Kay Bratt Uncensored

Mei Li and the Wise Laoshi Book Release! (Written by Kay Bratt)

2011-12-04T17:15:00.000-08:00

Do you want a fun book that also helps to answer those hard questions your adopted child has? I hope this is it and that your child will love Mei Li and the Wise Laoshi!

Mei Li has just about had it with Cameron’s teasing, and she daydreams of having a fairy
godmother. Instead she is granted with a wise old teacher from China who appears
at her bedside! With his magic cane and his gentle ways, Laoshi takes Mei Li on
an adventure to China and back to the day she was born to show her how her story
began. Together they perch on a shaky pagoda and look at the Great Wall of
China, a flowing river, and even pandas as the wise old Laoshi guides her
through some hard questions she has been holding in her heart. Laoshi teaches
Mei Li that a family is not just about who you were born to, but can also be
created through the amazing gift of love.

Buy now just in time for Christmas! Available at this Amazon Link.

http://www.amazon.com/Mei-Wise-Laoshi-Kay-Bratt/dp/1468003070

You Can Win this Karito Wan Ling doll!

2011-11-13T11:09:00.000-08:00

You can win this Karito Wan Ling doll.

Go to my new blog to find out how!

Click HERE to find out how easy it is to get in the drawing!

Come Visit Me at My Website www.KayBratt.com

2011-11-05T11:29:00.000-07:00

If you have found your way to me on Blogger, please follow the link below to my website. I have a current blog there that I post regularly on.

Hurry up....come see what I have to say! You can also visit me on facebook and get involved in many discussions related to China, orphans and/or institutional care.

http://www.kaybratt.com/

I Met A Girl

2010-05-06T19:19:00.000-07:00

Find out a little about her at.....

http://kaybratt.com/2010/05/i-met-a-girl/

Vintage Pearl Giveaway by Kay Bratt

2010-04-24T15:31:00.000-07:00

You can win a gift certificate to buy a beautiful necklace from Vintage Pearl.

Go here to find out how!

Last Day to Enter to Win A Calin Asian Doll!

2010-04-22T10:20:00.000-07:00

Today is the last day to get in the drawing to win the Calin Doll. See details on my Facebook page here.

Kay Bratt Giveaway of children's chapter book

2010-04-05T03:36:00.000-07:00

Go here to find out how to win this!

I Am Giving Away 4 Books!

2010-03-13T07:03:00.000-08:00

Go to my latest blog post to see how I am giving away 4 of the Encore editions of Silent Tears!

Go Here to Get in the Drawing!

Fancy Nancy Easter GiveAway!

2010-03-01T16:14:00.000-08:00

See details of my Easter giveAway at my website!

[Click here]

Mifan Mommy Feb 2010 Report

2010-02-28T16:14:00.000-08:00

You wanna know what the Mifan Mommy Club is up to? Then go HERE to find out!

Get Prettied Up with the latest Kay Bratt GiveAway!

2010-02-22T04:18:00.000-08:00

Check out the latest Kay Bratt GiveAway at my website blog! Your daughters' will love this one!

Worth The Tears

2010-02-20T15:10:00.000-08:00

Find out what made Kay Bratt cry by reading her lastest blog post on her official website.

Kay Bratt GiveAway of My Story Lifebook!

2010-02-17T03:44:00.000-08:00

Find out how to win your own My Story Lifebook Template at my new blog.

Drawing will be this Friday!

Go Here for Details!

Kay Bratt GiveAway of Pagoda Dress!

2010-02-12T05:00:00.000-08:00

You Can Win this Adorable Pagoda Dress.

Go to my website to see how!

Kay Bratt Recommends Peony In Love by Lisa See

2010-02-09T11:13:00.000-08:00

I stayed up half the night finishing Peony in Love by Lisa See. What a book! Not only are you drawn into a dramatic love story, but along the way you are able to feed your mind with information of ancient Chinese history. I learned about the Manchu invasion, foot binding, abandonment and the many beliefs some Chinese have of the afterlife. It was a page turner for sure and I was sorry to see those words, The End.

The tradition of foot-binding has always puzzled me. In this book, I finally understand it a little more.

Here is a favorite excerpt:
My bound feet were extremely beautiful--my best feature--and I took great pride in them. Ordinarily I paid strict attention to Willow's ministration, making sure that my deep crease was fully cleaned, calluses cut down, and my nails kept as short as possible. ......A woman's feet were her greatest mystery and gift. If some miracle happened and I married my stranger, I would care for them in secret, powdering them to accentuate their odor, and rewrapping them tightly so they would appear as small and delicate as possible.

If you want to cry, laugh and celebrate with Peony, you can buy the book here:

Seeing Angels

2010-02-02T09:27:00.000-08:00

Read my latest blog post Seeing Angels!

Stolen Children?

2010-01-25T09:41:00.000-08:00

If the latest scandals about Child Trafficking in China have your attention, please read my latest post on my website.

Stolen

A New Kind of Life

2010-01-14T06:47:00.000-08:00

Can you imagine making the decision to live a different kind of life and then packing up everything you own and moving to a place half way across the world? Jenny did it and I want you to meet her! Go to my website http://www.kaybratt.com/ to read her story.

Sneak Peek at Spring Give-A-Way!

2010-01-10T08:32:00.000-08:00

You don't want to miss this one! As a celebration of the new release of Silent Tears Amazon Encore edition, I am doing an extra special give-a-way. See my Kay Bratt website for details on how to win a Vintage Pearl unique neclace!

Silent Tears Encore Edition

2009-12-15T09:57:00.000-08:00

Silent Tears Encore edition is now available for pre-order sales.

This is the same story but with some updates (especially Xiao Gou) and a new section in the back called Letters to Kay that includes some amazing letters from adoptive parents.

I hope you love the new cover, it would make a great gift or even a beautiful coffee table book for your home.

Buy Here

Operation China Warm-Up

2009-11-05T09:19:00.000-08:00

Most of us do not have to worry about our children staying warm this winter. However, now that the temps are beginning to drop, my mind is constantly straying back to those many winter days I spent walking through the rows of babies in the orphanage-- babies who were dressed in three layers of clothes and then strapped down in their cribs with no ability to move, roll over or work the numb muscles. Sound sad? Yes-- it does but it is true. One need I remember having each year was for warm sweaters for the infants, toddlers and other children.

If you would like to pick up a sweater or two and mail it to me, I will be sending off a box of sweaters to two orphanages. I cannot say which, as one was the orphanage I wrote about in Silent Tears; A Journey of Hope in a Chinese Orphanage. You may not know exactly where it is located but I can promise you that the children will benefit from your gift of warmth.

Update:

Success! 175 sweaters collected and sent to China! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

Finding Treasures

2009-10-01T16:55:00.000-07:00

See my latest post here!

Win a children's Mandarin Picture Book!

2009-06-14T04:47:00.001-07:00

I will be doing most of my blogging from my website now. In recognition of a newly designed site, I am doing a giveaway. But you have to go to the new blog to enter!

Just go to www.kaybratt.com and find the blog page. There will be two lucky winners!

2009-06-03T16:01:00.000-07:00

For you SILENT TEARS readers who remember Jia Jia in the book, here is an update:

It's been a long time since I sent an e-mail about Jia Jia but I guess cause we are just living our normal everyday life and there isn't much new going on. But there has been a special event that happened last week. Jia Jia graduated kindergarten! She is such a different little girl than when she first started school. She speaks very good english, although there are still some things she doesn't say right but I think that's the case with all kids at her age. She can write her name and spell her name, first and last. She can read small words, she can say the days of the weeks and the months in the year and so on. Her teacher was so proud of her improvement. She also has picked up phrases like My feet are "killing" me and I am "burning" up. It's pretty funny. She also tells the other kids when she wants something from them "I'll be your best friend".

She will be 7 in November. It's hard to believe she is that old. Well anyways, here are some pictures from her graduation and I stuck one in there of her having fun at Chuck E Cheeses.

Here She Is....Hunan Baby Hope!

2009-05-25T16:13:00.000-07:00

Thank you so much for sponsoring Hunan Baby Hope! Though there are only 3 actual sponsors, I feel like she is sort of being covered by the whole adoption community-- so many of you wrote me about your concerns and prayers for her.

Baby Hope was found outside her orphanage with some formula, 150 rmb and an IV indwelling still attached to her head. Obviously, my original theory was almost right on. The parents were given the news at the hospital that their little girl was very sick and they made the gut-wrenching choice to abandon her in the hopes that someone would be able to help her.

The 150 rmb is very telling-- as that is a lot of money to a poor Chinese family. My heart breaks for the mother who left this beautiful baby girl.

Notice how bundled up Baby Hope is! They always do this in China for a sick child, even when the weather is hot. I remember seeing bundled up, red-faced toddlers and infants all over the hospital and wanting to snatch them up and peel off their layers to give them relief. Once in the Shanghai Daily, a doctor was interviewed and pleaded with parents of sick children to give up the old beliefs of bundling and let their children breathe.

Once again-- thank you for sponsoring Baby Hope for the Bamboo Baby Program at Pearl River Outreach. I hope she will make it-- she sure is a cute little tike. And if you are interested in sponsoring other children to place them in loving foster homes, please contact me and I will help match you up with a child in need.

Warm regards,Kay

Jasmine

2009-05-21T04:48:00.000-07:00

Little Jasmine came home to her family in August 2008. A few months ago, she was being prepped for surgery for her cleft palate when her noisy breathing during pre-op concerned the doctors. They scoped her trachea and then the surgery was halted for more tests. The test results showed that Jasmine suffers from a rare congenital heart defect. Undiscovered, this would have resulted in probably a relatively short, tragic life. Jasmine will have surgery on June 12. As you can imagine, this has turned her mom and dad’s world upside down. There is no doubt in my mind that fate brought her here because left behind in the SWI, she would probably have never been diagnosed. Please give Jasmine and her mom some support- visit their site-say some prayers. Thank you for being the awesome community of parents that you are!

Jasmines Journey Home

The Cutest Darn Thing Ever..

2009-05-19T16:45:00.001-07:00

For those of you who have read my book, you probably remember Le Bai. If not...here is a few pictures of him at the orphanage before he was united with his forever family.

Now for the Cutest Darn Thing Ever...go to the link and see how he is today since he is happy, healthy and loved. He has grown so much! And is so smart! Because of his albinism, his eyesight is a struggle-- as you will see as he tries to read the book....but it IS THE CUTEST DARN THING EVER!

Get A YouTube Smile Here

Hunan Baby Girl Plea

2009-05-14T12:05:00.000-07:00

[Update #2: Thank you, Jessica! We now have all 3 sponsors! for Hunan Baby Hope]

[UPDATE: We Still Need One More Sponsor to ensure that Hunan Baby Hope is released from the hospital into foster care, rather than back to the orphanage. If you want to really make an impact on a life-- this is the opportunity! Thank you Gretchen and Denise...you got us 2/3 of the way there!]

Imagine this.

You get up in the morning and carefully wrap your sick infant girl. You hold her close as you make the long trek to what you hope will be place of healing for the little one. Thoughts of why, why, why invade your peace of mind as you walk. Why must she be born with a defective heart? Why must we be so poor? Why must I have to give her away? As you arrive at the spot that will become a record of history for your daughter, you kiss her tiny head and as the tears fall onto her perfectly sculpted face, you lay her on the soft grass outside the crumbling gate. Her whimper turns to a wail that lingers in your ears long after you are out of sight.

If you had to choose between keeping your daughter until her premature death or giving her up in the hopes that she would get the medical intervention she needs, which choice would you make? I know, impossible but women do it every day in China.

Two weeks ago a choice was made.

Now that 2–month-old child is fighting for her life in a Chinese hospital in Hunan. The orphanage has already deemed her as Failure To Thrive. Within the walls of the orphanage that means she will not receive much attention but instead be looked over in the attempt to tend to the healthiest children first. If she makes it through her hospital stay, her only chance of survival is foster care. The problem with that option is that for her to be in the Bamboo Baby foster care program at this orphanage, we need 3 sponsors to commit to $35 a month for her care.

Would anyone out there like to step forward to make a difference in her life? This is an urgent plea. We have other children waiting for sponsors, as well, but none in such a precarious predicament as this infant girl. We have asked for pictures but cannot obtain them until her hospital release. Times are hard—that is for sure, but we can’t forget about those who have it harder than we could ever imagine.

All sponsor donations are administered directly through Pearl River Outreach , [non-profit organization] and are tax deductible.

Happy Mother's Day

2009-05-10T05:35:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up at 7.15 am and cursed myself for not being able to sleep until at least 8.30. As I tossed and turned trying to force my way back into dreamland, I remembered it was Mother's Day. My next thought was -- oh surprise-- the kids at the orphanage. Most specifically the ones who will never know a mother in their lives.

I thought about Xiao Gou and I wondered if she still remembers her mother-- I know she did when I was there but is the woman now just a fading memory? I remember how she cried when she heard the ayis discussing the way her mother left her in the hospital. Her little heart broke again and again. I prayed for her and the hope that one day her circumstances will change and she will be able to be part of a family. I also hope that one day I will see her again and be able to tell her that I tried with all I had to help her. And though I told her repeatedly that I was not her mother, we couldn't help but bond and just like my own kids, I would have done anything for her.

I thought about little Squirt, the small infant boy who I was head over heels with and then had to come to grips with his death. I still remember the feel of his little body in my arms. It was like holding a small sack of bones! It has been a few years but his tiny face still lingers in my mind, his long eyelashes and impish sideways grin. How I loved to play with his long, slender fingers. I thank God that I was allowed to shower him with love for a few months of his very short life. I know that he felt my heart go out to him, he felt my need to nurture him. He felt a mother's love from me. To this day, I wonder how and why he died. It is so unfinished for me, was such a shock to come in and find his bed empty with no forewarning. I still cannot remember him without a lump in my throat or tears to my eyes.

Many times these days I wonder why God has gave me this burden-- this obsession, if you will-- of the children I left behind. Those I knew and those I do not know. Why can't I just get on with my life and concentrate on the here and now? Juggling this life and that one is exhausting and emotional! Why me? I am nobody. Seriously, I am such a nobody that it would shock all of you. But I cannot stop thinking of them, remembering them, hoping for them. And as I sit here pecking out this tirade, the tears that are falling remind me that just because they are no longer within arms reach, doesn't mean they no longer exist. They need me just as much or more now than they did before. They need you. They need for us to be their voices. To fight for their rights to live and to be respected. And for some, they need us to be their mothers.

In the orphanage, the ayis always referred to me to the children as "nide Meiguoran Mama"...[your American mother]...that used to bother me because I didn't want the children to be confused by that title, in case they did finally get to know the love of a real mother-- but now, sitting here and not having the ability to go to them and be there, I realize to be called their Meiguoren Mama was an honor, no matter how fleeting. And perhaps that is why I can't just walk away and get on with my life-- for they are more than just children in an orphanage to me-- they are children who need a mother.

Happy Mother's Day.

K

Bring Them Home!

2009-05-03T14:40:00.000-07:00

What an amazing goal...... you have to read the story of Chloe and the journey to bring her brothers home.

Chloe has known since we were in China that we were going to do everything we can for "the brothers." I don't think she believed it at the time, but she does now and she is THRILLED she has not lost them. I did not know at the time but when we visited the orphanage the last child we saw was hanging out the doorway yelling " bye, bye, bye" as loud as he could- IT WAS HER YOUNGER BROTHER! And when asked to buy anything she wanted in the store in China she bought gifts for her brothers.

Where Is It?

2009-04-28T16:55:00.000-07:00

What is something you have lost that you have never found, or were tremendously relieved when you did find it?

I'll go first... One time about 14 years ago, I was cleaning everything out of my closet. I came across a very small jewelry box of junk. I took one look at all the old, cheap costume-jewelry and tossed the whole blasted thing in the trash. I finished cleaning out more clutter and went to bed with that smug satisfaction of accomplishment that comes with the afterglow of an OCD session.

Some time in the middle of the night about three weeks later, I sat straight up in bed with the realization that my mother's wedding ring was in that box of "junk" that I threw out and was hauled off to the local trash center. I jumped out of bed in a panic, hoping beyond hope that I was wrong. I threw open drawers and searched through all of my jewelry and finally sat down in resignation.

It was gone.

Not only was I thinking of how upset I was that I would not be able to pass that ring on to my own daughter, I was thinking of how my twin sister was going to gloat.

For ten years before, that ring started a fairly long feud because as the oldest daughter [by 3 minutes], the ring was given to me and not her. She was very ticked off. To this day I have not told her the ring is gone. If I disappear from blogger-land, you will know she read this post. [have I mentioned lately how much I love my twin?]

Now, what have you lost?

A Real Hero

2009-04-20T05:00:00.000-07:00

I watched The Irena Sendler story last night and it was amazing. We should all know her name and what she did for the children. Later I found a few articles that tell more about her. See below:

See total story here

During the Holocaust, Irena Sendler worked for Zegota, a unit within the Polish underground established specifically to help Jews in hiding. As a health worker, she had access to the Warsaw Ghetto, and between 1942 and 1943 she led hundreds of Jewish children out of the Ghetto to safe hiding places. Irena Sendler, who wore a "star" armband as a sign of her solidarity to Jews, began smuggling children out in an ambulance. She recruited at least one person from each of the ten centers of the Social Welfare Department. With their help, she issued hundreds of false documents with forged signatures.

Irena Sendler successfully smuggled almost 2,500 Jewish children to safety and gave them temporary new identities. But the Germans became aware of Irena's activities, and on October 20, 1943 she was arrested and imprisoned by the Gestapo. Irena Sandler ended up in Pawiak Prison when the owner of one of her meeting places divulged her name while being tortured. But no one could break her spirit. Though she was the only one who knew the names and addresses of the families sheltering the Jewish children, she withstood torture, refusing to betray either her associates or any of the Jewish children in hiding.

Sentenced to death, Irena was saved at the last minute when Zegota members bribed one of the Germans to halt the execution. She escaped from prison but for the rest of the war she was pursued by the Gestapo.

The children had known her only by her code name Jolanta. But years later, after she was honored for her wartime work, her picture appeared in a newspaper. "A man, a painter, telephoned me," said Sendler" `I remember your face,' he said. `It was you who took me out of the ghetto.' I had many calls like that!" Irena Sendler did not think of herself as a hero. She claimed no credit for her actions. "I could have done more," she said. "This regret will follow me to my death." This lovely, courageous woman was one of the most dedicated and active workers in aiding Jews during the Nazi occupation. Now in her late 80s she lives in Warsaw. Her courage enabled not only the survival of hundreds of Jewish children but also of the generations of their descendants.

Sendler put lists of the children's names in jars and buried them in her garden so that someday she could find the children and tell them their real identities. The Nazis captured her and beat her, but the underground bribed a guard to let her go. After the war, she dug up the jars.

Stealing Babies?

