other and I thought, “Oh my, what am I going to do. Am I in over my head here?” Then Austin walked over and said, “Mom, can I try?” I was so desperate at the moment, I said yes. Big brother had the soothing touch and she began to calm down. I went and got her a rice cracker and put one in each hand. That seemed to calm her and placing something in both hands during a meltdown, would be a calming tool for months to come. Then I put a cracker in my mouth and encouraged her to eat off the other side, making eye contact with me and she did. This re-established a connection with her and she came back to me, never to leave again for six months.

Now it was time for the official adoption photo and then it was time to leave. We left and went back to the hotel. We put her on the bed, gathered around and surrounded her with toys and love. She ate all day, she was so hungry. After a while, I laid down beside her and she took her first nap. I did too. When she awoke, we gave Hope her first bath. She didn’t know quite what to think, but I sat on the back of the tub to help her. We dressed her for dinner. When I put on her new clothes and hairband and shoes, I showed her in the mirror. I’m not sure if she’d ever seen herself before. She touched her clothes and her hair and then this sheepish little smirk came over her face. I knew she liked the way she looked and thought, “I’ve got myself a girly girl here I think.” I put her down on the floor. It was the first time she had walked on her own. She had been held the entire day. She walked toward me quite unstable, teetering and tottering, but came to me in my arms. We were ready for dinner and a trip to Walmart and lots and lots of stares from the folks on the street. I felt a sense of pride walking with her. “Look at the treasure these children are.”, I thought as I passed them on the streets. “They are not disposable. They are beautiful. They are loved and they are wanted.”

That night after dinner I gave her another bath. The heat in Zhengzhou required multiple baths a day, not unlike Florida. Afterwards, I laid her on the bed on her towel to lube her up with lotion and put a diaper and jammies on her. It was just the two of us. I was talking to her, telling her what I was doing. She just stared at me. I began to tickle her a bit, no response. Then I ran my fingertips in a tickling way up the sides and over her little head. Was that a grin I saw? I did it again and again. Before I knew it, I saw her smile for the first time. Her entire countenance changed so dramatically that for a split second  I thought, “Is this the same child in the photos we were sent? Did we get the right child?” The sad little girl we saw in pictures, who we knew may not smile for a long time, smiled on our first day together. I was elated. I couldn’t believe it! This blessing was more than I could’ve asked for or imagined. I played with her some more eliciting more smiles and little giggles. Then we danced to the music of the oompah band outside the hotel helping the hotel guests celebrate Ocktoberfest. (I know…its weird. Ocktoberfest….in China?) I spun her around and she began to laugh. We had such a great time just Mommy and daughter. When the guys came back, I told them they were never going to believe what had happened. I showed them how ticklish she was and that she loved to spin around and dance (still does). Everyone was so happy. And how could we not be? We had experienced the glory of God today, we had seen His glory and His faithfulness from our front row seats in a multi-family deliver room and we would never be the same again.

Day 3- Goodbye and Hello September 13, 2011

We awoke on Day 3 to Melinda’s cooking. You have no idea how much simple things like this matter when you are so, so far away from home. Again, I cannot tell you what this little 24 hour cushion meant to our family. We were thankful to have several more hours with the Howe family before moving onto our next phase of travel- meeting our travel group for the first time. As we ate and laughed, talked and shared, there was this overwhelming sense of gratefulness. This feeling of deep contentment as I treasured the moment within my heart. And yet a nagging feeling was inside my heart because I knew we had to say good-bye to the Howe’s again, twice in one year. Their friendship, especially during our adoption process was priceless and so timely. We met with them earlier that year for dinner to ask questions about their special needs adoption, because we had been praying about one too, which is what brought us to Hope and Hope to us. It was at that dinner they told us the news of their upcoming move to China. Bittersweet. Deeply sad to see them go and know I wouldn’t see them or their children’s faces for a long time. Sweet because they were going to China and I knew God was all over this move. And even a little envious because I would love to live in China for a while someday myself. Their light is so bright, I had no doubt God would shine it in the PRC.

After a delicious breakfast, we took tons of pictures, some with smiles, some with quivering lips. They too were losing a bit of home I think with us saying good-bye. They had GRACIOUSLY prepared a driver for us, Mr. Liu, to take us wherever we wanted to go in Beijing. He was our driver for the day. We had phone numbers for translators if needed and Mr. Liu was at our service. What a dear, servant this man was to us. We felt totally at ease with him. Our plans were to go to Tienanmen’s Square, which I missed on my trip in 2007, next the Forbidden Palace and then shopping at the Silk and Pearl Market where I had shopped til I dropped on my trip in 2007. I was hoping to meet up with a booth owner there who sold me some quality pearls last time I was in China.