2009-04-17T07:14:00.000-07:00

Another article to keep you well informed. I would love to know what you think of this.

Go Here.

Get Rid of Gotcha?

2009-04-10T18:23:00.000-07:00

Get Rid of "Gotcha"

by Karen Moline

I could hear the whine coming closer and closer, until I could stand it no longer.

"Gotcha!" I said in triumph. Another mosquito swatted to oblivion.

"Gotcha" is my typical response when I've squashed a bug, caught a ball just before it would have rolled under the sofa, or managed to reach a roll of toilet paper on the top shelf at the store.

It's a silly, slangy word.

As such, it's the last word I'd think to use if someone asked me to describe my feelings on the day, in a tiny orphanage off a dirt road outside of Da Nang, when I saw my child for the first time.

Read the rest of the article here and then come back and comment to tell me what do you call that special day?

Update on Silent Tears SWI

2009-04-07T01:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Kay,

Hello, I hope this email is finding you well. I mentioned to you a few weeks ago that after reading your book, I immediately called my friend to volunteer at the orphanage. Your book was truly an inspiration and volunteering has changed my life! I think you will be interested to know all of the changes that have occurred since you left the orphanage.

First of all, five volunteers are allowed per shift. We now have a grand total of fifty volunteers with a waiting list.

Also, the babies in walkers are no longer tied to the wall. I have been surprised many times when I’m interacting with a baby in the crib area and almost trip over one of the children who has rolled over behind me.

The ayis, however, are the biggest change from what is reported in your book. I have seen them burp babies, hug and kiss babies and even give physical therapy to a cerebral palsy child. There was just another ayi and me in the baby room once, and the ayi stood over one of the crying infants and sang to her while I sang to another very sick preemie. The ayis are developing attachments to at least a couple of the children, one little girl will only allow a specific ayi to feed her and clings to her sometimes when we talk to her. This little girl is very sick with a heart condition and it makes me happy to know that they are not considering her an “undesirable” and unworthy of love. I believe that their opinion of the children has changed somewhat.

I think you will be happy to know that I have heard that Xiao Gou is attending public school. From what I’ve been told, the transition was difficult but she is sticking with it. I have never met Xiao Gou but I wonder if she is aware of the impact she is making on the rights of handicapped children all over China.

There are still a lot of changes that need to be made within the orphanage. It is far from perfect. For days after my shift, I often feel powerless and wonder if I’m doing any good. However, the transformation that has occurred since you first stepped foot into the orphanage is significant.

Thank you for writing your book, Kay. I hope the quality of life for orphans all over the world changes because of it.

Sincerely,
C

From Kay:
Clearly the improvements continue to mount at the SWI I worked in. This makes me very proud-- not of myself but of the volunteers who strive to keep making a difference. Yes, after 4 years I'll admit that my spirit felt stomped on and damaged beyond repair. I left China torn between the need for normalcy and my passion for advocating. I also had to make a choice between my own daughter who so desperately needed her mother and the many children I felt obligated to protect. An easy choice? No way-- I still agonize every day if I made the right one or not, but I don't regret returning to put my daughter at the top of the list for once. Though I will say, "Thank God that more strong women came after me to keep their eyes on the finish line."

Will the Chinese ever be able to run a SWI humanely without foreign interference? I personally don't think so. Even the "model" institutions are model because they cater to touring dignitaries and/or foreigners on a regular basis. Until they change their behavaviors "for the love of their children"...it will never stick. That is my own personal opinion-- everyone is free to comment on their thoughts. I enjoy your input, from all perspectives.

Bratt's Bamboo Babies

2009-03-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

Meet the two Bamboo Babies we sponsor--

Olivia and Phoebe.

Yes, during this time of uncertainty and recession, it is a stretch for us but it is so important for me to be able to pass the love of China's children on to my last child at home. I don't want her growing up in a bubble of American luxury without any thought to what is happening in the world. I don't overwhelm her with details, but I do let her know that there are children out there who do not have a voice. Children who are at the mercy of a sometimes uncaring government, and that with a little bit of support, we can do a tiny little part in making little lives more comfortable.

My daughter, Amanda, knows the hardship of the orphanage. She has roamed the halls with me during the coldest months and asked me, "Mama, how do the children stand it in here?" To her, the frigid indoor temperatures were more than she could fathom. Other questions she had were "How do they sleep in all those clothes?" "How do they go to the bathroom with so many layers of pants?" and "Why do they look so sad?" All the things we probably wonder ourselves, right?

So, for our house--it is important that for only $35 a month each, we can keep a few children out of the institute and place them with a foster family. And if we have to cut out a few dinners on the town each month--it is worth it. For I have seen the difference a few weeks or months living in a foster home can have on a child. It is amazing to see their little personlities emerging with the gift of nurturing, warmth, and a full belly.

My readers and Mifan Mommies have done so much to help me in my mission to advocate for the children of China. I thank each and every one of you-- even for just linking to me, following me, reading my rants and especially for your commitment to the Bamboo Babies Program and/or the Mifan Mommy Club. And if you are not sponsoring a child for foster care and you want to, please go here for more details and pictures of children who are waiting for sponsors. And P.S...Amanda says Phoebe is hers--- it must be the pigtails!

Would You Wear These Shoes?

2009-03-13T06:00:00.000-07:00

What do these outrageously sexy shoes make you think of?

My first and foremost thought was I’d never wear them in a million years. Why? Not because I don’t like them…I think they are awesome….more due to the fact that they just don’t fit the profile of The Me I have molded over the years.

Here are a few scattering thoughts as I stare at the picture of these fabulous shoes:

1. I wish they fit my personality—just for a day—but they don’t and as Popeye would say, “I Am What I Yam…”

2. They make me think about the sad reality that I never went to a school dance or prom

3. I am too tall to wear high heels and no, they would not make me look like a model I would just look like an Amazon dork

4. My husband would probably like me to wear these just once for about an hour, but Oh…that fantasy will never happen

5. If I wore them, I’d also need to learn how to giggle which I never do and these shoes absolutely go with a giggly girl and I don’t giggle and giggly grown-up women get on my nerves

6. They’d look cool with a pair of jeans and that is one compliment I can claim, that I can still wear jeans from the teen department

7. I love the interior pattern of these rockin’ shoes!

8. My big size 8.5's would never go in them and I’d look like Cinderella’s wicked stepsister trying to squeeze my gangly feet into them

9. I should have more pure hot-pink-fun moments in my life

10. My little sister would wear these and look great in them but then again, she IS a foot shorter than me and only 30 years old

11. I am aging too fast and have not yet met all my goals

12. I never went to a high school or college football game and I don’t know why the shoes make me think of that and don’t know why I even care

13. I want to do something unpredictable before it’s too late!

14. If I forced myself to wear them I would be in agony the next day because my fms does not like uncomfy shoes

15. The shoes could very well double as a weapon in a pinch

16. I don’t own a single fashion item that is pink and I don’t want to

17. They might scratch my hardwood floors and that would totally freak me out

18. If I wore them, I’d need to carry around a Cosmopolitan cocktail to complete the look …and I have been known to drink a few eight of those in one evening—okay, it happened once. No more details on that and I’d rather be snuggled up with a good book than at a party any day

19. Who wears this stuff in real life? [besides Gwen Stefani]

20. A Sex In The City commercial just popped through my head

21. I daydream too much and it’s time to do something more productive which is what I am wired to do and will continue to do until I drop from exhaustion which might be any day now and I might even welcome the respite

22. I wish I was 21 again—thought of that cuz I am on #22—and actually, no I don’t because 21 was a hard time for me and now my life is just peaches [Sort of. Glass half full answer]

Would YOU wear the shoes? Be honest…

Eeek! We lose an hour of precious sleep!

2009-03-06T06:17:00.000-08:00

"Only a white man would believe that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket and sew it to the bottom of a blanket and have a longer blanket." by unknown author

And I I I will Alllllwayyyys Looove You oo oo

2009-03-03T16:39:00.000-08:00

I don't talk much about my other daughter. For one thing, she doesn't live with me any longer. For another thing, she'd get mad at me if I wrote about her which is why I am hoping she doesn't read this post. She probably doesn't even know I have a blog-- she barely realizes I wrote a book and she sure as heck would be surprised to know anyone but my mother read it. That being said.....

Heather is my oldest daughter. I had her at age 20 when I was married to her father, my practice husband. I call Heather my storm; as she has always rebelled at everything I've ever tried to do as a mother. That doesn't mean she is a bad kid or that I don't love her. I love her with every fiber of my being--which makes it even more puzzling that we always seem to be playing tug-of-war in every conversation. I remember when I took her to speak to a couselor at age 11; he told me that she was extremely intelligent and was playing me. Duh. He also said she had a "Bill Gates" personality type and would either be extremely successful and powerful---or be a bully. Wow. That stuck with me all these years. I think she'll be option one but at this point in her life, she has to make it on her own because she refuses any help from me. Heather is a young mother [making me a young grandmother] but that is another story of the crumbling of family pride and lessons learned--a story for another day.

But.

I love my rebel daughter dearly.

This morning a song came on the radio while I was on my way to work, being very serious and trying to avoid Black Ice from our Southern' blizzard. The song triggered a memory that washed over me and made me do a belly laugh out loud. I have to share.

A few years ago we spent a week at the beach in what is sort of a family campground but with houses too. You know the ones.....everyone drives a golf cart everywhere and the kids run wild... well, Heather and her friend that came with us had a 9 pm curfew each night. They were loving all the freedom and I'm sure had met several boys and that curfew was really cramping their style. One night Heather called from her cell phone that she was too far away from the house to get there in the 5 minutes before her curfew rang. I told her even if she had to sprout wings from her skinny little butt, she still better be there at 9 pm sharp. [with Heather you can't give in once or you will never get a leg up again]

So she made it and the next day we went to lunch at Wendy's-- just me and all the girls after we had pedicures. Heather was on me the whole day about extending her curfew for the last few nights and as we sat down in the dining area, Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You came on over the overhead radio. I looked at Heather, my poor child who could never carry a tune in a bucket, and told her, "If you STAND up in this dining room and SING that song at the top of your lungs, you can stay out an extra hour tonight."

She looked at her friend and the girl egged her on, "C'mon Heather! Another whole hour! Do it!"

I never thought she'd really do it but that kid stood up and in the worst singing voice ever, started belting out "And I I I, Will Alwaysssss Lovvvveeee You-ew-ew...." I choked on my burger and the man at the table next to us lowered the newspaper he was reading and with eyebrows raised, looked on with quite a funny look on his face...

Heather stopped and I told her, "Nope...gotta sing the whole song.." By this time, I had tears streaming down my face from laughter. The table of boys on the other side were busting a gut, Heather's friend was almost hysterical....we had the whole dining room in an uproar. Heather, my stubborn child, finished the song and should've won an "America's Worst Singer" award but she got to stay out one hour later. I never go back on my promises.

And if she should happen to read this, I hope she knows that I Will Always Love Her.

Meet Our First Monday Mifan Mommy!

2009-02-22T04:01:00.000-08:00

Kay: Our first Monday Mifan Mommy is Rebecca who can be found at http://www.ourfamilyjournal.com/

Kay: Rebecca, what is you connection to China; why did you become a Mifan Mommy?

Rebecca says: China has always had a special place in my heart – since childhood I’ve been drawn to the country, the people and the culture. China is also the birthplace of our 5th child, Owen, who came home to us in January of 2009.
God has given me a deep, abiding burden for the orphans of China that compels me to help in whatever ways I’m able. The Mifan Mommy Club is just one small but very powerful way that my family can make a difference in the lives of these children. I love this quote by Edward Hale: “I am only one; but still, I am one. I cannot do everything; but still, I can do something. And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.”

Kay: How many children do you have?

Rebecca: We have 5 children – 3 girls age 10, 8 and 6, and 2 boys age 3 and 2. Our 3 year old son is adopted and the others are biological.

Kay: Are you a stay-at-home Mom or a work-outside-the-home Mom?

Rebecca: I am a stay-home mom at present.

Kay: If you are an AP of a child from China, when did you adopt?

Rebecca: We first met our son Owen on a special needs listing in February of 2008. We traveled in January 2009 to bring him home.

Kay: What has been the hardest thing about the adoption or process?

Rebecca: There are things about adoption that feel very difficult when you are going through them. Paperwork was hard. Waiting those 11 months to travel was hard. In retrospect, those things seem like a drop in the bucket compared to the lifetime we now have with our son! Perspective has a way of changing things. Presently, I feel the hardest part of adoption has been the adjustments for me and my family after coming home. There are many aspects of “re-entry” that I didn’t feel prepared for, and I am still working through those complex issues.

Kay: Do you remember the moment that you knew it was all worth it?

Rebecca: For me, it was when we were in China. The moment that I first saw Owen’s face – and not in a picture, his real, beautiful little face as he walked into the room – he looked straight at me, and I was overcome with a sense of completeness, of accomplishment and joy and peace. After almost 2 years of paperwork and waiting, there he was walking towards me, the son of my heart, and HE was worth it.

Kay: Was your Gotcha week difficult or easy?

Rebecca: Gotcha week was difficult for me. Owen was not particularly difficult – he did have some behavioral issues, which we expected, but the difficulty was ME. I dealt with feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, fear and depression – and I missed my home and my familiar life. I will always remember that week because of the conflict of emotions I felt.

Kay: What stands out in your mind about the culture of China you witnessed?

Rebecca:There were many things about Chinese culture that made a deep impression on me. One thing that stood out was how emotionally reserved the Chinese people are… sometimes they are hard to read, because they don’t really show their feelings the way Americans do.

Kay: What is the hardest thing you do as a Mom?

Rebecca: Tough love. I want my children to like me and I want to be their friend – but more, I want to be a good parent, and I want them to grow up to be loving, caring, and responsible people. Sometimes that requires saying no, or crossing their will. I don’t like doing it, but I know that if I really love my kids, I need to.

Kay: What do you like to do on the weekends?

Rebecca: My favorite weekends are summer weekends. We love to go on family bike rides, play at the park, go to the lake, grill out, walk to the ice cream shop… all simple things but they create such wonderful memories.

Kay: What do your favorite pajamas look like?

Rebecca: I’ll just admit it: my favorite jammies look like men’s pajamas. J They are blue and white pinstripe and SO comfy!

Kay: What other organization do you believe in or support?

Rebecca: We financially support The Philip Hayden Foundation, Love Without Boundaries, and Caring For China. I also admire the work of Half the Sky and the Starfish Foster Home.

Kay: If your husband was describing your personality to someone, what would he say?

Rebecca: He would probably say that I am too much of a perfectionist. J I also re-invent myself constantly. That can be a curse sometimes. My husband would say that I am very devoted to my family, loyal to the ones I love, and a generous person.

Kay: Tell us about a unique or quirky habit of yours.

Rebecca: I like to change up the colors & décor in my house every 2 years. My husband thinks there is something wrong with me. It’s part of the re-inventing I guess, but Andy complains it’s an expensive personality trait!

Kay: What is your most popular “I am feeling sorry for myself” snack?

Rebecca: Lindt Lindor balls with a cup of coffee & cream.

Kay:What is the song that brings back the best memory for you?

Rebecca: I didn’t really have a “special song” growing up, but there are 2 songs I like that have some strong memories attached. One is Corinne Bailey Rae’s “Put Your Records On” because my girls love it, and we all sing it at the top of our lungs whenever it comes on in the car. I also love the Josh Groban song “You Are Loved”. To me, it speaks volumes about the love God has for me, and the love that I want to have for my family and for others.

Kay: Who is your hero?

Rebecca: I have many heroes… friends who inspire me, family members who continue to influence me… it would be too hard to narrow it down to 1 person! To me, heroes are real, everyday people who make a difference in the lives of others. That is how I want to live.

Kay: What is one goal you’d like to accomplish during your lifetime?

Rebecca: I would like to write a book – either allegorical fiction, or some type of memoir, or maybe a book about our adoption experience. I’d want it to be a book that would help other people in some way.

That concludes our interview with Mifan Mommy Rebecca. Don’t forget to stop by and see who is next Mondays’ Mifan Mommy!

What's On Your Nightstand?

2009-02-21T07:46:00.000-08:00

You can tell me yours in a minute. But first, me.

Lamp; I looked everywhere for just the right lamp and finally found it at Target! It has a very slim base but the shade is chic with it's fringe around the diameter.

My digital alarm clock that wakes me up every morning at 6 am sharp to His Radio.

My Amazon Kindle; electronic book reader that is awesome! I only have a few books on it and they are....Sail by James Patterson, Being Elizabeth by Barbara Taylor Bradford, Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and of course, Silent Tears by Kay Bratt! [i wanted to see what it looked like in Kindle form so I ordered it....really shallow of me but you know you would have done it too!]

A really good candle by Tyler Candle Company with the aroma titled "Homecoming", smells sort of like spicey nutmeg. Love it.

What's IN my nightstand is another story....

A half-eaten bag of cherry-filled Hershey kisses that I sneak one or two of every night.

A never-worn-still-in-the-box China pearl drop necklace I am thinking of giving away as a Mifan Mommy prize.....

A beautiful lilac leather journal my mom gave me for my birthday last year that I have never written in but have intentions of doing one day.

A bottle of fingernail polish I never use because I like au-natural for nails. I keep them trimmed and clean and that is about it. [Actually, I love to get French manicures but I only do it about twice a year for a splurge]

A unopened small bag of Cheetos that my teenager brought me so that I wouldn't scold her for bringing her own Cheetos to my bed....and of which I'll probably never eat and that was her plan because next time she is watching tv from my bed, she'll already have her snack ready. Wow--kids are smart these days!

The keys to my safe [please don't break in here and try to get them, ha ha] but the only thing of value in the Chinese safe of which you'll never figure out the combination of is three sets of really nice white pearls for our daughters' weddings some day.

So What Is In Your Nightstand? Anything interesting? We all want to know so 'fess up! I am not tagging anyone because I am not the 'tagging type' but I'd still like to know so Comment!

You Got My Back, Right?

2009-02-16T15:59:00.000-08:00

Hi Future Mifan Mommies!

As I wrote in the post below, we are now ready to start the Mifan Mommy Club. So many of you emailed and commented [in post below] that you wanted to join up and I can't thank you enough for jumping on board to help us to feed the children of the Anhui Orphanage.

Now that I opened my big mouth and said, "Alright! We got almost every day covered each month because all my homies are joining up to donate $9 per month!" ....I have to back it up.

You got my back, right?

If so, go to the next page HERE and hit the Subscribe button on the sidebar to sign up.

Then email me or comment to let me know 1. You signed up 2. If you want your name or blog address listed as a member publicly

Did I say how glad I am that Ya'll Got My Back?

Do You Want to be in the Mifan Mommy Club?

2009-02-14T05:26:00.000-08:00

WE ARE READY!!!

Because of your generous response by comments and emails, we are now ready to start the Mifan Mommy Club.

Please go here to the Mifan Mommy Page of my blog and read the details. [Did I say thank you enough??!!]

Mifan Mommy Club

Please pray for the children of the Fu Yang Orphanage and their staff. The orphanage, located in Anhui, China, is in what was once a factory owned by Lao Wang. When he ceased trading as a factory and the building stood empty, Lao Wang started taking in unwanted children of all ages. Being a parent of a disabled child, he could not understand how people could abandon their own children. So along with his wife he started to look after these children with no families and no homes.

Many of the more-than-200 children are healthy but just have nowhere to go. The children are split into small ‘families’ of 5-6 with a room mama or baba to oversee their care. Some are physically challenged, some mentally challenged-- but all have found a home with lots of love with Lao Wang, his wife and their team. Lao Wang’s own quarters within the walls of the factory consist of a very modest room with only a bed and TV. Because he is not supported by the government as a public welfare system, they do not even have the income it takes to eat rice daily—and must save it for a special treat a few times a month. The rest of the days they eat a sort of broth. This is so sad, considering it would only cost 72.5 rmb [$9] to feed all of them for one meal.

One of the ladies I worked with in China has started to try to raise funds to provide rice for this orphanage. In another of my detailed ‘dreams’ after her email to me, I had the thought that I could post a button on my blog for sponsors to donate to help ‘buy a meal’ each month. This would be called the “Mifan Mommy Club” – as Mifan [mee-fon] means rice in Mandarin. I don’t want to go to all the work of pulling this together and figuring out all the technical issues, opening a new bank account strictly for this, etc….if it is not something that would go over well with my readers. So let’s do this, please comment if you think you would want to become a Mifan Mommy and would be able to donate $9 a month to feed the whole orphanage one meal a month.

Based on the comments, I will make a decision whether to move forward. Also—if you do become a Mifan Mommy, I will put your name in a special spot on my blog and you will be able to see pictures and read updates about the kids at that orphanage. So what about it?

P.S. Please pray that I will have sponsors come forward to support this project, which I feel is a direct answer to my prayers to God to bring me a new endeavor to quiet my restless spirit and ease my longing to return to my work in China.

My Day so far on Friday the 13th

2009-02-13T07:42:00.000-08:00

Left home late for work
Sat in a long line at Chic Fil A
Almost ran over a chipmunk
Almost hit a bird
Forgot my Blackberry
Got caught behind two semi trucks on interstate
Opened office door to a catastrophe.
Ceiling collapsed.
All computer equipment drenched.
All desktop files drenched.
$40 remote control heater drenched.
All my favorites are gone from my internet folder.
My contact list is wiped out from my Outlook.

And the most terrible thing of all…..

My Isotoner slippers that were strategically hidden under my desk to give daily comfort to my achy feet are ruined! And it is not even noon yet. I am afraid. Very afraid. [said while hilariously laughing like an insane hobbit with a straight jacket on….]

Things I learned Never to do Again...

2009-02-11T13:37:00.000-08:00

Never walk away from the cell phone office with new phones without double and triple checking you know what your package is and see it in writing.

Never believe the cell phone salesman when he tells you that it is only 9.99 per month for your daughter to have unlimited internet.

Never walk away from the cell phone office without asking them to block your teenager’s internet access on her new cell phone.

Never walk away from the cell phone office with a smug smile on your face thinking you just got a great deal.

Never go a whole freakin' month without checking the internet usage on your teenager’s cell phone and how much the bill has accumulated to.

Never come home exhausted with the simple plan of a quick bite, long bath and early bedtime and then mistakenly stop to open the new cell phone bill.

Never be standing up when you open the new cell phone bill to the shocking amount of almost $1000 for one month.

Never lose your temper with the unfriendly, unhelpful customer service rep from the call center of the new cell phone company.

Never take for granted the respect a human should get when they are close to tears from frustration and shock.

Never threaten to sue for fraud and misrepresentation by the cell phone salesman.

Never twiddle your thumbs and bite your nails for 72 hours while they consider your case.

Never not sigh in relief when you see the text message that says the case has been approved in your favor and your bill is back down to a manageable $100 for the month!!!

PMS or Just Sick Of China

2009-02-04T19:47:00.000-08:00

Another fun repost from when I was in China. I know I sound like a witch..but sometimes life overseas can really get under your skin. Read on....

PMS or Just Sick of China?

I went to pick up a friend today at an expat apartment complex. This complex, like all the others here in the city is walled and guarded by ridiculously young Chinese fellows that can’t weigh any more than a popcorn fart. I respect that they are out here trying to make a living for their families, but at times the power goes to their heads...

As I walked up to the gate, Security Guard #1, who we’ll call Mutt, stepped in front of me. He babbles a bunch of unintelligible Chinese at me (which was in no way, shape or form Mandarin) and gives me a stern look. I know he is asking me who I am and where I want to go.

As I am being held hostage by Mutt, a few locals breeze right thru the gate without a second glance coming their way. I know the Mutt saw them. He knows I know he saw them. Big deal. We are the scary people, I guess. (all 120 lbs of me..) What should have been a quick walk through the gate and up to the correct building quickly turns into Drama Skit Take One.

So Mutt goes into the guard shack and confers with the other goofball that looks like he is wearing his daddy’s army fatigues. (Three sizes too big and way too hot for them today) They make me stand there while they call the office. Mutt and Jethro together dial the phone, say a few words and and then they hand it to me.

Small timid female voice says, “Ech Cuse me, you where want to go?”

In my most-calm-dealing-with-a-innocent-victim-voice, I say, “I am going to visit a friend in apartment #888 and by the way, why can’t you hire people that can speak English to stand at the gate?” (I mean heck, they hire English speakers at Pizza Inn.....why not a foreign compound where English is supposed to be the common language?)

She speaks some Chinese and I stubbornly pretend that I do not understand her. She tries again in English...

“Oh. Ech Cuse me. You like to come to office?”

Me, still in a very calm and slow voice that is simmering with impatience, “No I would not. I-am-going-to-see-my-friend-in-apartment-#888.” Click. I put down the phone. Patience gone. Zip.

I stomp out of the shack and keep walking towards my friends building. Jethro in fatigues calls out to me and I steadfastly ignore him. I figure, what’s he going to do? Shoot me? Tackle me? Bring it on, buddy, I am ready to rumble...

He catches up with me and jumps in front of me to appear to escort me to the apartment building, through the doors, up to the appropriate floor and in front of my friend’s door. (I was going with or without him at that point)

In the elevator on the way up, I decided to quit ignoring him and turned to say,

“Weishenme ni gonzuo waiguoran de gongsi, danshi ni bu keyi shuo Yingwen?” (Why do you work for a foreign company but cannot speak English?)

His eyes widened in amazement and he pretends to find fault with the blank wall to his right as the elevator ride suddenly gets all that much longer.....

Okay..Okay…so maybe Jethro and Mutt got to see an American with PMS. I already stated for the record that I have been in China way too long!

Another dream....

2009-01-31T16:29:00.001-08:00

I had dream last night that has stayed with me all day...

I dreamed I was back in China. I was close to the orphanage but instead of it being located nestled back in the crowded city streets, like it was in real life, it was perched on the side of a rocky cliff. I had a woman with me, I am not sure who she was. It was a hot, humid summer like those I remember that made me hurry home to the cool air-conditioning---yet a storm was brewing on the horizon. I was wearing flimsy flip-flops and was disgusted with myself for being so stupid in my choice of shoes. Up and up we climbed, stumbled and sweated until we finally reached a place where we were on a high wall overlooking the busy courtyard of children. I watched boys and girls running around everywhere but could not spot Xiao Gou in the crowd. The woman with me was tired and ready to go back to our hotel [not my house] but I pleaded with her to just help me find Xiao Gou and then we could leave. We attempted to find a place that would allow us to slip in but the wall had no openings and it was impossible to jump from. I went around and around and exhausted myself, even in my sleep, as I unsuccessfully searched and searched for a way to get in and get to my girl. My heart was aching and the sadness I felt was over-whelming as I realized that I would not be able to see her, talk to her or hold her. I was muddy from head to toe, and I finally gave up. We climbed back down the mountain and flagged a taxi but between us didn't have enough money for the fare. The woman went one way and I went the other, walking down a long winding road--alone, depressed and defeated. My broken spirit welcoming the impending storm....

I woke up in pain from my head to my toes. I guess I was so tense in my dream that it affected my whole body. I also woke up sad-- which has become quite repetitive lately. It has been a year and a half since we left China and I still feel like I am searching for something that I cannot find. I don 't feel like this is home. It feels so temporary, but it's not.

I have a busy life.

A life full of blessings.

But why do I still feel like I am waiting on a train that never pulls into the station? I am always on my toes looking for something....what? I think to myself, is this all there is?

Funk doesn't begin to describe what I am in lately.

And I don't want to be in it.

Things have got to change.

New Penalities for One Child Policy

2009-01-29T16:15:00.000-08:00

China Raises Penalities Again

[Click hyperlink to read whole story]

Beijing, China (LifeNews.com) -- Chinese officials have followed through on their earlier promise to raise the fines for couples who violate the one-child population control policy. Poorer residents who are subject to human rights abuses have long complained that rich Chinese couples can pay fines and avoid governmental harassment.

Now, the Chinese government has raised those fines to discourage more families from having a second child, which violates the one-child rule that has earned the Asian nation condemnation from around the world.

Deng Xingzhou, director of Beijing’s family planning commission, said the new rules were aimed at correcting that wealth disparity.

Currently, couples must pay a fine that amounts to three to eight times their annual salary and that amount will increase although the government didn't appear to release official figures.
The increased fines also come as the nation's capital, Beijing, has experienced a rise in its population due to the influx of migrant workers from the coast. The city has a population of 17 million, well over the 10-11 million who live in New York City, the largest American city.
Heavy fines have also been customary for poorer Chinese residents and Chinese population control officials will fine the Chinese people for violations to such a heavy price that they may not be able to afford it.

Some of the citizens of Bobai county in the southwestern portion of China protested in 2007 and said fines were instituted even on people who had already paid them. Forced abortions were done on some of the women. Police eventually arrested 28 people in association with the riots, according to official Chinese media sources.

Similar high fine initiatives have been adopted in Henan and Zhejiang provinces where the incidence of female infanticides is at their highest because of the cultural preference for boys.
The policy has resulted in epidemics of forced abortions and sterilizations and human rights abuses ranging from job loss and imprisonment to house arrest and threatening family members.

Insomnia Makes for Entertaining [or not] posts.....

2009-01-24T00:21:00.000-08:00

6 am-- clock goes off and I am up and running

[something strange today....I woke up with both ears ringing and my hearing muffled. Wobbly on my feet with some sort of balance problem]

6.50 am---my face is on, the dog is fed [after a debate on which one of us has to trick her out into the backyard with a bowl of food so we can leave her there. I lose and am the bad guy once again for the 5th morning in a row. I shut the door to the sounds of me pleading with an 86-lb dog to 'not be sad....we'd be home soon." Yeah, in about 10 hours, sucker...] and I am out the door

7,15 am-- first stop of junior high drop-off of a grumpy teenager who is probably only the 3rd child to arrive already [I've been teaching her punctuality since she was 10]

7.30 am --arrive to work [I am the 3rd employee to arrive out of probably 70 more to come a half our later...must be a sickness]

7.35 am--hubby calls from the road, he has been traveling all week and will be home around noon and wants to take me to lunch. "Sure...but I'm not feeling good," I tell him but am secretly happy that he chooses to see me instead of crashing after his long trip.

8 am--Jump full throttle into work. Emails, setting up appointments, adjusting spreadsheets, calling references for pending candidates, listen to fellow employees as they vent [with my muffled hearing, this proved a test in lip-reading on a few occasions as I had a couple of hush-hush conversations. The insanely loud ringing in my left ear kept my concentration level at it's lowest but I muddled through]

11.30 am-- Hubby picks me up and we head on over to The Monsoon Noodle House for a lunch that will have you begging for a fire extinguisher. I couldn't eat much because of my ear and balance issue. After a few minutes of intense questioning and alarming my husband while describing to him my latest symptom of the feeling of a butterfly flapping it's wings under the skin of my skull in one repeated spot, he insisted I go to the doctor RIGHT NOW. [he was thinking aneurism..and you thought I was the dramatic one]

12.30 -After calling the boss lady to inform her my lunch hour was going to be a little bit extended, we headed over to Doc In The Box and signed in.

1.00 pm--Left Urgent Care with a toradol shot in one hip, a cortizone shot in the other [double OUCH] three prescriptions, a note to get out of work and go straight to bed [Yeah right...and what world is he living in?] and an order to get a jaw splint for my tmj immediately.

1.30--Back to work. Hearing still muffled, ears ringing, vertigo trippin' and wishing I was home in the bed.

2.00 pm-- call from realtor smashing my dream of going straight to bed and sleeping in on Saturday. For the first time in FIVE MONTHS, they want to show the house. Great timing.

2.30-5.00 pm---more emails, spreadsheets, survey analysis, blah blah blah to get through the afternoon.

5.30 pm-- Arrive home, start the marathon cleaning session that my rockin' husband has already got a jump on. Bathrooms to be cleaned, floors to be mopped, closets to be straightened.

7.00 pm--teenager growing fangs and sprouting claws because of hunger. Her night to choose dinner for reward of an awesome report card. Take a break and eat Italian, have hilarious interchange:

Goes Like This:

Me: "How much is the bill?"

Hubby: $43

Me: "Oh, he was a good waiter, give him 15% tip." [he was cute as a button, too...so if I'd have said 20%.....hubby would wonder what my motive was....]

Hubby: "Who wants to calculate that?" [trick question....he knows math is not our forte]

Me: "Easy. 20% of $43 is say...$8.00....add another $4 for 5% and the tip is around $12."

Hubby: "Uh....no...." [Oh right...I was supposed to be calculating 15%...I don't even know if that would have been right....?]

Me and Manda pull out our PDA's and start calculating--[she doesn't really have a PDA..but she does have a calculator!]--then I see it printed on the receipt at the bottom already and it sure wasn't $12. I do have an excuse. I can't hear and that affects all of my senses including Common Sense.

After much laughter and then an embarrassing mishap of my tripping outside and a stranger attemping to catch my fall, I try to regain my dignity and we leave and go by Lowes for some new plants for the back patio.

Pulling in, I look through the garden center enclosure and don't see flowers/plants.

Me: "Nevermind....I am not going in. I don't see anything and I am too exhausted to go in for nothing." [I know I have a million more things to do at home and I am trying to prioritize...]

Hubby: "Good. I am tired, too." He heads for the parking lot exit and on our way past the glass doors, I see plants.

Me: "Wait. I see some. Let's go in."

Hubby: "Grrr..." but pulls around to go back to the parking spaces.

Me: "Oh....it's too cold for flowers. Let's just go home."

Hubby: "O....kay...." Heads for the exit one more time.

Me: "Wait!!! Let me just run in for a minute. We really need some life on the patio."

Hubby screeches to a stop in front of Lowes and makes me exit the car immediately. [he just has no sympathy that I am running on fumes and that makes me just a wee bit crazy and unsure] I quickly go in, make my purchase and am out in 10 minutes. Record time happens when you fear for your life.

8 pm--Left ear is beyond pain and into agony. Head is swimming and I hurt everywhere. Back home and start the second floor maintenance check. Hmmmm....all looking good until I get to teenager's closet. MUST-STRAIGHTEN-CLOSET while listening to mumbles of how OCD I am. Too bad....my OCD might sell the house. [did I mention I already hit the pantry and spent 20 minutes lining up jars and boxes in size and content order? Wow....it looks awesome and I've gone back for a peek of happiness a few times. I love order, even when my feet are fighting for the medal of "most achy body part".]

9 pm--all is done as well as can be until morning when finishing touches will be added. [good smelling candles, all doggie toys hidden, plants put out on patio--don't want them to freeze tonight]

9.30-- over FIFTEEN (15) hours after my feet hit the floor at 90 mph, I lie across the bed and open my computer for a few short emails. My family is relieved because they know I am Kaput which means no more tasks for them to complete. I am tired, my ears along with every other fiber of my being is in pain. Big mistake because after a few minutes of stretching out...I can't move another muscle. My hot shower will have to wait until morning. Eewwww...gross and totally unlike me but who really cares....in the scheme of things??

I sleep like the dead until 1.30 am when Lexi decides she needs to go outside to potty. I let her out and then slip into the dreaded insomnia which is why I am writing this email at 4 am. I was tired of multi-tasking in my brain which is my version of counting sheep [for two hours] and got up to entertain myself with thoughts of my crazy day.

That's all, folks. I'll probably delete this in the morning after I return to sanity and read it to realize that I should not spread my craziness around the world. But first I must take my shower, give the floors a quick mop again, light my candles and put the rest of the finishing touches on the house.....evacuate by 10.30 with the dog, go get my prescriptions filled......so I am not sure what time I'll get to that delete button. So enjoy, you early blogger readers!!

[but if I have comments then it'll stay because that would mean that I had partners in the world of chaos and I would want to represent them well...]

Give Me Your Eyes

2009-01-22T15:27:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I heard a song on the radio that immediately spoke to me. The words sent a shiver through my senses and brought tears to my eyes. It is a song speaking to God to ask him to “give me your eyes so I can see…..your heart for humanity….” And especially this line…..“Give me your arms for the broken-hearted, the ones that are far beyond my reach…” [Uh….China….??]

They didn’t announce the artist or title, so I went in to work and asked our onsite music guru. I was humming him the tune and then repeating the few words I remembered. He didn’t know what the blazes I was talking about.

So a few weeks later I stayed home while Ben and Amanda went to church without me. Our church has a contemporary Christian praise group and this particular Sunday the guitar player performed a song that just blew the socks off of Amanda and Ben. I asked them what it was and Amanda repeated some of the same words I knew to be the song I had heard.

“That’s MY song…” I told her. She gave me that teenager look of disdain and walked away.

Fast forward to this Tuesday morning on the way to work when I flipped stations just in time to hear the end of the song –but again too late to get the title. All day at work and all night at home, even in my SLEEP….I was hearing this song! I got to work and turned on my Slacker.com on my computer, changed it to Christian Contemporary and that was the song playing! I kid you not! Good for me that it shows the title/artist at the top. I wrote it on a Post It, and stuck it to my desk so that I could go find it on my lunch hour. I forgot and it stayed there when I left for work that night.

Give Me Your Eyes by Brandon Heath

The next morning, [yesterday] here at work, one of our guys presented our weekly devotions and spoke about his life journey and his need to open up and “see people” in his life that need help or just a friendly gesture once in awhile. At the end of his presentation, he played a video and you guessed it! My song!

Give Me Your Eyes by Brandon Heath

I was once again overwhelmed by the story of the song. Why does this song speak to me so deeply? I really feel like I already “see” the needs in the world—too much for my own good and my family’s financial abilities at times. But something about this song just wouldn’t go away. All day it was in my head and as I climbed in my car at 5:ish to head home, guess what was playing? [I know…this is getting outrageous…] I was happy to be able to hear it in it’s almost entirety and I loved it even more.