As we said good-bye and I looked at Melinda, so much was said though few words were spoken. I was about to go where she had been twice. I was about to become a mother again. And though there is no physical labor in adoption, it is very much a labor of the heart, the emotions and the will. My life was about to change forever, just as it did after the birth of each of our sons. She knew the roller coaster of emotions and fear I was about to experience. She also knew some of the days ahead would be hard, confusing and uncertain. I can’t really explain it, but when she looked at me it was as if she could see my soul and I felt understood in the whole adoption experience, perhaps like I hadn’t been up until that moment. Her hugs, her tears and her gaze me confidence in the face of a great unknown. Melinda, you were God’s touch on my life at that moment in time and I thank you forever, even now those last few moments together before our parting weigh heavy in my heart.

To say that it is surreal to be in a place like Tienanmen’s Square is an understatement. I was in high school when thousands of students were slaughtered there by their own countrymen, by their own government. Most Chinese now believe after much propaganda that it never happened at all, a mere creation of Western media to slander the nation of China. Knowing I was there, where those students stood and fell, gave me a deep appreciation for my freedoms. John and I tried to explain to the boys what happened and why it is so important for them to see it. I was also so thankful that my daughter would not grow up in a nation without freedom, at least not yet.

We went on to the Forbidden Palace next and it is equally as surreal. I mean, do you know how many thousands of years that palace has been there? The artifacts there are older than our entire nation. Being the writer, my imagination began to re-create the scenes of dynasty life. Workers, slaves, emperors, concubines, children all running within the palace walls, some of them never knowing of life on the outside their entire life. We hired a tour guide and he was terrific. I didn’t have on my first visit in 2007 and wanted the boys to really understand the significance and history of the Palace. “David” our guide, did a fabulous job. We got a first class education on China and its emperors. The boys were so intrigued and I kept feeling moments of utter glee that they were getting this kind of hands-on education. Its’ a home-schooling family’s dream! The beauty of the palace was just breathtaking. I can’t seem to take enough pictures of the roof-tops. They are magnificent works of art. I do love that there is symbolism in almost everything the Chinese do and say. Of ‘course that can become very restricting at times, but it also adds meaning to so much. At one point, I asked David if he had ever been to America. His answer, I will never forget. He said, ” Me? Go to America? No. No. Not yet…hopefully someday. Chinese dream of going to the DreamLand.” The DreamLand. It still gets me choked up. America to him, the America I take for granted, is a dream land. It would not be the last time I heard it called that on our trip. Our little girl was going to the DreamLand.

After the Palace, we were on our way back to the van and Mr. Liu. The boys spotted a shop and we went inside. I don’t know if it was jet lag or just clumsiness, but old Mom here, fell down the flight of stairs in front of the store as we were leaving. The seering pain in my ankle told me that either I had torn some ligaments or fractured my ankle. So let’s recap. Came to China with raging sinus/cold issue, threw back out week before and then sat for almost 20 hours of flights, now swollen ankle. Yeah, sure…this is exactly how I dreamed this trip was going to go! I didn’t dare ask what next. I just kept saying, “You know what Enemy, you don’t scare me. I don’t care if I am half-crippled by the time I get to my daughter, we will get her and we will make it through and we will go home.” And I trusted God to heal me. It’s that simple.

Our last stop before going to the hotel was the market. My gal wasn’t there, but she still had her booth, she was off that day. We purchased several sets of pearls and jade to give Hope at her significant birthdays and life events. Her 10, 13, 16, 18 and her wedding day. It was a real special moment. John also bought me a entire set of the highest quality pearls; earrings, necklace, bracelet…I wear it often, life is too short to save the pearls. And then my sweet Austin, thought ahead and bought a set of the highest quality pearls for his wife on her wedding day. Big lump in my throat. One day, some very lucky and blessed young woman is going to know that when her husband was 15, he was in China thinking of her and prepared a gift for her in advance. Sigh….Reminds me of Jesus.

We finally landed at the hotel late in the afternoon. We got into our rooms, the boys were stoked about having their own room for the whole trip. Next, we went to dinner and got introduced to true Chinese cuisine. Several things were edible, several were not. Several spices rocked our world, others were familiar. Justin loved that the Chinese serve Westerners soda at every meal. After all, I forbid them to drink anything not out of a bottle anyway. Ordering in Chinese when you don’t know Chinese and having your order repeated in Chinese and unintelligible English was quite the dining experience and I loved it all.

That night as I iced my ankle, took lots of meds and smathered myself with Icy-Hot, unable to sleep, I realized that the days ahead before we got Hope were beginning to feel like weeks. Tomorrow we would meet our travel group and climb the Great Wall, then we were on to Zhengzhou, Henan Province, were our lives would be forever changed.