I went to bed with it in my head again and at 6am this morning when my clock radio went off, guess what song I woke up to?

Give Me Your Eyes by Brandon Heath

I am going to buy the CD today. Then maybe Brandon will quit stalking me and I can figure out the message that is speaking to my heart. Though if you listen to the words, it is obvious what it is trying to tell me. Do More. Do More. Do More.

Now I have to figure out what is next.

Give Me Your Eyes [Listen Here]

Watch this and dare to follow his lead. Do something. Anything. Tell me what you think of it!!

Man, I love this song.

Letting Go

2009-01-17T17:21:00.000-08:00

In 24 hours I went from over-protective-obsessive mom to brave-trusting-letting go mom to freaked out-dramatic-worried mom to just it’s almost-over-and-I’ll-have-her-home-soon-mom.

Let me explain.

Our baby, Amanda, is thirteen. But she isn’t just any thirteen—she is a little sheltered than most. After spending almost five years in China, immersed in an international school and only roaming a protective housing area swarming with young Chinese guards, I guess you could say that we haven’t felt like it an appropriate time to give her lots of freedom. She doesn’t “hang out” at the mall, or do overnights…though she can have them at our house and we do take her to the movies with us frequently. [Well supervised by sitting right next to us..ha ha] I just don't want her to get caught up in peer pressure or bad crowds---so I am a self-confessed over-protective mom.

But recently she has been having an online friendship with a really unique girl named Rebecca. They have had so much fun talking, texting, reading each other’s book drafts [they are both writing fiction novels] and sending each other utube video’s and gifts. Oh, don't freak out..they weren’t complete strangers, for they had met at summer camp three years ago. They had not seen or heard from each other since—but somehow found each other online.

After several weeks of this online friendship, I offered to take Amanda to see Rebecca to determine if they clicked as well in person. But first, I had to do some sleuthing without being too obvious. Some of the preliminary questions I asked Amanda over a week’s time were:

What religion are these people? She answered Epi-Scop-Al. Which I am guessing correctly pronounced would be Episcopal.

Does Rebecca have any older brothers? A yes to that question would have eliminated all further questioning because my daughter wouldn’t be staying there with teenage boys in the next room.

Where do her parents work? I know….sounds snobby but you can determine a lot from where someone works. Not that I have anything at all against, let’s say..a waitress at Waffle House. But it would definitely send up some red flags and trigger more in-depth questions.

After a series of satisfactory answers and a long conversation with Rebecca’s mom on the phone, we decided Amanda would go to stay two nights for this long weekend.

So last night we popped their address into the gps and began the 80 miles to the big city where this family lives. Rebecca’s mom, Mary, had invited Ben and I to stay for dinner—which was very nice of her [and a great way to check them out and still be able to grab our kid and run if things turned ugly.]

However, we had a very nice dinner with an amazingly cool family. Both parents work for banks in the area and they had an adorably grown-up eight-year-old son who totally entertained us throughout dinner. Their house was nice and homey---even bragging the presence of a dog, two ferrets and a few fish. Very American, I’d say. As for Rebecca, she was even more interesting in person than she seemed long distance. Her and Amanda seemed to hit it off instantly and it made my heart light to see Amanda so happy. Finally we felt good about leaving our priceless gift in the hands of this new family and we made our way home.

Oh….on the way out, Amanda told me to be sure to text her when we arrived home safely. Once home, I checked in with her and ended the exchange with her instructions to text me in the morning that all had gone well over the long night. I wanted to tell her not to watch scary movies or stay up late, but I refrained and crawled into bed. I finally drifted off to sleep, hoping that Amanda was having a good time.

First thing when I woke up this morning, I rolled over and grabbed my Blackberry to see if Amanda had texted me any emergency messages through the night.

Nothing.

I texted her to see if she was up.

No reply.

I waited an hour and texted again.

No reply.

Another hour later, Ben texted her because I was pacing the floor and driving him crazy.

No reply.

Finally, she called me and very rudely told me she was busy watching a movie. I very rudely told her back that just stayed overnight with a family we had just met and I wanted to make sure she was okay! I told her when they got ready to get up and around for their day, to text me and tell me what she was going to do. I figured I’d hear from her again in about an hour or so.

Guess how many hours it was before I heard from her again?

NINE HOURS.

In those tortuously long hours while I was waiting, I texted her repeatedly.

I texted her friend.

I called their numbers and heard their voicemails.

Where was she?!! Don’t all teenagers carry their cells all the time? She was told to keep it close and not let it die!

I took my phone all over the house with me and looked at it half a million times to see if it was dead, broken or what! It was fine. But I heard nothing from it.

I didn’t want to look neurotic but I finally called their house phone and left a message for Amanda to call me immediately.

With the lack of communication, so many scenarios went through my head. I told my husband that maybe they had kidnapped her and took her across the state line and left the ferrets for us in her place. He told me to chill out. I told him that maybe she was hurt and in pain and needed me. He told me to get a grip. I told him maybe that wasn’t really their house or their animals and it was all a set up to get our kid…I told him lets go get her right now, one night early.

He decided I needed to go shopping.

We went to Kohls. As I was sorting through the clearance holiday clothes to find Manda a dress, my phone rang. I immediately threw the stack I was holding onto the rack and grabbed my blackberry just in time to see the words “Amanda Disconnected” flash across my screen.

What!?? Why did she hang up on one ring? Was she stuck in some sort of basement or trunk of a car and giving me one ring for a signal to find her and rescue her? Did she get caught with the phone and now she was going to be severely punished by her captor?

Stricken with fear, I looked up at Ben just as his phone rang.

“Grab It! Don’t let her hang up!!”

He rolled his eyes and answered the phone as I hovered close. Ben’s side of the conversation went sort of like this…

“Hey Baby….where have you been? ……Rock climbing? …….Whoa! Did you have fun?.....What are you going to do now? ……The movies?......Okay, do you want to talk to your mom?....”

Oh yeah…..I talked to her. But I didn’t let her have it like you think I did. I didn’t want her to know how much anguish her indifference caused her stressed out-very-imaginative-not wanting-to-let-go mother.

Now we are 13 hours from our reunion.

Somehow I doubt she will be as happy to see me as I will be to see her.

Another Story to Learn From

2009-01-15T19:50:00.000-08:00

Hi Kay,

I just wanted to send you a note to tell you how much I appreciate your book, Silent Tears. I am not a fast reader by any means, but this was one I couldn't put down and had read, cover to cover in about 2 days. It hurt to read, but I couldn't stop. The only reason hubby hasn't read it yet is that he is reading another that he wants to finish first---obviously not nearly as riveting or he would be done by now!

I've offered a very good friend of mine to read it, who also has 2 children adopted from China (and about 10 other kids in a yours, mine and ours family), but she wants to get one of her own. We are near certain the orphanage you were in could very well be the one her little boy came from in Nanjing. I'm sure she will contact you after reading the book.

Our son Seth, our last adopted and youngest of 7 came from ---- SWI with a Bilat Cleft palate, repaired lip. Your book confirmed what I suspected about many of the cleft children not surviving----Seth came to us at the age of 2 1/2 and an emaciated (was called emaciated by Chinese standards) 18 lbs. He was very fearful of everything (would retreat into his own world at the least bit of something fearful, lay on the floor and become visually unfocused but struggle and resist when I picked him up which I did anyway just to "pull him back" to reality), didn't want to eat or drink ANYTHING, had major control issues, wouldn't acknowledge pain, wouldn't go near anyone but me for months and months, resisted basically EVERYTHING. If I wanted him to walk with me he would stop and not go another step no matter where he was and even lie in the street. If I wanted to put his coat on he would resist. If I wanted to take it off he would resist. If I wanted to wash his hands, put him in his booster seat for a meal, dress him, etc......I could go on and on. I fought him to make him stay in my lap at bedtime to "read" him a book and rock.....didn't want that either. But now, just a bit over 2 years later, he loves books, stories, his family, will search me out when he is hurt, likes to wake up and find his own clothes and dress himself yet still has major control issues and as a result is pretty uncooperative. Not real sure what to do about that, but we are working hard with him. All in all though, he is a funny, happy little boy. ALL boy!

The girls also had issues. Chloe would fall over when I sat her up at 12 months and for the first few weeks wouldn't move out of about a 3 foot radius on the floor. She slammed down an 8 oz. bottle in minutes, but didn't know what to do with any other food of any sort. I made the mistake of putting her to bed in her crib in a room of her own. She sobbed and sobbed until I realized she had never ever been in a room alone in her life before, but in a room with about 60 other babies. For about the next 9 months one of us had to stay with her until she fell asleep. Liana was the opposite in eating....what I gave her was obviously new, but she ate and ate and ate. Many meals I just stopped giving her food because she would not have stopped on her own. This lasted for about 6 weeks. I'm sure she had just never been full before. Even so now at 6 1/2 she is still the smallest in her first grade class. Having been there only for their 1st year of life, their adjustments were nothing compared to Seth's. He's also been through 2 surgeries here already (the first one went VERY badly---major complication), and I'm sure another one will be this year. His teacher says academically he will be ready for Kindergarten in the fall ('09), but behaviorally my husband and I know he just isn't there yet.(not even close)

All this to say, your book helped me immensely in understanding what our children have come from, even though I "knew" the info I had wasn't from an adult who had been there, who worked with the children and saw first hand. Some info actually came from a little girl adopted at age 5 from Seth's orphanage who remembered him and remembered feeding him sometimes---a little girl of 4 feeding a cleft baby as Seth was under 1 year while Rosie was there---his lip repair was done at 10 1/2 months. Yet she has told many stories from his orphanage relayed through her mom. One story relates how the "big people" (what they called the ayis or aunties) would tell them that if they got out of bed the spiders would get them. I believe as a result Seth wouldn't get out of bed on his own for about 1 1/2 years after we brought him home, and that only after he had EMDR, a psychotherapy that treats PTSD.

Thank you so much for all you have done. It boggles my mind. And thank you so much for the book.

B.

No.............

2009-01-10T08:32:00.000-08:00

Wow....what a week.

I returned to work this week after a six-week medical leave. It was great to get my brain back in the fast lane but my body was dragged along under protest. I am TIRED. But I am happy to have a job, so I'll leave it at that.

Thursday a bunch of us met at Fuddruckers for a farewell lunch of a departing coworker. Because I rode with someone that needed to stop by Office Max, the three of us were one of the last groups to arrive.

At Fuddruckers, you stand in line to order your food and then give the cashier your name to be called out from another location when your order is ready. We stood in line and my friend, Maria came up with the idea that we give our names as Larry, Mo and Curly. Fine....I am all about being impulsive and having fun.

We ordered and made our way to the private room at the back of the restaurant. We found seats at the end of the table, making our group total 17 people. As we talked, we heard them call out Curly over the intercom and Maria went to retrieve her food. A few minutes later, they called out "Larry". I forgot that I was Larry, but Mo jabbed me in the side to remind me and I jumped up-- glad to finally get my food because I was starving!

Jen told me, "Hey...I ordered before you. Where is mine? Ask them if they already called out Mo."

I went to the specified counter and gave him my "Larry receipt" and asked him if he'd already called "Mo."

"Uh...we didn't have a Mo but we called out Noe."

The cashier had misunderstood and put Jen's name down as "Noe."

"Oh, that's it!" I grabbed both platters and headed back to the room.

I walked in and noticed that Maria was standing up and leaning over towards another friend...I assumed having a private conversation. I think I heard a few words like, "give her protection and guidance....."

Trying to get Jen's attention, I loudly said, "No........" [since she didn't get written down as Mo....I was telling her they were calling her No...]

Maria was still talking-- something about discernment and wisdom.......??

Jen didn't turn around, so even louder, I said, "NO.......!!"

Jen's head whipped around and holding her finger to her lips, she hissed, "SHHHH!!! We are praying!!!" [did I mention I work for a non-profit ministry?]

All 16 people had their heads bowed for a bon voyage prayer, which I had rudely interrupted not once but twice with my attempt to get Jen's attention.

Why didn't I notice that everyone had their head's bowed and were quiet?

I have no idea....I guess it is just another Blonde Moment to add to my collection.

Ba Humbug

2008-12-25T10:33:00.000-08:00

I've almost made it through. I've wrapped and unwrapped gifts, baked goodies, hung stockings, sang carols, stopped for hot chocolate, toured light shows, and all the other tasks expected of me. But honestly, the Christmas holidays make me sad. Not just sad—that is not even a strong enough word. Thankfully, I am great at hiding it. But upholding my reputation for keeping it real…I am sharing with you the “Why” of my Ba Humbug spirit.

Besides my own not-so-jolly childhood memories to overcome, a major reason is the thought of so many people trying so hard to put on a front and pretend like they are living a Norman Rockwell movie, when they are really trying to overcome past sad memories of holidays gone by. Sure, there are people that have wonderful flashbacks of childhood Christmas mornings, but perhaps more of the world is on the other side—the side I call reality.

Since I became an adult, I have struggled with the thought of all of the desperate parents who are scrambling just to get their children that one special gift that they can’t afford. I have been told and agree that God gave me a heart for underprivileged people. This blessing can also be a curse, as I am always dwelling on ‘how’ we can do something—anything to make a difference. I am not saying I do wonderful and amazing things every season…I wish I did but the truth is that even though we have been involved in several holiday ministries, it is not enough.

Since our experiences in China and having witnessed a whole new level of poverty and desperation, the days leading up to the Big Day are filled with memories of children that will not know the joy of the Christmas morning frenzy, or taste all the sweets and treats of the special dinners going on. I think of the children I left behind and I know from years of experience that they are living each minute of the day right now just trying to stay warm. The babies and toddlers are layered in so many clothes that even an attempt of turning over in their cribs is impossible. Adding to their already miserable life is the fact that they must stay in one position at all times. How sore their little bodies must get without the mobility that our babies are blessed with here at home. I think of the “kindergarten room” of older children that sit in the frigid cave of living conditions and have nothing to entertain or captivate their imaginations. I can still see the huge windows that were covered with ancient metal bars and usually open to the bitter wind, with the one or two children looking out at the courtyard for any movement to make a dent in their constant boredom.

Do the volunteers still put on the annual Christmas party I started when I was there? Yes, but let me tell you a secret—something I’ve never admitted to anyone. The parties we put on each Christmas reeked of unfairness and discrimination. It wasn’t our fault; we wanted all the children to attend. We begged and pleaded and usually ended up with less than 20 or so of the almost 150 kids we knew were there somewhere. Only the most beautiful and less-obviously disabled children were usually allowed to be there. I always spent the whole party time feeling guilty that the ‘other children’ knew there was a party going on that they weren’t allowed to go to.

Another memory I can’t shake is the time at the party that the director lined the children up to perform a song and the song was about “Mother, why did you leave me”…it was extremely sad and the children’s faces were instantly somber when they began to sing it. Why teach a child such a song? It broke my heart then and it still breaks my heart today to remember.

But for the sake of my own children and my jolly husband, I strive to put on a happy face and get us through the season without putting a damper on the days. We do the house decorating, the dinners, the extreme [ridiculously over-the-top] gifts and I follow my script as the Mom/director of the house and holiday….but I won’t forget those I left behind. The constant slide show of forlorn faces in my head never stops, and I hope it never will.

Now....I have one hour to shower, do my hair and makeup, put together a fruit tray, pack up the presents, paste on a smile and get my butt out the door for the final Christmas event with Ben's side of the family. After we eat 'til we pop, we are going to see the premiere of "Marley and Me" and I can't wait! [you know Marley looks just like my Lexi.....I wish we could sneak her in, she'd love to see the show...]

Merry Christmas from the Ba Humbug!

Trudging to School Uphill in Twelve Inches of Snow

2008-12-18T07:06:00.001-08:00

Seriously! It is true....

My daughter really doesn't believe me either that when I was in junior high in Nebraska, I had to trudge to school in falling snow with bread sacks taped over my only pair of tennis shoes and socks on my hands. Because she has multiple designer jeans, 8 pairs of shoes and numerous jackets/scarves/gloves...she cannot fathom the life I lived at her age and that times were rough even in 1983.

Don't get me wrong-- I am a strong person because of my modest upbringing . But I've come a long way and those old memories come back often to remind me of how blessed my children and I are now.

For example:

My daughter doesn't have to get in a cold car in the morning--she walks out to a pretty darned nice car that is pre-heated AND sheltered in the garage. I only got rides to school on the mornings it was so cold and snowy that we called around begging our friends to ask their parents to pick us up, which was rare that we would get any takers. We used to walk 'backwards' to school to keep our face out of the chilling wind. We were too close to the school [about three miles] to get to ride the bus...

My daughter doesn't have to come home and dry her shoes out for the next day. If she happens to get them wet, which is rare, she just picks a new pair out of the selection she has! I received one pair of tennis shoes when school started and they had to last me all year long. The bread sacks my sister and I fought over didn't keep the shoes totally dry and we would squish squash around the halls with scarlett cheeks from embarrassment. By the end of the school year, the shoes were in quite a state. Snow boots in Nebraska, you ask? Uh, yeah.....that would have been nice...

My daughter doesn't have to fumble with pulling the grungy socks from her frozen hands and struggle with the door each afternoon, then run in and try to defrost her fingers by running hot water over them. There is a basket of scarves and gloves of every variety right by our front door that she usually ignores but is there in a pinch---and she rides the bus home. The driver likes her so much he drops her right in front of our house, keeping her walk to only 30 seconds or so!

My daughter comes home to bottled water and a variety of expensive snacks to curb her appetite each afternoon. I have fond memories of faucet water and bread, bread and more bread. At only a dollar a loaf and four hungry children-- that was our snack. My twin sister and I used to spread butter on it and then drop it in the sugar canister for that extra uumpf. It was good and we never even thought to complain that it was all we had. We also had eggs [and sometimes canned biscuits] but my brother at 18-months older always laid claim to them and we didn't dare touch his stash. I do remember in elementary school that my mom was home to send us off at that time in our lives and we'd get a yummy bowl of steaming oatmeal. But as we grew older, we had to fend for ourselves.

Our children today are so much luckier than some of us were. I wish that I had more discipline to make her go without at times, just so she would learn that fact. However, I want my kids to have what I didn't. I am a long way from spoiling---because I do make them value their possessions in order to receive more, but wow....we have become such a material driven society. At times it really overwhelms me and I have the urge to throw it all out and start with nothing. [Common sense or my American sense of entitlement always steps in at the last moment]

I have memories of hardship but I also have recollections of fun experiences that our early independence allowed us.

1. In the nice weather, walking home with a pack of friends and stopping by the little candy shop "Reddie's" for a pop and piece of candy. (we would hoard our lunch money for this daily excursion)

2. Stopping by the park after school on our way home to hang out with the older kids-- my parents never knew about this and would have stopped it if they did.

3. Riding on the handlebars of my first boyfriend's bike [innocent relationship] as we met friends around town. I can't believe I did this at age 13. My daughter is 13 and I don't let her out of my sight, much less allow her to be with a boy alone! Poor child, she doesn't have a clue at what freedom really is...

4. Snowball wars before and after schools on the days that the weather was bearable.

5. Sledding down the big hill at the college [until a child sledded down into the street and was killed under a car, making them put up fences blocking our access]

We moved to the South when my sister and I were 15, and for months we despaired over leaving Nebraska. However, these days when we are in the high 60's for Winter [it is supposed to hit 70 today..] I praise the good Lord for leading my weary bones to a mild climate. I love it here but it is fun to remember the good and bad of our early teen years in a state that must have been made for eskimos!

It Matters!

2008-12-17T16:26:00.000-08:00

I don't watch scary movies.

I don't watch 'end of the world' movies.

I don't watch movies that feature dead bodies.

Why am I such a wimp, you ask?

Because I am a life-long survivor of night terrors and nightmares.

Last night Ben was channel surfing and came to the movie listing of "The Day After Tomorrow." I know this movie is about the end of the world and I have seen clips/previews/etc. of it that show floods and tornadoes, so I emphatically voted NO. I lost but before he selected the channel, I got up and with my hands blocking my vision of the television, made a fast exit to my room to watch something milder.

Too late. My mind already knew "what I was missing" and I awoke at 3 am in a sweat from dreaming of being in a Chinese taxi begging the driver to get me to my youngest daughter before the two swirling tornadoes in the sky got her first. It was terrifying but wasn't a night terror, which was a blessing. In my night terrors, I sit up with eyes wide open and am witnessing intruders usually-- [well, imaginary ones...] or someone is chasing me and that causes me to get up and out of bed at times. [one time I jumped up and ran through the house and straight into the refrigerator hard enough to bloody my face]

Night terrors are sometimes but not always a sign of childhood trauma. I didn't have the best childhood but I wasn't abused or neglected. I do remember sneaking my mother's Stephen King novels and reading them as early as age 11, though. These days I wouldn't touch his stuff with a 10-foot-pole. Night terrors run in our family and affect my father, twin sister and little sister all in different degrees. Mine are mild compared to the ones my twin has described.

I cannot even describe how terrifying it is to be in the middle of a night terror. By the time I can speak, I have already suffered through minutes of paralyzing fear. My night terrors have gotten better with age and now only come around if I trigger them. Some triggers are:

1. Sleeping anywhere that is not home
2. Scary movies
3. Total exhaustion
4. [oops, almost forgot this one!] Cold medicines, Nyquil, or prescription pain pills

The point in my post is this: If your child or loved one suffers from night terrrors, it matters what they watch, hear or read! It also helps if you can be sympathetic and if they are old enough to describe the terror, listen intently until they have talked it out of their system. If they are young, comfort them endlessly even if you are sleep-deprived and/or short on time.

What "gets me out of" a night terror? Very simple for me, turn on the light. My husband knows to do this now, after 15 years of me scaring "him" during the episodes! If a light is already on, turn on a brighter one or turn it off and on....

and I guess it is safe to say that I won't be going to see the movie "The Day the Earth Stood Still"..

A Journey in Helping Our Daughter Heal and Find Love Again

2008-12-06T10:46:00.000-08:00

Posted with permission as a story to help others learn and heal.

When our daughter was handed to us on October 15, 2002. She was very sick. Unlike all the other children who were awake and looking around, our daughter was out cold. She hung limply off her nanny's shoulder. When she was handed to me I realized how hot she was and I knew we were in big trouble. I was not a first time mom so I knew feversweren't necessarily anything to worry about, but my little one was really burning up.When we got back to our hotel room and I took her temperature I finally tossed the thermometer aside when it got to 105. We had taken many medications with us so we started her on advil and Tylenol piggybacks. We also had to strip her, something I had not wanted to do immediately, and put her in a tepid bath. While she was in the bath tub, she gave me a small smile which would hold us through the next few days of our nightmare into the world of third world medical care.

To fast forward, we spent two days going back and forth between the hospital (not a nice place) for IV fluids, and fighting to get us out of the current city and into the city that had the western SOS medical clinic. We had taken our older daughter to China with us, and we were deeply worried about our new daughter being sick with Rotovirus.The second day our daughter was with us she started vomiting every bottle we tried to feed her, as well as having severe diarrhea. She was so dehydrated from the vomiting and diarrhea that we simply could not keep up with getting enough fluids into her. The three bottles of IV fluids given at the hospital, and lots of prayer saved her life.

Our agency did get us out early, but not until after they recommended we reconsider adopting our daughter. We thought about that recommendation for a split second and then emphatically said no. She was our girl, sick or not, and we were bringing her home with us. We arrived in the new city just days after meeting our daughter. We spent the duration of our trip hunkering down with a sick child at the White Swan, and checking in with the SOS clinic daily.By this time, our girl's diarrhea had become bloody with severe intestinal cramping. She had the worst diaper rash I have ever witnessed, which neither of the two different creams we took with us would alleviate. Thankfully, the SOS clinic gave us something that worked. She also had a double ear infection, throat infection, and fever blisters all overher little mouth. She was one sick little girl. Although the SOS clinic was far better than the previous hospital, we didn't find out what was creating her illness until we reached home. After reaching our home city, we immediately drove our older daughter home to her waiting grandmother, and headed to our local hospital for testing, again not something I would have chosen to do so soon.

Within a day it was discovered that Mei Mei had Shigella (which is like E Coli). It wasn't just normal Shigella, or the broad spectrum antibiotic we took would have killed it, but it was Super Shigella. The only antibiotic that it was susceptible to was Cipro, which was not being used with children. Of course we didn't have any choice but to use it, so we did.She was well within a week’s time, and we settled in to become a family of four. But, it was not to be so easy. What I now know is that our girl was displaying many early RAD signs. She was clingy (who can blame her after what she had been through), demanding (again good survival skills in an orphanage), and generally moody and melancholy. I didn't expect her to immediately be a happy smiley baby. I knew enough about post institutionalization to know it would take time for her to trust us, but I didn't know enough about early signs of attachment and trauma to see that her behaviors were indicating a real serious problem that hugs, kisses and reassurance would not heal.

I had already started attachment parenting. We started the family bed, which was a miserable failure due to her inability to sleep. I carried her virtually everywhere, which she insisted upon through screaming if I put her down at all. She did not go into any other childcare situation. I bottle fed her with eye contact. I rocked her nightly to the same lullaby music she still listens to at night. I bathed with her. I rubbed the same lotion on her that I wore. She was with me virtually 24/7, but it wasn't enough. Looking back now we needed the help of professional intervention, and I needed a whole lot more support to keep doing this work, even when I didn't see results.

Fast forward three years, right before Mei Mei’s fourth birthday, she turned and looked at her big sister and said, "I hate myself." All the years of struggling with her very controlling and fake people pleasing behaviors, came to mind and I knew that our daughter was not securely attached. It was my greatest fear and yet it was what the Lord had called into my life. I would be lying though if I didn't admit that I was terrified.I had read about the Romanian orphans. I had watched the Dateline specials. Heck, my brother worked as a social worker in a residential care facility that was filled with Russian adoptees who had RAD. I wasn't uneducated in this area. The problem was that the symptom lists I had learned about were for older kids. Our daughter was only three and she didn't display those symptoms, yet. I called my husband and told him we needed to find help for our daughter. He agreed and we made an appointment to see an attachment therapist who was local. We saw him for six months and realized that we were not getting anywhere, except that he was making her PTSD worse due to her incredible fear of men. On the home front we were busy learning all we could about post-institutional issues to help our daughter heal.

It was also during this time we started an adoption ministry at our church. It was focused more on the "we’re home now what" premise. We wanted to explore adoption parenting from a Biblical perspective. We had been through too much confusion and faulty parenting advice to not follow God's calling in starting this ministry. We saw too manyparents bring home struggling children and try to apply traditional parenting practices, which were failing everyone involved. We wanted to seek wisdom, apply what the Lord taught us and grow in the area of Biblically parenting the adopted child.While researching RAD for another parent I came across the web page attach-china. I read the parent testimonies and every single question I had ever had about anything our daughter was struggling with was answered. Our daughter's inability to sleep through thenight and her ever present night terrors were all classic signs of the PTSD she suffered from. Her controlling behaviors such as hoarding food in her mouth, needing to be in charge all the time, and her extreme jealousy of any of my time being directed off her, were all symptoms of her insecure attachment. There were other red flags, but it would take a long time to list them all right now, but each one of those symptoms was listed within attach-china's webpage. I cried as I read these testimonies because on one level I was scared for our family and our girl, but on another level I knew I wasn't crazy. We weren't alone! There were other families and other Chinese girls with these same issues.I started pouring through information about attachment and PTSD. I read everything I could get my hands on, and I started calling every place I knew to get the help we needed. We paid special attention to adoptive families who had traveled this path ahead of us, and we learned from their victories and mistakes.We realized our daughter would need interventions that were not typical.

From other adoptive families we learned of a neurodevelopment program in Oregon that was treating adopted children with RAD, as well as other conditions. We made an appointment to fly over and have her evaluated. Even though she had shown no major developmental delays maybe we had missed something. We also learned of a Christian attachment/trauma therapist who worked in Portland, Oregon. I looked at my husband and said, "I don't know what the checkbook says, you make the decision." He replied, "You're going." We made an appointment to see the therapist, Dr. Kali Miller.

Our daughter was diagnosed with moderate anxious attachment (insecure) and severe Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD). She also has some sensory processing issues, which showed at her neurodevelopment evaluation. We came home from Dr. Miller's office and started bottle feeding her again during a daily snuggle time. Instead of milk we gave cooled hot chocolate. We also started co-sleeping with her again, which we had tried when we first came home. We pulled back into our family and really limited our outings and our visitors. She just couldn't handle any extra stress in her life, and we needed to learn out how to therapeutically parent her.When we re-introduced the bottle, with eye contact, she would take a few swallows and erupt in rage. She had made great eye contact when we first came home, but I remembered that it was mostly on her terms. Now, I was asking her to make eye contact on my terms and she didn't want that. I had to hold her while she kicked, screamed, spit and fought through the rage that she was feeling. The first few times it was well over an hour before she stopped raging and started crying. It was exhausting work, but each time she would cry she would say to me, "Mommy, why did she leave me? Mommy, I must have cried too much."

So many times I cried right along with her as she entered into the pain within her heart. I didn't want to see my daughter hurt like she did, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. The only thing I could do was show her that this time she would not be alone. I would walk this path with her no matter what.I was homeschooling my oldest daughter at the time, and one day I had a home school moms Bible study meeting. Our discussion was about grace that night, and the leader asked if anyone had shown their child grace recently. I raised my hand to speak and calmly told my story. That same day during our daily snuggle/bottle time, while I had been telling my daughter how much I loved her, she had matter-of-factly looked up at me and said, "I don't love you, I hate you!" Her hatred was very real and very true, and it was expressed during a time of intimacy. Although I was taken aback I felt the Lord tell me, "It's okay, I've got her," and only through His strength I was able to look her in the eyes and say, with love and acceptance in my eyes, "That's okay, sweetie, I have enough love for both of us." After I sent her out of my room, I went into my closet and sobbed. It was the moment when the magnitude of what we were dealing with first hit me, and I felt my heart rip into pieces.

To facilitate bonding, our daughter was kept very close to me. She slept with us on my side of the bed. For the first six weeks she fought to get away from me in her sleep. It was so strange to have a sleeping child kick and moan in her sleep, while trying to scoot as far away as she could get from me. I didn't get much sleep during those first six weeks, but after the initial difficulties she learned to snuggle in to me. In fact, she would sleep with one leg over me at all times, as if she was afraid I would get away otherwise. She slept like that for over a year. It was only this Christmas that we moved her to a mattress beside our bed, which is where she still sleeps today.

For approximately six months, I heard my daughter scream over and over again that she hated me, and each time her outbursts ended with me holding her while she raged. Each episode ended with more of her pain coming to the surface. She cried, "I hate my birthmother, she hurt me and when I hurt I want to hurt other people." My heart ached for her, but each time my only job was to stay with her and allow the Lord's love to flow through me to her. It was hard work, and even though I knew I was never alone myself I felt so isolated and scared.

After about six months instead of screaming she hated me she began screamed, "I don't want you to love me, love hurts." Again, these snuggle times ended in more rages and more holdings where the pain she was holding onto came flooding out. The holdings no longer lasted over an hour. They lasted around 30-40 minutes.Outside of snuggle time she was starting to have some really good days. They weren't the good days of old where you never knew if she was being real or not, but these were genuine. We started to see real smiles and hear real laughter from her. They didn't come often, but they were wonderful to see just the same, and we cherished every one of them.

The whole time my daughter and I had been flying back and forth, every two weeks, between Idaho and Oregon to see our daughter’s attachment therapist. A year into this, Mei Mei started coming into snuggle time saying, "I want mommy's love." She was also making great eye contact, and she was draining her hot chocolate bottle. In fact, there were many times when I would look into her eyes and see the baby that I knew wanted nothing more than to be loved. Her eyes were soft and trusting like a small baby’s would be in a mother's arms. It was very different from the dark rage-filled eyes I had seen looking up at me six months ago.

The journey through attachment has been long and hard. We have learned so much about how neglect affects children. Without having a sensory rich and nurturing environment while living at The SWI, our daughter’s ability to process sensory stimuli has been compromised. Without one caregiver to bond with she has learned not to trust those around her, and with the introduction of the severe neglect she suffered her brain development has suffered. She reads everything as a potential threat and reacts accordingly. These behaviors are not just a choice for her, and they aren’t just emotions she is feeling. They are hardwired into her brain and cells through pre-verbal cellular memories and neurological impairments stemming from the neglect so prevalent in so many orphanages worldwide.

Because of all the challenges she faces we intervened in ways which are not typical. She started a neurodevelopment program two years ago. At her evaluation we discovered anomalies in her tummy crawling, her hands and knees creeping, and so many other developmental areas that we were never informed about. To this day she has creeped and crawled over 120 miles, and through what appears to be silly interventions of fetal patterns and other infant patterns, we have seen wonderful improvements. She no longer rejects the love I pour into her, but runs to me for comfort and hugs.

We also had her neurotransmitters tested last year via a urine test, and found that her brain chemistry was way off. It was described to me that her brain chemistry showed as if she had consumed 40 cups of coffee with nothing to eat. In fact, the practitioner we work with said Mei Mei’s brain was never chemically ready to attach. It is no wonder she had explosions. We started her on targeted amino acid therapy and we saw immediate improvements. The biggest area we saw her improve was in the area of sleep. She was so hyper vigilant that she had not been able to sleep well since she had come home from China, over four and half years ago. During her third year she had so many night terrors I could count the number of times she didn’t wake screaming on one hand. Sadly, nobody knew how to help us because nobody knew what was going on. Once we started her on the supplements for the amino acid therapy she started going to sleep in five minutes, but what was even more encouraging was that she stayed asleep through the whole night.

We continue to peel back the layers of her wounds from her early beginnings. We continue to fly back and forth between Idaho and Oregon for bi-weekly therapy. We hope one day soon to be able to drop down to once a month. Mei Mei is almost finished with her neurodevelopment program, and she will be beginning neurofeedback to target the anxiety she still struggles with. We do therapeutic parenting in our home, and we try to educate as many people as will listen that parenting adopted children is very different than parenting birth children, whose beginnings don’t include trauma. We know because we have done both in parenting our girls. Mei Mei’s struggles stem from living in inadequate orphanage conditions, and those challenges take an entirely different approach.

Our daughter has made tremendous strides in healing. She no longer tells me she hates me. She will say, “I can’t push mommies love away,” During nightly prayers she thanks God for sending her a mommy who will always love her. She is beginning to make connections with others in our family. She is not fully healed, but I have faith that He who began a good work in her will not finish it until it is completed. I am sure she will always have trauma as a part of her history and she will always have rejection and loss to work through. But, I see how far God has brought her through the interventions and the help of the powerful team of professionals He put together. I know He has a plan for her just as He had a plan for Helen Keller. She was recently the “Star of the Week” in her kindergarten class, and for the question what do you want to be when you grow up, she put “I want to be a Dr. Kali and help children who hurt.” I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Note: On Gotcha Day none of our girls cried at being handed to perfect strangers. I have heard that girls from the SWI don’t typically cry. Why is that? A child who had bonded with someone would show signs of distress at being handed to people who looked, smelled and sounded nothing like the people they are used to seeing. I now know that what we saw were red flags for attachment and PTSD. For more information about attachment disorders or Post Trauma disorders in Chinese children see attach-china or a4everfamily.org

Dear Santa all I want is a Foster Family

2008-12-01T09:53:00.000-08:00

These children are currently in foster care but if we do not find sponsors to financially support the fees, they will have to return to the orphanage. If you would like to sponsor one of them, the cost is $35 per month or a full year for only $420. If interested, please email me at kaybratt70@hotmail.com. They come to us via Pearl River Outreach organization. Thank you so much to those of you that are already sponsoring children from China for foster care! Merry, merry Christmas to you!

Hayden (with chubby cheeks)

Preston (little Elvis)

Winnie (with the wrinkled brow and bald head)

Baby McKenzie (with the mop of hair)

Phoebe (with the pigtails)

Baby Natasha (with the pink cap)

Lainey (with the red trimmed tshirt and red shorts) Only Needs One More Sponsor!

Jillian (Pictured with Goofey and Donald Duck)

Jamison (small boy with the #12 Sweatshirt)

Disrupted on 20/20

2008-11-29T07:24:00.000-08:00

Did any of you see 20/20 last night about foreign adoption disruptions? It just broke my heart to see all the children there that were in so much emotional pain. I also felt for the parents, though the one little girl that was taken to Disruption Ranch after only 5 weeks at home was pitiful. You would think her parents could have given her more than 5 weeks to try to adjust!

Here is a part of something that really disturbed me:

"She started having a meltdown and crying, and we couldn't figure out what was going on," Tanya Mulligan said. "She was running around the house and wailing."

Her adoptive parents didn't speak Russian and Margarita understood very little English. She was crying, out of control and because of the language barrier, there was little her parents could do, they said.

Eventually, Mike Mulligan picked up a video camera and began filming Margarita's behavior, wanting to show Margarita's therapist and other family members how chaotic their lives at home had become.

For me, I would think that if my newly adopted daughter was hysterical and running around the house in desperation, I would not pick up a video camera and start filming. Wouldn't that just escalate the confusion for her?

And this....

Tanya and Mike Mulligan are now suing the adoption agency for damages, because they say they weren't told of their children's psychological conditions.