Day 2- More Anniversaries September 12, 2011

Today is another day of anniversaries. Four years ago today, I climbed the Great Wall of China with three other brave women. It was at the end of our trip to China working with trafficking shelters. I guess you could say it was our reward. There was no way on Earth, I was going to the Great Wall of China and not climb that thang, all the way to the summit. After all, I may never have this chance again. Or so I thought. Fast forward again, four years and two days later and there I would stand again, during another September, looking at my favorite wonder of the world, this time with my family. It’s moments like that where I just can’t get over God’s incredibleness. His uniqueness. His full-circleness of life.

September 12, 2010 is a day that is well, kind of lost in the sky somewhere for the Bradys. When we left America it was early afternoon on the 11th. When we landed in Beijing it was mid-afternoon on the 12th. Almost twenty-four hours, but not. It gets real confusing. All I know is we didn’t live out all 24 hours September 12th had to offer, but who’s counting anyway? When we landed in Beijing, disembarked and got through all the gates, there stood Ralph Howe. A lone, curly-hair, sandy brown American man amongst a sea of Chinese. So, needless to say, we spotted him immediately. He had just left one part of the airport dropping off his mother-in-law for her trip back to America, when we arrived at another gate. Again, God’s timing and Hand is all over this trip. We were thrilled to see him and exhausted at the same time. But who has time to be tired when there is a whole new world to take in. We drove to the Howe’s home for our one night stay. We were laughing about their life here in China the past six months, when I let out a huge shrilling giggle. My boys looked at me startled as if to say, “Mom. What. the heck. was that?” I think I embarrassed them a bit. I have no idea where it came from, maybe all my excitement and relief to finally be in China. I had missed China for so many reasons over the past three years since I was last there. I would often feel and still do feel, a homesickness of sorts to be there again. And after all, my daughter was there and for the first time in her life and mine, we shared the same soil. What a thought. I was merely hours away from her after being years and miles apart.

When we arrived at the Howe’s home, gave and received an insane amount of bear hugs and smooches, we went out for a walk to the village nearby for some vegetables for dinner and a tour of their “hood”. I could hardly wait. This was one of the moments I had waited for; for my boys to see REAL China up close and uh, very personal. To see poverty, to hear a language unfamiliar, to see faces they’d only seen on TV, to hopefully have their hearts pricked by God Himself, for these people He loves so much. I felt like I was going home to visit someone, like the people on the streets knew me. I loved watching my boys’ wide-eyed wonder, exploring the differences in our grocery stores and theirs, the products that are available, the flavors things come in, and the smells…oh the smells!!! I looked at them both and said, “Boys, you ain’t in Kansas anymore.” I am so grateful for them to have this experience. I hope it marks their heart for the Kingdom as long as they live and gives them an understanding and appreciation not only for their sister’s heritage but for their own.

We came back to the house, and Melinda prepared our first and last American meal. Soup and cornbread. She so rocks. We stayed up late chatting about the days to come, gleaning any advice or wisdom Ralph and Melinda had to offer us. Then we had to hit the sack. We were meeting our travel group the next day, but not until we had gone to Tienanmen’s Square, the Forbidden Palace and the Silk & Pearl Market. Winding down was hard, I mean what a day!!! We had crossed time zones, countries, continents, oceans, poles and kingdoms all within 24 hours. That’s a lot to take in all at once, but I think we managed pretty well. The day with the Howe’s was such a blessing and we ached for more time with them, but were so thankful for what we had. We were four days away from Hope and each day it was getting even harder to wait. You’d think after three years, what’s four days, but waiting never comes natural. Ask me. I know.

Day 1- A time to mourn and a time to dance September 11, 2011

Today is one of those days where we ask ourselves and one another, “Where were you when…?” I, like every American remember precisely what I was doing. I had dropped my children off at pre-school and was headed back when my husband called and asked if I was listening to the news. I had a ministry meeting that morning and by the time we all arrived, we all knew our lives would never be the same. One of my friends at the meeting, was devastated even more than the rest of us. She had once worked in the World Trade Center and still had friends that did. We sat in front of the TV, not sure what we were seeing was even possible. Wondering what all the smoke meant, thinking there was another explosion when in reality we watched the first tower fall. Fall? How? In an instant like that you know there is massive loss of life and hope disappears.

Fast forward 9 years later. On a very early, early September 11th our family of four boarded a plane on a day we’d rather not be flying. But we had to be in Beijing by the 13th. Considering they were already 12 hours ahead of us, we had to leave to catch up with Beijing time. To make matters a little more unsettling, we were flying into Newark, just a hop, skip and a jump from New York City. But nothing, and I mean absolutely not one thing was going to keep me from going to China to get our girl. Hope was about to appear.

It would be everyone’s first trip to the East except mine. I became our family’s Tour Guide Barbie. There was such a sense of trepidation and anticipation in each of us, but I remember feeling especially excited and seemed to feel the need to pinch myself every half hour or so, just to make sure this was really happening, that God’s promises to me had really been set into motion.

The boys got a kick out of being able to see NYC from our airport windows. They got some great photos and we even took time to call the Howe family to tell them we would be seeing them in oh…12-14 hours. Ralph and Melinda Howe, were friends of ours who had just moved to China earlier that year in March. Ralph was our former campus pastor and was going to work as a golf pro at a location in Beijing. They not only had two great biological kids, but they also had two China dolls. Their oldest Amanda and I were especially good friends. God used Amanda to soothe my aching heart many times over the three years we had to wait for Hope. So we’re pretty good buddies. We would be staying with them our first night in China and then head to our hotel in Beijing to meet up with our travel group the next day. A group that became like family.

As we arrived at our gate for the plane trip to China, we were surrounded by, well, Chinese. WE were the minority and what a good life lesson that is to learn. Everyone should have to be the minority at least a few times in their lifetime. It’s good and its humbling. I’m sure they had a good idea of why we were headed their way, but I couldn’t help but wonder what they were thinking. Here’s a family with TWO boys and they are teenagers. What on earth would we want with a Chinese daughter? Most Chinese are just thankful for one child and if its a boy, even better. Or were they thinking how thankful they are that foreigners are there to adopt children caught in the cross-hairs of a policy with no foresight and little consideration for human life? Who knows. Most Chinese try to keep to themselves, so they may have done what most seem to do when they see us with Hope…act like we aren’t there.

You would think on a loooooong flight like the one we took to Beijing, that I would catch up on some sleep. But sleep escaped me the entire flight; maybe I was restless, maybe I was anxious, maybe I just can’t seem to fall asleep around 250 strangers. No matter the reason, I simply dozed, tossed, turned and stayed mostly awake for the entire flight. After two weeks of packing over 10 suitcases, backpacks and baby bags one could use a little shut-eye. I had turned my dining room into command central. All the luggage was opened and on the floor. I packed a little of each of our clothing in each suitcase, so if we lost some of it, we’d each have a change of clothes. I packed the boys an absurd amount of snacks and candy, warning them to ration it, because once it was gone they were without American treats for 3 very long weeks. I think they finished it all within one week or less, some of it was gone by the time we landed in Beijing. Can’t say I didn’t warn them.

After weeks of mind-boggling details and packing, I boarded our flights to China with a back that was thrown out and a head cold that was kicking my hiney. “Great.”, I thought, of all the times to get sick! But I had run myself into the ground, popping in and out of bed at night to write down something I’d missed or another item I needed to pack and staying up way into the morning hours to finish one last detail. It’s no wonder I was under the weather on my way to China. But I didn’t care. I’d get her one way or another. We were on a family adventure like nothing we had ever nor would ever possibly experience again. I had never felt so blessed in my entire life.

Over the next three weeks here on my blog, I’d like to reminisce a bit and give you a little peek into our journey to Hope. I didn’t blog about our trip when we were in China. I had committed myself to be there for my family 100%. Not that people who blog on their adoption journies area dissing their families, it’s just that I can only handle so many things at one time. It’s a down side of my thyroid issues, but a fact nonetheless. Our journey was so emotionally and spiritually epic for me that I was either marveling, crying, sleeping, laughing, playing, shopping, organizing our rooms, managing the boys, getting more paperwork together, bonding with the other families, doing tours or trying to comfort my little girl as her world turned upside down and then right side up. I had not one ounce of energy to blog and no one else in the family felt they knew how to “write like Mom”, so I had to let it go and trust there would be a day when I could recall our journey. I hope you enjoy what we have to share.

The Dedication of Hope August 9, 2011

Sunday morning as I slipped on my dressy sandals and prepared to leave for church, I chuckled and said to my husband of almost twenty years, “Well honey, we’re about to dedicate our third child.” He laughed a bit and said, “Yeah. Wow.” I told him that I think I understand now more than every why Abraham and Sarah named their promised son, Isaac, because it means laughter. I finally “get” what was so funny.