Ridiculous, in my opinion. We all know that the orphanage feeds the agencies bogus information about the children and their personalities and abilities. More times than not, they do not come forward with information about issues. Why sue the adoption agency if they didn't know?!

Amanda and I were lying in bed watching and of course, my next conversation with her was, "I want a ranch in Montana for disrupted adoptions too!" I could really see myself doing that--each story really got to me and I wanted to wrap my arms around each child and tell them that I could understand the pain they were hiding in their hearts-- though really, no one but someone who has spent time living in an orphanage can really know, right?

I think it was a good piece to explain RAD to those that are not involved in foreign adoption. Sort of...what did you think?

A Cold Memory

2008-11-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

Today I grabbed my 'copy' Burberry trench coat out of the closet to put on and cover my abdominal binder as I walked to the mailbox. I haven't worn the coat in a long time--I guess a real long time because I reached into my pocket and felt coins jingling. I pulled out a handful of yuan coins. Just holding the coins in my hand made memories of winter in China come flooding back. I remembered one particular day when I was supposed to get to the international school for a presentation my daughter was in.

The neighborhood that we lived in was out of the main part of town-- on the other side of the famous lake. It could be very hard to get a taxi at times, and if it was extremely cold or raining, your chances were reduced even more. I did not have a driver that day [grrrr...] so as I stood at the road and watched the cars fly by, I got colder and colder. I don't know if it was just our city or all over China, but there was "always" a bitter wind howling and it would cause extreme pain to my ears.

A few taxis went by and I would practically step out into the crazy traffic waving until they got close enough for me to realize they had passengers. I was getting desperate because I thought I was never going to get an empty taxi and I didn't want to miss the school presentation.

Just when I was about to give up and trudge back home, a shoddy blue van screeched to a stop right in front of me. A chubby Chinese man with a nasty brown cigarette was behind the wheel and shouted at me, "Ni yao qu nali?!" [where do you want to go?]

This was obviously not a taxi and he was obviously not a taxi driver.

However.

I needed to get to the school. And I needed to get there fast.

My thoughts quickly assessed the situation and I knew he'd never know where Xin Jia Po Guo Ji Xue Xiao [international school] was, but.....I could tell him to take me to the popular corner that taxi's hang out and I could then jump in a real taxi and Ta Da.....get to the school.

My logical side said that there was a chance he was a serial killer and stalked foreigners and he had just hit pay dirt.

I decided not to pay attention to the aggravating logical side and told him the corner and asked how much. We negotiated a price and I hopped in.

On the short ride, my husband called. The conversation went like this:

Ben: "Hi honey, what are you doing?"

Me: "Oh, I am riding in a crappy blue van with a fat man smoking a cigarette."

Ben: [chuckle] "Oh really? You are crazy.....]

Me: "No, really. I couldn't get a taxi and this man is giving me a ride."

Ben: "WHAT!? Are you crazy? Who is he? How did you find him? Get out of his car!"

Me: "Well, next time I have an appointment at the school, maybe you could arrange for the driver to be available... I gotta go, we're almost there."

The whole way the driver kept looking over at me with total curiosity and when I hung up the call with Ben, I started having a conversation with him. I think he was a little taken aback that I could communicate with him-- well, sort of. He was definitely not speaking Mandarin so we did struggle, but it was just a funny exchange all around. At the plaza, I hopped out and handed him his money through the window. I felt a tiny bit relieved that I didn't have to pull out any secret judo moves on him--

Funny what a handful of coins can make you remember.....

Remembering a Little Warrior

2008-11-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

If you read Silent Tears, you remember this excerpt. The picture shown here is not the baby that I wrote about-- but I ran across her picture yesterday on the net and it brought back the memory of that helpless child in China. This is what the baby in my story looked like-- and it was the aftermath of being abandoned outside on a sweltering summer night and fighting to stay alive despite the attack of mosquitoes that ravaged the part of her face that was not covered.

As written in Silent Tears:

It is 11 p.m. and well past my usual bedtime. I can’t get the image of a new tiny baby off my mind. How can parents abandon a one-week-old infant outside in the sweltering heat? Her tiny face was covered in what I first thought was some sort of disease, but soon discovered was a vicious mosquito attack. The skin was extremely red, raw, and the baby was clearly in severe pain. I cannot imagine what this defenseless child went through as the insects tortured her with repeated bites. The baby girl has one deformed hand turned completely backward―obviously the reason for her abandonment. The hand looked like such a minor handicap—something easily repaired. Why do people in China still believe they are living in a time where disabilities mean lifelong hardship? They need to join the rest of the world and agree that a hand is just a hand―it doesn’t affect the child’s brain or change her right to be treated like a human. I’m praying tonight that the baby will not feel any more pain. Sometimes the things I see are beyond my ability to comprehend, and I will never respect customs that cause harm to innocent children.

Queen of The House or Stupid Foreigner?

2008-11-23T09:03:00.000-08:00

Going back in time to our first year in China, [which I have already shared was the hardest year of my entire life] we were the first family from our company to move to the Chinese city we were living in. A few months later, Ben’s manager joined the team and moved to a bachelor pad across town. To get the project up and running, various teams of Americans were brought over to stay 3-8 weeks at a time and rotated out. While the guys were here, the most common complaint was hunger for home-cooked food. Food was always an issue in China and never really got better the almost five years we were there, but in time we learned how to make do and where to find ingredients that made it possible to cook some familiar items. [not to mention over the years we got better western restaurants and our own tiny import store]

On a cold winter day, I decided to take on the huge project of feeding the team a meal of homemade soups, salad and sandwiches [with real condiments from the import store]. This took weeks to plan, as I had to go to the big city to find ingredients and had to figure out substitutions for the items not available.

The meal was going to be served at the manager’s house, because he was close to the temporary accommodations of the team and had a pool table, stereo and other items of interest to the strange phenomenon we call ‘men’.

The day before the anticipated day, I cooked soup all day. I made three types of homemade soup. Ben came home from work to relay the message that the guys were extremely excited about having a day of good food and camaraderie.

The day of the Soup Day, our driver came to pick us up and I lay a towel in the floor of the van. On top of that were displayed three huge pots of my best soups. I begged and pleaded with my driver to go slow and safe all the way across town. [That was wasted breath, as he didn’t understand the meaning of slow and safe..]

Once there, we carried in the soup and propped back the strange glass cover on the stovetop to put the soup on to keep warm. I had a few hours to get everything else ready and was trying to keep the manager’s ayi from getting into my food and adding her own Chinese touch to the strange concoctions she was wrinkling her brow at. I finally ran her out and proceeded to cube the cheese, make the salad, prepare the meat tray for sandwiches, set the bowls out, etc..

On the strange European stove, I was having a hard time regulating the temperature to simmer. It was either not hot enough or boiling and my frustrations at dealing with the difficult appliance was growing. I was forced to turn the burners off for a few minutes, then back on….back and forth trying to keep it all warm until the guys arrived. It was a tedious process but necessary to get the end result.

Finally, the guys started coming in and they were all exclaiming over the wonderful aroma of the soups and couldn’t wait to dig in. Ben was beaming that he had such an amazing wife that he could depend on to earn points from his team—and he periodically checked on me to make sure all was well.

At one point, Amanda came into the tight little kitchen to ask if she could help. I passed her the napkins and cutlery and told her to go set the table. The ayi had once again stepped in to see what she could do and I ran her out as well. As a last minute task, I hurried out of the kitchen to see how the dining room was looking. Just as I turned the corner and made a few steps down the hall, a huge explosion rocked the house!

I screamed and turned back to the kitchen, praying that the ayi had not gone back in there, and what I saw was devastating to my spirit and pride. The strange glass cover that was opened and propped on the backside of the stovetop had gotten too hot and exploded into a million tiny shards of glass—all over the kitchen and into the three pots of soup! At first, I was in shock in the midst of all the men who had come running to see if I was all right. When I confirmed no one was maimed, I immediately realized all of my work leading up to this special day had been ruined. Of course, I cried big fat tears at the destruction of my debut as the perfect wife, at my frustration of constant hunger, and at my ignorance of European appliances.

The men were great- [well, actually at the sight of tears they all instantly disappeared.]

My usually-awesome-husband was not so great. He proceeded to go over to the pot of spicy chili and begin straining glass out of the soup while pleading with me, “It can still be saved... I can fix it....”

In total astonishment, I asked him, “ARE YOU CRAZY? You want to serve your team crushed glass?! Do you really want to KILL THEM?!”

I finally made him see reality and we were forced to order the disappointing Chinese pizza we were all so sick of eating. After a few games of pool and some hushed laughter, the guys left with quite a story about Ben’s wife, [which is most likely still going around the company gossip mill, five years later.]

Of course, looking back, we can laugh about it now. But I’ll never forget that little old Chinese maid with her look of astonishment at the havoc I had wreaked on her previously spotless kitchen. To my credit, I had conceded to her I was the stupid foreigner and she was the Amazing Queen of the House. She was kind and had pity on me, and assisted me in the huge clean-up session. I followed her around with my eyes lowered in submission and a broom/dust pan attached to my shaking hands.

The Hobbit

2008-11-22T06:53:00.000-08:00

I have been out of commission this week but today am coming back to life. [at least a little bit] I had my hysterectomy on Tuesday and the rest of the week I have survived through a haze of Ibuprofin and Percocet. Last night my dear friend brought over her famous spaghetti and meatballs and I attempted to act half human and join my family in the kitchen to prepare our plates. When I stand up, it feels like my guts are falling out so I was walking around hunched over, holding my belly and scrunching my face up in pain. My sweet daughter looked at me as I stumbled around the kitchen and said, "Gosh Mama, you look like a little hobbit".

Have you ever tried to suppress laughter when you are just a few days post op? The visual her description conjured up almost sent me back to the hospital....

A Beautiful Day Full of Laughter

2008-11-16T14:56:00.001-08:00

We had such a great day today. We skipped church (after dropping off our Operation Shoeboxes and assuring ourselves that God would want us to take advantage of the gorgeous Fall day...) and headed to the North Carolina mountains. Despite the chore of getting me up the treacherous path to the top of the scenic view, we spent a day laughing and enjoying each other and the amazing colors. We also got up close and personal with the local groundhog, who sat only inches from us and casually chewed on a snack before scurrying into the woods. This day will go down as one of my favorites....

All I Wanted Was A Bowl of Comfort Soup...

2008-11-15T08:06:00.000-08:00

Friday was my last day of work for the next month. What I hoped to be an easy day—considering I had spent the last two weeks coming in extra early, staying through some lunches and pulling several 10-hour days to cover anything I could think of that might come up in my absence—still turned into a day of complete chaos and frustration.

I work for the director of Human Resources and the evening before, she must have had a light bulb come on that her assistant was about to be gone for A MONTH! So in her moment of realization [bless her heart, she means well…and she really is a good boss to work for] she thought up all sorts of things I needed to accomplish before 5pm. Projects that usually take several days to finish were expected to be complete in one day—tasks like preparing the multitude of paperwork for two possible new hires, coordinating a second interview for a candidate from another state; flights, hotel, car, golf tee time, nailing down a time that all involved could agree on, typing up the itinerary, calling his references, grrrr…..

On top of all that, I still had other must do’s; an announcement to create for a promotion, training material for my replacement, coordinating all the last minute details for our charity drive and wrap-up luncheon, etc-etc-etc. –all this to say that by the time I said my good-byes, I had a crushing headache.

Once freed from the longest day ever, I jumped in my car and turned the radio off to enjoy fifteen minutes of silence on my way home. My goal was to get in a hot bath and then make it an early night to bed. When I walked in the door, Ben and Amanda were obviously ready to go out. Amanda had printed a ‘new hairstyle’ from the internet and wanted to it done ‘right now’. Friday is usually our night to go out to eat and I didn’t want to be the party-pooper, so I freshened up a tad and jumped in the car.

First stop was the salon but they couldn’t do her hair so we made an appointment for this morning—which is where my dear family is right now. Therefore, we moved on to the next stop, which was FATZ restaurant for a quick meal. All I wanted was a comforting bowl of hot soup and a glass of water without lemon. Not much to ask? Right?

First, out of the three flavors of soup I would have eaten, they weren’t serving any of them. They only offered Clam Chowder [eeww] and Chicken Gumbo. I relented on Chicken Gumbo and then spent the next fifteen or twenty minutes with my hand blocking the over-powering light coming from the low-hanging fixture over our table. My head was throbbing and I had been told not to take any Ibuprofen a week before my surgery so I was trying to suffer through it. [I know…I was just a load of fun..or at least a load of something...]

My soup finally came and you guessed it, it was not hot. It wasn’t cold…it was more like lukewarm. I was disappointed but the last time I was there, the same thing happened and when I sent it back they took a very long time to return it and when they did, it was so hot I couldn’t eat it. So, this time I just ate it as it was and it was okay—but in the middle of our ‘soup conversation’, Amanda said, “Mama, remember in China when the soup exploded?”

That got us laughing thinking about the Soup Explosion Day and I told her I was going to blog about it.

So stay tuned and I’ll write about the Soup Explosion in China. It will be entertaining, I promise. Right now I am going to make a list so Ben can go pick up ingredients for my famous home-made stuffed cabbage soup I can make it myself and serve 'hot' tonight. And in case you were wondering, I did take 4 Advil to rid me of my migraine and was asleep by 8pm to wake up as a much nicer human being....

Kay

About A Boy

2008-11-15T06:15:00.000-08:00

Used with permission from Nicole at The Baker's Sweets

I know that most people want to hear about our newest addition and how he is adjusting but I wanted to take a moment to post about another little boy in our family…. our son Luke.

In the past 1 ½ years I haven’t posted lots of details about Luke because … well…. everything with Luke has been… well… complicated. I had been procrastinating about putting this post up but I had wonderful email exchange with Kay Bratt which turned my procrastination into action! So here it goes….

It was clear from the beginning that the Lord intended Luke to be our son. Luke’s paperchase moved along smoothly and our agency was fabulous! I was so ready to travel to get Luke however the adoption trip and beyond was very rough. We received Luke’s referral when he was just 9 months old. We were thrilled with all the information we received about him during our wait to travel and we took everything we were told as truth. We had read all the books, done all the research, talked to our social worker and agency about developmental delays and such. Heck, this was our 3rd adoption so we felt we were prepared!

We traveled to China in May 2007 and from the get-go… from the moment we arrived at Dulles airport, there were issues. From my bowel issues, to seat assignments, to the ticket counter in Beijing telling us that our connecting flights to his province weren’t paid for (even though I had our e-ticket receipt in hand)…. It was just chaos. We calmed ourselves once arriving in province and had a nervous day of sightseeing the day before Gotcha Day.

That morning I woke up with my stomach in knots. I thought it was the anxious anticipation of meeting Luke after all these months. Something inside me told me that I was preparing for a roller coaster ride. My anxiousness was actually the kind that you get before going on a huge scary roller coaster…. ya know… you want to go but you don’t!
We arrived at the Civil Affairs office early and just waited for Luke to arrive. We were watching out the window and we see a tiny little boy being carried around to the door. This little boy looked like an infant… his head and body were so small that I thought it just couldn’t be Luke but for some reason I just knew… with only seeing the back of his head… that is was him. They turn the corner and enter the room and it is indeed Luke. He looks nothing like the pictures we received. He is acting like none of the reports we received. He is handed to me and he is skin and bones and pretty much unresponsive. I look at him and inside I scream “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!” I received reports that he was standing on his own… attempting to ride a bike! THIS little boy doesn’t have enough strength to even hold up his head. All the while we are being told he is fine.

This is where it all began… the struggle. We bring him back to the hotel and quickly discover more things about our son… he can’t hold his head up, he can’t sit up, he can’t steady himself in a crawling position, he has no pincher grasp, he can’t hold a bottle, he has 2 lazy eyes (amblyopia and strabismus), he has impacted bowels from only having 1 bowel movement a month, he has only been fed a bottle 2 times a day, he is grossly mal-nourished (14 lbs). Luke was 19 months old.Beside all of his physical issues, Luke had MANY SCARY orphanage related behaviors (head banging, knocking on his head, knocking under his chin, etc.) and the list goes on. He was non-responsive to other people 99.9% of the time. We would say “He’s on another planet”. We soon discover that he has spent 23 hours a day in a crib making his head so flat that a doctor likened him to Gumby. He screamed when you picked him up because he just hadn’t been moved much. When you held him he would tilt his head back as if he was lying in a crib since his whole world had been the ceiling. If you have read Kay Bratt’s book Silent Tears….. THIS was Luke’s existence.

From the moment he was set in my arms I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. I couldn’t comprehend the dire straits this little boy was in. I felt helpless…. I didn’t even know where to start to help him…. and this was all in the first 3 hours. After spending 24 hours with him I was sure he was severely mentally disabled and I wondered what we were getting ourselves into. If he was mentally disabled… what about our other kids? Would we be able to help him? The questions poured out of me. I was totally emotional and I just couldn’t see straight. PLUS, I had that creeping feeling that the orphanage had totally deceived us and I was angry. If we had accurate information AT LEAST we could have prepared. I cried and prayed and cried and prayed.

The next morning we were whisked back to the Civil Affairs office to sign the adoption paperwork. I cried all the way to the office. My anger boiled over…. THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN THIS WAY! I wanted to have Kiah’s adoption experience again! Or Jake’s! An adoption experience where we were over the moon happy and our baby was definitely OK. Doesn’t everyone want that regardless of whether they adopt SN or NSN????

The rest of our trip was long and miserable. When people asked how old Luke was... you could see the looks on their faces revealing what we were already too scared to admit. We smiled (OK…I) and faked happiness outside of our hotel room but I was miserable worrying about our son .... and secretly envious of all of those families with “typical” adopted children… the little ones toddling around the White Swan playroom… the ones cooing at their mother at the breakfast buffet… the ones strolling around the hotel area and sitting in highchairs at Lucy’s. We had no idea how to help our little boy and no idea exactly WHAT was wrong with him.
We came home and started taking him to tons of doctors. Lots of words were thrown around: Cerebral Palsy, Autism, Tourettes Syndrome… I won’t go into the frustration and aggravation we have had finding doctors to take care of him. 1 month after coming home… at 20 months old… he rated 5 – 7 months on his developmental assessments. He started receiving services from the county but it simply wasn’t enough. Trying to find additional services was very hard.

While all of this was going on I was struggling inside. I was simply not able to attach or bond to Luke. I was in the process of reaching out for information and assistance and every day I felt horrible. I was stuck in a cycle of trying to figure out what was wrong with Luke and trying to figure out how to get him to where he was supposed to be… the cold hard truth is (and I’m being totally transparent here) I was too busy wanting him to be something else. All of you parents with special needs children understand this… it’s SO HARD to watch your child… the one you had such hopes and dreams for… to watch that child struggle and not know exactly how to help him. Each day I would pray that the Lord would give me HIS heart for Luke.