John and I aren’t old by any stretch. I’ll be 40 this year and John is 42. But we’ve been at this parenting thing a while. Almost 17 years to be exact. It’s funny because at our stage of life, which doesn’t match our age in life (we got started young), we should be storing away feathers to build our empty nest. Our first chirpling is slated to fly sometime in the next 2-3 years. Then after him another will follow 2-3 years later. After him, Hope is slated to follow, oh say, TEN years later. We’ve given a whole new meaning to the term generational gap. I’m laughing even now as I type this. See, I told you its funny. God has the best sense of humor and that’s what Mr. and Mrs. Abraham must have been thinking when they were getting up in the middle of the night at such an ungoshus age.

Sometimes my giggles come from the realization that I thought I had my whole life planned out at some point. That point was when I was much younger and not as well versed in the “whamo-chango” possibilities life brings you every single day. We married young, we started having babies young, so I figured we’d retire young, be young grandparents (notice the young pattern here?), and grow old together, youngly, of ‘course. Ah, but God knew I was too wet behind the ears to know the truth. The truth is, children keep you young. They keep you on the go, on your toes and challenge you every day to stop taking yourself and life so seriously. There are truly a few lesser trials of my days that are easily cured with a good Play-Doh session or a great episode of Wonder Pets. Children teach us so much. No wonder the Bible says in Isaiah 11:6 , “...and a little child will lead them.”

Our dedication of Hope was a beautiful day full of family, friends, a loving church, a yummy lunch party, balloons, flowers and the perfect amount of pink tulle wrapped beautifully around the most beautiful little girl we’ve ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She is just magnificent. The parallels of our love for her and Father’s love for her (and each of us), continue to hit my heart blow by blow. I know He sees each of us as that precious little pink girl and smiles, sighs and says, “She is truly magnificent. And worth it all.”

Dedicating Hope on Sunday was more of a formality for our hearts, for she had been dedicated by my heart once and for all last February when I placed her life (and her long-awaited arrival) in the hands and arms of Jesus. She is not mine. She is not her Shengmu’s (Chinese for birthmother). She is God’s and God’s alone. He formed her, He saw her deep need and longing, He set the plan of her redemption in motion and invited my family along for the journey. Lots of well meaning, precious people tell us she is so blessed to be here and in our family, but they couldn’t have it more wrong, even though their sentiment means a lot to us. We are the ones who are blessed. Blessed to be a part of something so transformational, blessed to be asked to truly sacrifice and at times identify with Christ through suffering (ours and hers), blessed to be asked to focus on another human being other than ourselves for once in this self-saturated life we each battle. And blessed beyond measure to have VIP seating to one of the greatest plays of mankind, the redemption and salvation of a human heart by a saving, extravagantly gracious God.

Thanks for all the prayers that have been prayed and perhaps even the tears cried on Hope’s behalf or ours as we walked the bumpy road of adoption the past several years. The story has just begun. Stay tuned. Look at these pictures of our day and know that you had a part in bringing it to fruition, for indeed the prayers of the righteous prevaileth much and I’m so glad they do.

The Pink Princess

I love these people!

Every little girl deserves big brothers like this.

Trying to corral an energetic 3 year old on stage! She loved waving to her family in the audience and requested several times to play the drum set behind her.

Check it out March 31, 2011

What an interesting day! We had our 6 month post adoption home visit today. Hope was in rare form. Quite the entertainer. But I so enjoyed reminiscing about the last 6 months and all her challenges and victories. It’s good to remember how far she’s come and the sweet moments along the way.

We also have had two really unique and wonderful opportunities. Our story of Hope has made it to two websites, other than ours this week! You can read about it on RainbowKids.com. They are an adoption advocacy website that I always refer folks to when they are looking for general but detailed info on adoption at large. Great resource. You can check out our story as featured there at this link:

http://www.rainbowkids.com/ArticleDetails.aspx?id=750

Henan Kids International also featured the March 8th post from our blog. Emily did a beautiful job of including some photos of the journey as well. You can find out more about the incredible work they do in the Henan Province orphanages and read our post here:

http://henankids.blogspot.com/2011/03/hope.html#comments

Love never fails,

Amy

March 8th March 8, 2011

It’s five minutes until March 8th. As I sit here typing I am a flurry of emotion. I just returned from the after hours clinic with Hope. Diagnosis? Hairline fracture of her big toe. Poor baby. She was just trying to help Mommy unload the groceries, when she dropped a big ‘ole can of soup on her little, yet big, toe. I’m up late posting to Facebook the same update I’m typing here when I noticed that tomorrow is International Women’s Day. Ever heard of it? Me neither. Until last summer.

March 8th, International Women’s Day, is the day my baby girl was found at the steps of the orphanage. In China, women often get at least half a day off. My hunch? Her first mom used this opportunity to safely deposit and depart from a most treasured child. She could’ve left her anywhere. But she dared to leave her right at the steps of the orphanage in plain sight, assuring someone would see Hope and respond. If the mom had been seen, she would have been imprisoned. Risky lady. I like that.