During this whole time… the one thing that kept me going… everyday … was that I was 100% SURE that the Lord placed Luke in our family for a reason. I KNEW He orchestrated all of the events for him to join this family, He provided all the money for the adoption, He ordained this little boy long before we even knew about him… long before we even thought about adopting… HE ordained this little boy to be our son. I KNEW this in my heart and in my soul. THIS was MY son. And I knew that eventually the Lord would put all the pieces together. Slowly but surely, He did.
Luke started daycare in August of this year. This was a big transition as he had been going to my mom’s house every day since June 2007. He was to have a special needs teacher assisting him in class every day. Although that sounded great, NOW he would be in a classroom with other kids. Would he be expected to act like the other kids? I was a wreck. 1 month before starting school he had a developmental assessment and even though he was on target developmentally for gross motor….. fine motor and cognitive were only rated at 15 – 17 months. He was 30 months old. He was still not able to sit in a chair to eat. He would toss a plate or cup off of the highchair in the blink of an eye. You could only put 1 piece of food on his tray at a time. He could not get items you requested of him. I could go on and on. We knew how to deal with Luke and what to expect from him. THEY did not. I was so nervous. I had nightmares of receiving calls each day about how Luke was disruptive during class and meal time. Luke wouldn’t MEAN to be disruptive… but his delays would play a part in his behavior in the classroom. I made sure to meet with his teachers and site director prior to starting school. I tried to prep them for what I knew was reality with Luke’s behavior. I had this neat idea that Brandon would take him and pick him up every day for the first week. If there were bad reports I wanted soft-hearted Brandon to be the one to receive him. I know I would just fall into hysterics.

GOD had another plan… 2 days before Luke started school Brandon was called away on a business trip. The Lord wanted ME to do this so I had no choice but to face it.

Now here is where our Lord steps in AGAIN….. Surprisingly when Luke joined a class with 15 other children… he started acting like the other children. Within the first week he was sitting at a table and eating a meal, he was napping ON A COT next to the other kids, he was playing in the yard (slides and climbing) with the other children without adult assistance. It was like a night and day change. It was miraculous. I was so scared to put Luke in this situation because I didn’t want him mistreated, teased, looked down upon (which has been a reality for him sometimes), and here the Lord made this boy’s path STRAIGHT!

I noticed that as he excelled in different areas… the Lord started slowly but surely opening my heart totally and completely. As I focused on what Luke could do, my heart got full of Luke. As I saw him blossoming…. so was I.

He has been in school 3 ½ months now and this weekend… for the first time… my son walked over to me and gave me a kiss. 2 weeks ago he didn’t know what that word meant even though we have been talking about it for 18 months. The other evening he picked up the toys in the living room. 2 months ago he was still unable to stack blocks or put things INSIDE a container. He responds to his name without having to repeat it 10 times. Truly, the Lord is in our midst working out all of these details and I am slowly being reminded AGAIN AND AGAIN (yes, I need to be hit with a bat!) that I CAN’T do this for Luke… I need to trust the Lord to go before us and show us the way.

Luke still has a long road ahead of him. In September 2008, after 16 months of BEGGING his 2nd neurologist for an MRI…. Luke’s geneticist stepped in and granted us one. Within 2 weeks Luke had the scan and the next day I got a call from the geneticist. Luke has a brain abnormality called Hypoplasia of the Corpus Callosum. This is a birth defect in which the structure that connects the two hemispheres of the brain (the corpus callosum) is partially or completely absent. In Luke’s case it is abnormally thin. Under normal circumstances most people would be depressed, upset, torn apart. ME… HECK… I was shouting with joy from the roof tops! I FINALLY KNEW WHAT WAS WRONG WITH MY BOY!!! Now, with our feet facing the right way, with the Lord’s help we can create a new path for Luke.

I wanted to give a shout out to Kay again and also my very dear friends who have been there me for the past 18 months: Stefanie, Kris, Molly, Kate, Christy, Melanie and Sue.

We expect Luke to continue to make great strides as he has shown us that he is a strong, fearless, loving boy. For me, well, I have learned A LOT. The Lord has really worked on me this last 18 months and the changes were painful but I trust the Lord to know just what I need when I need it. The Lord keeps His promises and that is where my faith is.

A letter from you?

2008-11-09T04:47:00.000-08:00

I would like to ask my readers if you are interested in helping me out with a special project.

[UPDATE: I have received many wonderful letters from some of you. What I have decided to do is add these letters to the back of my book as "letters from parents" for the next book run. If you have submitted and do not wish it to be published in my book, please email me at kaybratt70@hotmail.com . If you have not submitted and would like to contribute, please get me your paragraph or letter. Any submissions that I decide to use will result in a free copy of the reprinted Silent Tears being sent to you! If you submitted, send me your submission again with permission to use it in my book as well as your address of where to send your book when it is ready]

I will post a sample here to help you know what it is I am looking for. It does not have to be long-- but it can-- and basically I hope it will help adoptive parents that are struggling with their own issues, as well as future AP's that are considering adopting and need to know the realities.

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Kay -

I just wanted to say that I was deeply touched by your book Silent Tears. It arrived yesterday and as soon as I put my daughters to bed, I tore into it. At 1:30 am, my husband wondered why our light was still on. I couldn't stop reading. Tears flowed down my cheeks all night long. Less than five months ago, we adopted a 21-month-old girl who needed open-heart surgery from China. We were not allowed to visit her orphanage. She was brought to our hotel room (instead of the Civil Affairs Office) because the nannies were so worried about her heart condition and wanted to make the transition as easy as possible. When she came to our hotel room, she was wearing the Chinese New Year outfit that we had sent in our care package. She was also holding the toys and photo album that we sent in the package. It was clear that she had never played with these toys based on how clean they were. Her hair and fingernails were dirty but the nannies had dressed her up in her fancy CNY outfit and wanted our approval. Fast-forward 3 weeks upon our return to the United States; we are at our University of Michigan hospital undergoing her open-heart surgery. She's fully recovered, but the experience was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. She was a wild little animal, terrified of everything happening in the hospital and there was very little I could do to reassure her that we were helping her. She had four things wrong with her heart. Praise God, everything was fixed in one surgery. At that point, in our journey, she wouldn't allow my husband to hold her. She only wanted me. It was exhausting emotionally and physically. We still experience occasional night terrors and she regularly pouches her food in her cheeks until we remind her to swallow and that she will get more food. It took three months before she would sleep outside of my bed. She screamed bloody murder in her crib and we finally put it in our basement and put a single mattress on the floor instead. We were told that she was restrained at night in the orphanage in her crib and so our nights are still difficult.

During our first month together, I used to get in the bathtub with her because she was so terrified of the water. Now, she squeals with delight when I start the bath water. When people ask how long we've had our daughter, they are surprised it's been a little less than 5 months. Her vocabulary is amazing. Over the weekend, she started putting together 2 word sentences. Her little brain is on overload. She's gained 5 pounds since her heart surgery and she's had 2 haircuts.

I'm going to encourage every one of my adoptive blogging friends to read your book. Thank you for everything you did those 4 years. Thank you for keeping it "real" in your book.

Sincerely,
Mommy to J
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I want to add that I will NEVER publish an email or letter from anyone without permission. Please keep them coming whether they are for me privately or for sharing. I am so humbled that any of you would share a small piece of your life with me, I don't want to scare you away! I will always be respectful of your wishes.

Remember, one voice tells the story, but many voices together can make a difference.

Thank you,

Kay

Betrayal and To Tell or Not To Tell

2008-11-04T18:30:00.000-08:00

[I wrote this while in China but never posted it..not really on my usual subject matter but I feel interesting enough to share...]

Does a man have enough love in his heart to love two women? Maybe so but in my opinion, if he has pledged fidelity to one woman, he should honor that promise. A Chinese friend of mine decided to use me for a sounding board. She had began an affair with a married man and things had started to turn sour. Her first email to me had a subject line of “Plotting Revenge”. That got my attention and when I opened it, I was disappointed to realize she had been having a torrent affair with a foreign man and because he had told her that he would not ever leave his wife, she was furious. I have in the past acted as a sort of mentor or older sister figure to the girl and decided to tell her what I really thought about it.

Back and forth we went with emails. I counseled her that she is living the widespread stereotype of the “other woman” and she replied back that he loved her and that what they had was special.

I talked her out of the revenge she was planning at the time—which amounted to telling his wife-- but told her she should end the relationship immediately. She said she couldn’t because her lover needed her; that he never had intimate relations with his wife. I tried to tell her this was unlikely and also what most every man tells his forbidden lover. She said he was only staying in his marriage for the kids. I asked her how she thought the wife would feel and asked did she want to be the cause of such pain. She told me that he and his wife never talked and that he was lonely. I’m sure all of this was lies told to her by the man—if his marriage was that bad, why didn’t he get out? He just wanted to explore the forbidden and keep his normal life intact, is what it sounded like to me.

She wrote me back and told me that in her country, (China) it was believed that men had enough love for many women. I retorted with the answer that her lover had taken his marriage vows in his own country and pledged to love and be faithful to his wife. She confessed to me that each time the man was out on business, she accompanied him at his hotel. She talked about the many times that he stepped out and called her or met her for a few minutes here and there. Sometimes he said he was just going for a bike ride but really slipped across the street to the park where they stole a quick embrace. Our emails flew back and forth with her confessing and me counseling at a rapid rate. Me feeling sick at my stomach with each attempt to make her see reality.

I realized after a few days that I didn’t want to be in this conversation with her anymore. After more unwanted emails and then phone calls, she revealed to me who her lover was. I had never asked but she wanted my opinion on whether she should trust him or not. I know, stupid question!

As she was generations younger than my group of friends, I never considered I might know the man-- but was shocked to hear who it was. I knew him very well and his wife was an acquaintance of mine (the man was also 20 years older than the girl). After that distasteful nugget of information, my thoughts were overtaken with sympathy for the wife and outrage at the husband. The wife is a good person, a wonderful mother and to my knowledge a great wife. Of course, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors but you can get a feel for someone’s integrity by knowing them for quite a while.

For days I debated calling the wife. I thought to myself, “If it was my husband, I’d want someone to tell me.” But then I’d wonder if maybe she knew and was just tolerating it for fear of losing him or breaking up her family. I spent many, many sleepless nights thinking about it. I also feared retaliation from the man, as we knew him in the professional circuit, as well.

I told the girl not to contact me anymore about it; that I didn’t want to be involved. Soon, the wife began to get suspicious and the husband accused his lover of telling someone. The girl frantically called me and demanded to know if I had told the wife. I told her that I did not but the wife wasn’t stupid; she probably figured it out for herself. Some of the times her husband went out to meet the girl he had told her asinine excuses. The girl also told me she had spent the whole summer living in the house with him while the wife was in her home country! Surely someone close by saw them together?

I adamantly told her not to call me anymore about it. I had finally quit letting the whole sordid affair occupy my thoughts and did not want to hear any more. She said she understood but wanted me to know that after a bumpy year of sneaking around and broken promises, she was going to end the relationship. I feel she was just telling me this in case I was the one that had made the wife suspicious.

Now, over a year later, I know that it went on for several more months [for a total of over two years] but has now all come out in the open. Faced with the ultimatum that he tell his wife or the mistress would tell his wife-- he confessed. Now a family with small children is trying to heal from the betrayal of a man that couldn't keep his pants on, and a young girl has had her heart broken after giving up what she thought was a sacred gift of purity.

I have to say, this story affected my own marriage for a few trying weeks. When Ben would say he had a company dinner or a late meeting, (like the adulterating coward had told his own wife) a small part of me would worry that something was possibly not right, even though I felt like our marriage was strong--it was disturbing how insecure I began to feel. I had to talk this over with Ben and let him know how I was feeling, and we worked it out until I realized he was nothing like the adulterer--for my husband had loyalty, love and morals to keep him steady. This man was lacking in all of the above.

This was not the first foreign man we know that has come to China and had an affair with a Chinese girl—it was rampant in our expatriate community. However, this was the first one to continue doing it right under his wife’s nose—or at least the first one that I know of. The others divorced their wives and then started new lives with their Asian girlfriends. I don’t like that either, but it is a little different and none of my business.

This is what I don’t understand.... Why would a man that seems to have it all jeopardize his whole life for a little tumble—but I guess this is a question asked for ages but never completely answered….

And curiously, would you have told the wife?

Footprints On Her Heart

2008-11-02T15:40:00.000-08:00

This letter came to me from Lily's Mommy and it really touched my heart. You can direct your comments to her, if you like.

The moment we decided to adopt from China, I couldn’t complete the paperwork fast enough. It was my mission in life- I needed to go get my daughter. Immediately. During the hours spent processing paperwork, creating a spreadsheet to track where every piece of paper was, the mantra “I’m coming to get you” went through my head endlessly. I felt connected to her already. She was definitely born in my heart. She had already dug a groove.

My husband and I were lucky. After submitting our dossier, we only waited six months. During this time I never stopped thinking about her. Where was she? When was she born? Is she asleep? Awake? Is her heart aching as much as mine? She was in my dreams at night and my thoughts all day. I hadn’t met her yet, but I loved her more than I have ever loved anything. I literally craved her.

The day arrived when our phone rang and our adoption coordinator said “Your daughter’s name is…..” I literally stopped breathing. My daughter? I have a daughter??Yes, I HAVE a daughter. To this day, these words bring tears to my eyes. Our call arrived on a Friday and we had to wait until Monday morning to receive the photos and information regarding our beautiful daughter. All morning, I waited at the front door for the FedEx truck. When I told the driver what was in the envelope he was delivering, he stopped and said a prayer for our daughter. Again, this brings tears to my eyes. Half a world away people are beginning to care and love this little girl we have yet to meet.
Though I knew in my heart that I have loved her forever.

When I first saw the photo of my daughter (MY daughter!), her small body and shaved head was proof that she was the most beautiful baby in the world. With the mantra “I’m coming to get you”. I proceeded to obsessively plan for our trip and her arrival. I showed her photo to everyone I knew and lots of people I didn’t know. If I was in line at the grocery store, I showed her to the woman standing next to me. If I was purchasing baby clothes, I showed her photo to the retail clerk. Yes, she’s MY daughter I would say. Can you even believe how beautiful she is?

I joined the Yahoo group for families who have adopted from my daughter’s orphanage and became obsessed with reading the posts and learning as much as possible about her beginning. I needed to start to find the pieces to the puzzle. Initially, I learned we were lucky- she was in a “good” place. I read that these babies were “spoiled” because they were held all the time. The posts said that the children at this orphanage had devoted Nannies who loved them and doted on them. Whew. What a relief. At least, that’s what I thought. Then.

Gotcha Day will forever be the day I turned into a butterfly. It’s the day I became Me. I caught my first glimpse of her as the nannies were lining up in the hallway with all nine babies from our travel group. My daughter was stunning. After a year of craving her, she was finally in my arms. I craved the feel of her and the smell of her. She was perfect. The world outside of her, my husband, and I didn’t exist.

She snuggled into me like I wasn’t new to her- like she truly had been waiting for me as long as I’d been waiting for her. Nothing had ever felt so perfect. We snuggled and cuddled. We arrived back to the hotel where we couldn’t take our eyes off her. We gave her a bath and cuddled some more. We put our tired little girl to bed and she slept for ten hours straight. She woke up to us peering over the crib hoping she would wake up so we could hold her and play with her. Our entire two weeks in China was special. Special because we didn’t have another care in the world- no phones, no jobs, no visitors, no chores or errands. Just time. As a family. Finally.

That was four years ago. What have I learned since then? A lot. All of which I wish I had known before we adopted. Would any of my current knowledge have changed my mind? NEVER. But, I would have been more prepared and less naïve. I wouldn’t have spent the next two years wondering, “Is this normal?”

For almost a year upon arriving home, my daughter was an emotional mess. She clung to me face forward every waking moment. If she was sitting on the floor, and I had my arms and legs wrapped around her, kissing her- she would scream gut-wrenching screams. She had to be on me- facing forward. At all times. This was so difficult. First of all, it wasn’t what I envisioned a year ago when I dreamed of bringing home a daughter. In my gut I knew something was REALLY wrong. I felt alone. Who could I talk to? My friends, my travel mates, my pediatrician, my adoption agency- I contacted everyone I knew and they all said the same thing. “Oh, she’s just a Velcro baby”. I knew in my heart and my gut they were wrong. There was much more going on here.

Jump forward two years. My daughter is almost three. She’s funny, loving, and happy. She’s cute beyond words. Her and I have done more Mommy and Me classes than I can count. Parks, libraries, the zoo, arts and crafts and more arts and crafts. Every day I wake up excited to be spending the day with her. I’m lucky.

For a long time now, after she goes to bed at night, my husband and I talk about her. (What did we talk about before her?!!) We talk about how funny she is, how we should handle this or that, etc. Most of all we talk about her “quirks”. We ask each other if certain behaviors are “normal”. One piece of advice - if you are asking these questions repeatedly, then the behaviors or quirks probably aren’t normal or typical. In fact, the word quirky should raise a red flag.I traveled back to China when my daughter was three and spent a significant amount of time in her orphanage. My eyes began to open. Wide. Everything I had read on the Yahoo group while waiting for her, came back to haunt me. Good place?? Caring Nannies?? Spoiled babies?? All wrong. In addition, after almost two years of research on my part- so much research that I’m confident I could obtain a PhD, this is what I know- in a nutshell.

I know that like many adoptive parents I too believed what I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe that her beginning was one of the “good ones”. That her orphanage cared. That her orphanage was a good place. If adoptive parents don’t believe this, then how can most of us deal with the image of our daughter in “that place”? There’s only so much a human heart can take. But my daughter’s orphanage wasn’t a good place. It wasn’t unusual either, as far as orphanages in China go. After my trip, I can say with certainty that those babies do NOT get out of their cribs. They are fed randomly. One spoon in a boiling hot cauldron of congee. When the nanny feels like moving on to the next crib, she does. She doesn’t care if the first child has had enough to eat or has even burned her mouth for that matter. Baths? One big tub that’s wheeled around the infant room. Each baby is dunked in- that’s it. Bottles? Propped up. If the bottle falls out? Too bad. Diaper wet or dirty? It will have to wait. The urine soaked wooden board in the crib- stays in the crib urine soaked. No toys. No music. In fact no sound. When you walk in that room full of infants- you can hear a pin drop. Now tell me- how normal is that? Babies old enough to walk or crawl, can’t. Physical developmental delays?? Obviously significant. But worse- much worse are the emotional scars taking place every day in that place. Can ANY baby start out in that environment and NOT have issues or scars? I believe that’s impossible. I also believe that this is another area where it’s very difficult for many parents to face the facts. All out of love of course.