I am thinking of her, of  ShengMu (birthmother). It is already March 8th in China. When she opened her eyes this morning, I wonder what her first thought was? Was it thoughts of that beautiful little baby girl she left three years ago? Was she wondering if her daughter’s congenital heart issues were ever repaired? Does she imagine her living in America with a family who loves her? Does she hope she was adopted? I wonder if she imagines what Hope looks like now? Does she have big, black eyes and sprawling eyebrows like her ShengMu? Does she have her ShengFu’s (birthfather) sense of humor? Is that little freckle on her wrist still there? Will she ever forgive her ShengMu and ShengFu for leaving her that day? Will she believe she was loved?

You may not understand this. But I feel for her. Her life and mine are connected for the rest of eternity. Her greatest loss (and yes, I choose to believe it was a loss) was my greatest gain. She could not keep or provide for Hope, for whatever the reason. Rather than take her life, she set her free. Now, in America she is free. Free to love, to run, to play, to love, to learn, to live. I will honor her sacrifice and lead my daughter to do the same. We will never walk in her shoes. We don’t know everything that led up to that fateful day. Augustine once said, “What you do not understand, treat with reverence and be patient. What you do understand, treasure and keep.” I will treasure and keep indeed.

On the other side of the coin, I’m thinking about my little girl. My precious and beautiful, long awaited Asian princess. What will this day mean to her when she’s 10? 15? 25? 45? I imagine her bundled up and laying on those steps, knowing that her world had changed. Knowing instinctively as a child does, that her ShengMu was gone.  A loss that she will wrestle with and work through for many years to come. But praise be to her Heavenly Father, she now will not have to work through that alone. She’ll have her family to walk with her, but most importantly, she’ll have her God. Her Heavenly Father who binds the brokenhearted and is near those who are in sorrow. At age 3, tomorrow will not seem any different that any other day to her. And for now, I’m thankful for that. So thankful.

Her world has changed dramatically in three years. So has mine. Three years ago, she was motherless, now she has a Mommy. Three years ago, she had no one to hold her. Now she has arms that are available 24/7, until they are too tired and have to be traded for a lap instead. Three years ago, she was an orphan. Today, she is not. She is the daughter of John and Amy Brady. Sister to Austin and Justin. Boss to Ben, the yorkie. Grandaughter to Nana and Poppa Martin and Granmoni and Grandpa Brady. Niece to many, cousins to even more. And overall good will ambassador to anyone who will say, “Hello” and even to those who won’t. Her very life is the antonym of all she use to be. And all because of sacrifice. Sacrifice of a Savior who loves her so much. Sacrifice of a ShengMu who kept her for three months before relinquishing her. Sacrifice of a family waiting for years and almost through with their parenting days, but ever so willing to start over again with her.

So, thank you ShengMu. We will always remember you. And yes, she has your spunk, she has your same daring, lay-her-right-at-the-doorsteps personality. It helped her survive this far and will see her through. May your heart rest in peace today, may God send you the blessings your soul longs for but cannot utter and may you always know she’s loved.

Selecting an Adoption Agency March 1, 2011

Outside of the monumental decision to adopt a child, the next greatest one has to be, in my opinion, selecting an agency that is right for you and your family. There is not one agency out there that is right for everyone, but there is one that is right for you. But how will you know when you’ve found them?

When we began the process of adoption, it began with selecting an agency. There were four or so that really stood out to us from the start. Either they came highly recommended, had a well-known reputation for excellence or integrity, or we were drawn to their heart for the orphan. How in the world would we decide?

First you must begin with spending many hours on the internet. Check out as many agency websites as you can and read, read, read. Then request an information packet. When you get it, go through it with a fine tooth comb. If something in it doesn’t appeal to you, put it to the side for a while, as you look over the packets of other agencies.  It was this process that led us to narrow it down to four agencies we felt most strongly about. One agency’s information packet stood out. It read like a how-to manual on international adoption. The fee sheets were itemized in great detail, a plus point for my husband. They gave you time-lines for everything imaginable, even a sample time-line of what your trip to China would be like. When I finished reading the information they sent, I felt more educated than all my research combined. So I used their information and a few other resources to compile an agency questionnaire.  Then I used the questionnaire to cold call the top agencies we were considering  and interview THEM.

When I called, I introduced myself and told them I wanted to ask some questions about their agency. I was listening for patience, friendliness, desire to help and knowledge. You would be surprised to know that a program director in one agency couldn’t give me the number of children they’d placed (amount of experience they have) in the past five years. Any agency worth their salt has that number handy. One rep at an agency seemed quite put out by my barrage of questions and the time it was taking to go through them all. It didn’t bother me. I knew this agency would never be able to handle my inquisitive personality and the myriad of questions I would have over the next few years of waiting.

When I was done with the interviews, one in particular stood out and it also happened to be the one I felt God was leading us to after several weeks of prayer. After all has been said and done, I can say, they were the perfect agency for us. Now, there is NO perfect agency, but they were the perfect agency for us. I would never consider going to China again without them. I trusted them, their knowledge, their understanding of the country in which we adopted. That is crucial. Who do they have on the ground in that country? Who is there on your behalf when you arrive? These are very important questions, don’t neglect to ask them.

I thought maybe some of you who are considering adoption or are in the process of choosing an agency may find my questionnaire helpful, so I am going to share it with you. Be sure to add to the list things you don’t see but that you feel you need to know. No question is stupid, obvious or unimportant. If it’s important to you, it needs to be important to them as well. Happy Hunting and God bless the child fortunate enough to be searched for and found by you.

Questions for Potential Adoption Agencies

Agency Name:

Point of Contact:

Phone Number:

How long have you been in existence?

How long have you been providing adoption svcs. for China?

How many Chinese children have you placed?

What services do you provide in the US and China throughout the adoption process?

What are your fees for adoption?

Do you have an all-inclusive list of fees/costs that you could email us?

Will you lock in our fee amount once we sign a fee agreement?

What is your refund policy?

How will you keep us informed about our process once we get started?

Do you update your website regularly?

Do you have a call return policy?

Who arranges our travel to and in China?

Do you have representatives to take care of us while we are in China?

What is their English ability?

Are they typical tour guides or trained adoption professionals?

Are they available to us 24 hrs. a day while we are there?

What kind of contingency plan do they have if my child or I get sick in China?

Will they help or advocate for us if we run into problems with our adoption in China?

Will you provide me with a list of family references?

Are references available in our area?

Do we travel with a group?

When is that group assigned?

Do you allow our children to travel with us as well?

Do you conduct your own home study?

How long does that take?

What kind of dossier compilation services do you provide?

Can we wire the orphanage fee to China ahead of time?

Are we required to take parenting classes? How many?

Where during the process does that take place?

What kind of support do you offer after we return from China?

This list is by far not comprehensive, but it’s a start. If you’d like to know which agency we ended up using, I’d be happy to share that with you via email. You can request that information at info@amybrady.com

Guts and Glory February 1, 2011

If I blogged every time something wonderful happened with Hope, I’d blog every hour. If I blogged every time I felt overwhelmed, I blog a few times a week. If I blogged every time I wanted to, nothing really would get done around here. Nevertheless, here I am at 11:30 pm. Tomorrow is John’s 42nd birthday and I need to be up with the chickens to get his birthday breakfast started. Hope is so excited about Baba’s birthday. “Not Hope’s birthday”, she quickly reminded me today. Since Hope has been in our family she has celebrated every family member’s birthday. In four months we have each had our birthday, with Hope and Justin sharing the same exact day. This girl knows how to party already.

During one of her precious nap moments, I sat down with some tea and caught up on a conversation with one of my favorite authors, God rest his soul, A.W. Tozer. I had read his entire book, “The Pursuit of God”, except for the last chapter. So strange and so unlike me not to devour an entire book in one gulp. But after reading it, I knew God saved it for me, for such a time as this.

Tozer was expounding on how we Christians like to divide our spiritual life and our secular life when God never intended for us to such a thing. The gist of the chapter was that every thing we do is to be worship. Every thing we do in life is a spiritual experience, an act offered up to our Father as a sacrifice of praise. To live our lives as 1 Corinthians 10:31 says, “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.”

I won’t get into all the nuggets of truth from this chapter, because I could go on for hours. But I will share with you briefly why this chapter meant so much to me. Why his words were like water to my tired soul.

Taking care of children and running a home can be the most demanding yet ignored job on the planet. It can be so mundane. Deadlines are rarely met. Five alarm fires rage off and on all day long. The customer service department gets reamed out on a regular basis for failure to provide the service its customers enjoy and often are accustom to. Meals on Wheels never stops by our house. I am young and restless, the dog never gets enough attention, nor do the plants, or the unbelievable amount of clutter in my office. I am for sure that Niecy Nash will be stopping by to “Clean House” any day now. And she and her team can have at it. I don’t have the time.

If one more person tells me to take time for myself I am going to scream. I’m sorry, did you say time? What is that? Oh…it’s that thing that escapes me, that doesn’t belong to me and that I always seem to run out of. I am in a season of life where getting away is going to the bathroom. Do you follow me here? And I’m lucky, really lucky, if I can do that alone. Taking time for myself means asking other people to take over my job. And I don’t see a line out the door for that one.

And yet……I love my life. I love being my kids’ Mom. I love trying to be a better wife to my husband. And there’s lots of room for improvement in that department these days too. I love getting Hope’s bottle every morning. I love chatting with my teen on the way to school. I love making dinner (most nights). I love making birthdays special. I even like going to the grocery store. If there’s a Starbucks on the way, all the better.

If what Tozer suggests is true, and I believe it is, then my life is bringing glory to God. I’m doing what I do for Him. I’m raising His kids. I’m feeding them lunch. I’m celebrating their life. I’m washing His kid’s clothes, rocking them when they have a fever, kissing their ouchies, taking them to practice. I’m cheering on His kids when they play sports, when they learn to cut with scissors and when they clean their room. I’m getting His son’s favorite coffee, on sale, with a coupon. I’m encouraging him to go to men’s conferences and Bible studies, even though I can’t do either right now.

Every single thing we do as Moms and wives matters. Every. Single. Thing. Wiping all manner of body parts. Feeding them, whether it be Barefoot Contessa or Pizza Hut.

I’m teaching them about Jesus. Whether that be through sharing a Scripture or saying I’m sorry for yelling at them.

I’m showing that I care. Saying welcome home at the end of the day and giving a kiss when I really don’t want one more person to need me.

You matter. They matter. We all matter to Him. So everything  you do, whether you cook, clean or cherish, do it all to the glory of God. And in the end you will see His glory in the smiles, the hugs, the occasional thank yous and that great big mansion, with a maid, in Heaven.

The Last Stocking December 18, 2010

It was the last Christmas stocking. For years it was a symbol of a dream. It reminded me of a desire placed within me, as a child. Every year all the decorations were put on display, but this one decoration stayed in the Christmas box. After several years, seeing it began to make my heart heavy. I began to lose sight of that dream or at least the belief that it would ever be my reality.

Twelve years ago, before my youngest son was born, I came across the sweetest stockings I had ever seen. They are still the sweetest stockings I’ve yet to see. I had been looking for my boys’ “official” stocking, the one they would use their entire childhood,  to hold the goodies Santa stuffed inside. I finally found them. As I picked up two, something inside said, “No. Get three.” Three?? I haven’t even had my second baby yet, why would I need three? Then I remembered a conversation my husband and I had in the wee hours of the morning on the Christmas Eve that he proposed to me. I told him I wanted three children. If I had three children then all their stockings would match. If I didn’t have three, I could give it to someone special and find it a good home.

Year after year, I pulled that stocking out and sighed. The year before I went to China, the first time, I came across that stocking again. I said, “Lord. I have desired to adopt a child as long as I can remember. It looks like it will never happen, but I know you have given me a heart for orphans. So, please, either take the desire to adopt away from me or give me another way to touch the life of an orphan. Because my heart can’t stand to unpack this stocking one more time.” I  never imagined what the next year of my life would hold.

After I returned from mission work in China, our whole family felt the call of God to move forward with the dream of adoption from China. That Christmas I was so excited to pull out the stocking, knowing it would now belong to our daughter. I was so happy I had bought it all those years ago and that I kept it. Once the weight of the wait settled in though, Christmas became a milestone marker of how many Christmases we were missing with her. I would look at the stocking and begin to wonder again, how long it would be before her stocking was hung, with her name monogrammed on the front, waiting to be stuffed with goodies and love. Each year was tougher than the one before, as the adoption timeline for China lengthened.

Then last year we began to feel called to special needs. I never dreamed in a million years that this year the stocking would finally fulfill its purpose. I just had Hope’s named monogrammed on the front of her stocking. She and I hung it together. As I put it in its place my spirit cried out, “God YOU ARE FAITHFUL!!!!” As I saw her name, Hope, on that stocking, it was speaking to me of the beauty of hope, the beauty of the journey of God’s faithfulness. The road was long, bumpy and hard, but it was worth it and my God was faithful. Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled onto my face, as Hope looked on. She wasn’t sure what MaMa was feeling, so I assured her they were tears of joy. Utter, complete joy. Longing fulfilled. A heart satisfied. Hanging her stocking, for me, was the culmination of the journey. As one journey ends, another begins. It was the last line in a long chapter of our lives. Of my life.

God did what He said He would do. He kept His promise. He never left my side. He never left Hope’s side either. He finished the job. He began a good work. He carried it to completion. And our lives will never be the same. Praise His Holy Name.

“And I am convinced and sure of this very thing, that He Who began a good work in you will continue until the day of Jesus Christ [right up to the time of His return], developing [that good work] and perfecting and bringing it to full completion in you.”  (Philippians 1:6) (AMP)