After extensive research in infant brain development- specifically the limbic system, I can tell you that the most important brain connections are made within the first 10 months of life. The limbic system is the emotional center of the brain. A typical baby, who isn’t in an institution, learns through constant contact with their parents that they are loved. These daily interactions create these vital connections. Eye contact between Mother/Father and Child enable these crucial brain connections to be made. I’ve learned that the type of emotional neglect my daughter endured is worse than a child who is physically abused. I had to reread that sentence over and over- I was stunned. I had to research that fact more I was so shocked. This blew my mind. I beg prospective adoptive parents and current parents to arm themselves with knowledge. It’s scary. It’s difficult. But don’t pretend problems aren’t there or that your child was one of the “resilient ones”. I’ve also learned that this entire issue is so hush-hush within the adoption community. Nobody wants to talk about it.

My daughter is loved immensely. She’s loved unconditionally, totally, always, and forever. She’s still quirky, so funny – what a great sense of humor. She’s loving and has the most amazing caring heart. She is kind. So kind. She’s so smart it’s shocking. She’s so beautiful it takes my breath away. Most importantly, she is as beautiful on the inside as the outside. I’m so proud of her. But my heart aches for her.

Let me share some of her struggles with you. She is ultra sensitive to tone of voice, to the look in peoples eye’s- to what a persons eyebrows are doing while they talk to her. If she senses ANY amount of disappointment with us, her arms go out in front of her, she starts shaking and sobs that she hasn’t been good enough and we won’t love her. She screams the most primal gut-wrenching scream I’ve ever heard. I hold her and rock her, with tears running down my face. We talk daily about how we love her ALWAYS. No matter what. But the pressure she puts on herself to be perfect is simply sad. And scary.

It’s extremely difficult to even gently correct her- she’s extremely fragile. She is obsessed with emotions, yet has great difficulty expressing them. We talk and read about emotions constantly. Two days ago we were cuddling and I asked her what made her happy. She told me rainbows and stars that are sparkly. I asked her what makes her sad. Her reply is always the same – “When I break the rules, Mommy”. I also asked her what makes her worry. I stopped breathing when she said, “I worry you won’t love me”. A typical child would be suffocating in the love I give. Her need for reassurance is heart breaking.

Now that she’s in school this is carrying forward. She’s freaky smart, but she doesn’t have any confidence in her abilities. Worse, she is so afraid to make a mistake at school that she freezes. Though she can read at age 4, she can’t read out loud to anyone due to her intense fear of making a mistake. If the teachers ask her a question that everyone knows she knows- she freezes and says, “I can’t know”. If she makes a mistake writing a word, she panics. She struggles socially. She craves order- so linear. I had to teach her how to pretend play. To most children this is instinctual. Due to yet another limbic brain connection that wasn’t made, our daughter had to be taught. She’s churning inside. As her Mom, I can see it when others can’t.

Though adopted at a young age, she has said strange things about her past. Even now, she loves for me to hold her like an infant- it’s great connection time. We cuddle and talk and talk and talk. She craves this time. One day she told me that before I was her Mommy, “No one came to visit me, Mommy”. We weren’t even talking about her past when she said that out of the blue. I stopped breathing when those words came out of her mouth. She asked me once if she was in a big room before I was her Mommy. This was before she had been told anything about a big room- all she knew at that moment was that she was born in China. She worries constantly that Mommy and Daddy will “get lost”. She tells pretend stories to her stuffed animals and the stories always involve a baby getting lost and the baby can’t find her Mommy and Daddy. The baby also always has boo-boos and nobody helps when the baby cries. She is so concerned when she sees another baby, child, or adult cry- she becomes very upset. The extreme “Velcro Baby” label others wanted to place on her? Still there. It’s hard for her to go to the bathroom without me in the room. I can’t be upstairs if she’s downstairs. She tells me “I always want to be close to you”- and she means that in the literal sense. If I take a step forward- she takes a step forward. I call her my “Joey’- making reference to a kangaroo and her baby! If this is what my daughter needs to feel secure after her beginning—that’s fine. I love her unconditionally. But the fact is, SHOULD my daughter have to deal with these issues? Does being an orphan mean that necessary limbic connections in her brain SHOULD be lacking? These are not simple behavioral issues her and other girls like her are dealing with. They are much, much more than that. Brain connections?? That has my attention.

My mission in life is to remake these brain connections for my daughter. My mission in life is to make her happy being herself. My mission in life is to allow her to reach her potential, and it’s her potential that I can’t stop thinking about. She’s exploding with potential. I know she’s smart. I want her to be happy inside and outside. I want her to be calm inside- content. The most important job I have as her Mom is to do these things for her. The difficulty is finding resources- finding the right people to help her. But I will. I will never stop trying. I will succeed. She’s amazing.

When we adopted her, I expected to come home and live happily ever after. I have certainly done that. But what I didn’t expect was to be forever changed in many ways that are difficult to express. Every day I am amazed at how wonderful my daughter is and how her potential is electrifying. Because of that, I have never been able to stop thinking about the other girls left behind in China. They are all little “Lily’s” They are all deserving. My heart breaks for them. My heart breaks so much for them that my daughter, your daughters, and all the others left behind have inspired me to do whatever I can do to help. So I try. Whatever each of us can do, big or small adds up to something necessary and important. Our efforts really do make a difference in the lives of the deserving children in China. I’ve seen it in person.

I wanted to be Lily’s Mommy more than anything in my life. It’s amazing to me how this beautiful little girl in my life has now transformed my life. In the breathtaking daily events of being her Mom. But also, because of her I can do something to help others like her. I’m in awe of her for that.

My daughter is my hero. She survived her horrible first 10 months in China. She struggles every day with the emotional volcano inside of her. I admire her kindness, her loving way. The way she has of making me so happy I could explode. For giving me the gift of knowing what truly is important. For turning me from the caterpillar I was into the butterfly I have become. I have so much respect for my daughter. I’m so lucky to be her Mommy. It’s an honor.

As tears are falling down my face, I can hear my daughter walking up the stairs, singing as usual, bringing me another picture she has drawn. As always, her pictures are full of rainbows and stars, flowers and sunshine, butterflies, and of course, a happy family. In addition to the piles of pictures drawn just for me every day, at least a hundred times a day, she says, “I love you, Mommy”. I receive hugs and kisses endlessly. Wow.
A day in the life of being Lily’s Mommy is a great, great day. And that adds up to a great, great life.

I’d like to share a poem that speaks to me:

“Before your lungs could breather and your eyes
could see, your little feet were walking all over me.
Before you could crawl and even talk, your little
toes took a walk. They took a journey, went far and wide.

they traveled to my soul where they now reside.
With every second that passes they make another move.

With every day that ends, they dig another groove.

No matter how long or how far we might be apart, your
tiny little footprints are all over my heart.”

- by Jenn M.

Laundered Childen from Overseas?

2008-10-31T04:48:00.000-07:00

I came across this very interesting article this morning. I would love to hear your thoughts on it. You can find the whole piece at

All Children Have Rights

Improved regulations will protect not only the children being adopted and their birth families, but also the consumers: hopeful parents. Adopting a child—like giving birth—is an emotional experience; it can be made wrenching by the abhorrent realization that a child believed to be an orphan simply isn't.

One American who adopted a little girl from Cambodia in 2002 wept as she spoke at an adoption ethics conference in October 2007 about such a discovery. "I was told she was an orphan," she said. "One year after she came home, and she could speak English well enough, she told me about her mommy and daddy and her brothers and her sisters."

Unless we recognize that behind the altruistic veneer, international adoption has become an industry—one that is often highly lucrative and sometimes corrupt—many more adoption stories will have unhappy endings.

Unless adoption agencies are held to account, more youngchildren will be wrongfully taken from their families. And unless those desperate to become parents demand reform, they will continue—wittingly or not—to pay for wrongdoing. "Credulous Westerners eager to believe that they are saving children are easily fooled into accepting laundered children," writes David Smolin, a law professor and advocate for international adoption reform. "For there is no fool like the one who wants to be fooled."

Our Chinese Children Site

2008-10-27T11:01:00.000-07:00

I don't know the founder of this site and have not been asked to advertise for him. Since I do not have a child adopted from China *sigh*..I cannot enter and look around, but I just ran across it today on the net and thought it might be of interest to some of my readers:

As posted:
I’m developing a website called Our Chinese Children which is a database for children adopted from China.

The site functions simply. First, create an account and second, provide basic information about your child(ren) from China. You can then perform searches: find other Chinese children from the same province or orphanage; find children that live in your state, canadian province or country; find children that were adopted from your agency; find families who were in China the same time you were. You have the option of emailing families through a contact form as search results are displayed so this site gives you a way to connect with others who have adopted.
The site can only succeed if adoptive parents are willing to participate. If you have a child home from China, please visit, sign up and register your child(ren). Then, if you have a blog, please advertise the site and help me spread the word.

Feeling Oh So Sad...

2008-10-26T11:50:00.000-07:00

This is a "Cheer Up" picture for me. It was taken in our neighborhood in China when my sister came to visit. [She is the one without the sunglasses.]

Thursday night Ben and I went to a Crisis Pregnancy Benefit. Our guest speaker was a man talking about his child, who was born with spina bifida and cannot walk. After he told his heart-warming story, he showed a video. The video showed his child with his little battle-scarred body, crawling around but still smiling and having hope. I sat at the table with tears sliding down my face, because I was suddenly overcome with so many memories of the children I left behind in China. As our assignment came to an end [accelerated by our wishes to get back to the states], I was more than ready to come home--to leave behind the sadness and frustrations I had carried for almost five years. Did I tell you I never said good-bye at the orphanage? I couldn't. I sit here crying now because I am ashamed that I didn't make myself go and look at those tiny faces one last time. The directors came to me--at my home to tell me their farewells. They took the time and trouble to find out where I lived and travel over with gifts for me. They were puzzled as to why I wouldn't come back and let them give me a "Chinese farewell party." The truth was, and still is, that I was ashamed that I was taking the easy road and coming back to my cushy life in America. My spirit had been crushed and I know I needed time to heal--but how I wish I was back there, finding new ways to help the children. I could have done more, pushed more, raised more money! Bottom line is that there was more of me to give. But for now, it is too late. I've moved on but those little faces will not just slide into the background. Will I ever get a chance to make it up to them? Who knows. Perhaps I deserve these constant memories and aching heart. After all, God put me over there for a reason. I came up with so many excuses as to why it was time to leave China but the truth is, I should have stayed.

Kay

I Wish I was Back Here Right Now....

2008-10-21T19:35:00.000-07:00

Me and

My Heather....

Phi Phi Island, Thailand

Repost: This happened two years ago but we just thought of it again and rolled around laughing the other night. I think I should journal it to give me a chuckle now and then.While we were in Phuket, Thailand on holiday, we booked an island tour to Phi Phi Island. This is the island where "The Beach" with Leonardo DiCaprio was filmed and it is pronounced like "Pee Pee".

The morning of the tour, we got up bright and early and with several other hotel patrons, were waiting outside the front lobby as directed. Many different people walked up to retrieve their customers for various tours and treks--but not ours....

I was starting to get impatient, as our guide was late. A couple of times, when obvious guides would walk up, I'd ask them if they were going to our island....perhaps they didn't realize we were outside the hotel waiting and I wanted to catch them before too much more time passed. I got a firm no each time.

Finally, a pretty young woman walked up the hotel steps carrying a clipboard. I felt sure it was finally her. Gently putting my hand out to stop her and with everyone's rapt attention on us, I asked, "Excuse me, are you going to Phi Phi?" (said like pee pee) With a very offended look, she jerked her arm away and said, "NO! I am not going to Pee Pee, I am staying at this hotel!" She was just another hotel patron and I had humiliated her by prying into her personal space...I guess she thought I was accusing her of using the hotel facilities without actually staying there.

"SORRY!" I called out to her as she stomped away. First, I turned red as a beet. Then with the muffled laughter around me hitting my ears, I broke out into the deepest belly laugh I ever had. We all laughed so hard there were many of us wiping away tears.

China Helping their Own

2008-10-10T04:46:00.000-07:00

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20081002/lf_nm_life/us_china_blind

Orphanage helps China's blind come out of the dark.

I loved this story because it gives me hope that China is continuing to try harder to care for their children. Yes, they have a long way to go, but each accomplishment needs to be applauded--just like a child taking their first steps.

While in China, I went to various blind massage therapists several times. I have chronic back pain and was willing to try anything. One girl really grabbed my interest. The clinic she worked in was squeezed in between many--right smack in the middle of a block of clothing shops. This was not one of the raunchy massage parlors that were everywhere in China, but instead was known as the Massage Clinic and the therapists were actually trained. The girl that lingers in my memory worked in a room located at the top of miles of narrow, rickety stairs on the third floor.

Scarlett, as I'll call her, was very young (probably in her 20's) and wore a long white doctor's coat. She was pretty in a simple way, with none of the usual frills or color that most young women in China were fond of. She waited quietly in the doorway to the room and as I reached the top of the dangerous stairs, beckoned me in. She first pointed to a chair situated in front of her bed and asked me to sit.

I sat in the wooden chair and she proceeded to give me a neck massage. Her hands were gentle and warm, and unlike the many other massage therapists I had encountered in China, hers were filled with kindness. Once on the bed, I began a conversation with her. She was delighted that I knew enough Chinese to communicate back and forth, though at intervals of confusion she interjected with her basic English to help me along. I asked her where she learned massage therapy and she replied she had studied in the Beijing schools. I asked her what she liked to do and she said she loved to read. She then told me (in English) that her favorite book was "Gone With The Wind". I was amazed that this young, blind girl had read an American classic and chose it as her all-time favorite, and it made me realize she was a romantic! Being an avid reader and book lover myself, I was enthralled at the way our conversation was headed. I then asked her how many books she owned and she replied none. That instantly filled me with sadness and I was embarrassed to think of the boxes and boxes of books I had sitting in storage in the states, waiting on my return.

As conversation lulled, and the chaotic sounds from the street flooded into the window, I wondered to myself if Chinese braille was the same as our Braille and where I could get some books to bring back to this delightful girl. My mind also wandered to what her daily life was like; where did she live? did she have a boyfriend? Did she go out at all? Who helped her to work each day or did she do it alone?

I'll admit that being blind has always fascinated me. One of the games my twin sister and I used to play as children was "Blind Girl." One of us would close our eyes and let the other lead us around. The goal was to trust each other and not open our eyes from fear. Sometimes we would use a stick like a blind person uses their blind-stick and that made it even harder. But it was never meant to be disrespectful, it was just a game that two little girls loved to play.

As the session between me and Scarlett ended, she thanked me for coming and bent down to find my shoes to place them in front of me. This was a task that would have been much easier for me obviously, but I didn't want to insist and embarrass her. I made my way downstairs and paid the $6 for the massage. I asked if I could return upstairs--now that I had changed-- and give Scarlett a tip. The owner shook his head adamently and said "bu xu yao". (not needed) That was strange, as tipping in China is usually welcomed. I insisted and he rejected again-- but I lay a 20 rmb on the counter and walked away. I hoped he gave it to her.

I never researched how to get Braille books for Scarlett, but I never forgot her. If I ever go back to that city--I would love to visit her with a surprise of even more American classics for her to read.

Kay

Vietnam Adoption Vs. Chinese Adoption

2008-10-09T07:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Ms. Bratt,

I just finished reading Silent Tears, and I just had to write to let you know how much it meant to me. I have two beautiful daughters, my older one was adopted at 5 months old from Vietnam, and my youngest was adopted at 15 months from China.

With my older daughter, it has been very smooth sailing. I was able to spend a lot of time at her orphanage in Vietnam, and was very impressed with how well they cared for the children. It was a very poor place, and the kids had no beds, no diapers, obviously not enough food, but what impressed me was how loving the nannies were with the kids. These children were constantly picked up and cuddled, their faces touched gently - these women really did the best they could under their circumstances, and my beautiful girl came to me with a huge smile, a sweet disposition, and a boundless ability to love.

What a different story it was in China! My baby is from a very poor, rural area in China. We were never allowed in her town, much less the orphanage - the kids were driven about 6 hours to the capital city and delivered to us at the Civil Affairs Office. I never met anyone who had taken care of her, and what little information I had was clearly wrong. She was first absolutely hysterical for days, then went catatonic. She was very sick with pneumonia, and I had to put her in a horrible provincial children's hospital for 5 days. This poor child could not sit up, had a completely flat back of the head, no muscle tone whatsoever in her legs. She would not make eye contact with me, and fought me off violently if I tried to pick her up. She hoarded food and
literally tried to scratch at her big sister's eyes if she came near her. She would lay on the floor and bang her head over and over again, and tear her hair out in fistfuls. The first two years were a nightmare, and I was often very much in despair and second-guessing my decision to adopt again. She was also very often seriously ill (pneumonia five times) and every time she got sick, she would regress right back to the most severe, angry behavior.

The good news is that countless hours of physical therapy, occupational therapy, attachment therapy, and speech therapy later, this is one very happy, funny, unbelievably bright little girl - and STUBBORN! Years of patience and love have paid off, and I know now that she will be fine.
She has been diagnosed with asthma and allergies, and the multiple inhalers and medicines seem to be keeping her healthy.

I have always said that I so desperately wanted to know what the heck went on in that orphanage that could have done this to this child, and your book gave me the insight I have been searching for. It's not a pretty picture, but I knew it wouldn't be. And I suspect that things
might have been even worse where she was - the orphanage you described was clearly near to Beijing, and probably not in an area as desperately poor as where she came from. I can only hope that through efforts such as yours, things will improve over time for the children who end up
there, but with adoptions slowing to a crawl now, I fear that things may instead get worse.

Somehow, having a glimpse of what she may have gone through helps me to stay patient with her when even now she can drive me up a wall with her temper and her stubbornness. How I wish that she could have had someone like you visiting and giving her a ray of hope during those horrible early months of her life. Anyway, you have helped me gain a better understanding of my child, and I want to thank you for that.

Sincerely,

Marie, mom to two wonderful girls

Restraining Children in Orphanages

2008-10-07T15:45:00.000-07:00

Kay,

My younger daughter, adopted at 19 1/2 months old in June 2008, was restrained—no, that's really too gentle a word—she was tied down while she was in the SWI. From the looks of it, it was a common occurrence and the restraints were tight around her little legs. When we removed her socks and shoes that first day in order to give her a bath, her legs looked awful. You cannot imagine the deep creases and awful bruising her little legs displayed. Of course we asked the Director the next day (at the Civil Affairs office) what caused such deep creases and bruises and he told us that her "socks were too tight". A bold-faced lie, we were sure, but we also know enough about China to know that the "save face" attitude would ensure we would not get a straight answer from him. We asked again at the medical clinic in *the city and a doctor on staff there pantomimed tying something around the ankles (our guide was called over to interpret for us and a lengthy conversation ensued. This doctor told us pretty much what you said in Silent Tears -- that babies were restrained to keep them from falling out of shallow cribs and to keep them from kicking off blankets in cold weather -- under the guise of "protecting" the children).

It's been three months and the bruises have mostly faded, but the deep creases remain. A plastic surgeon we consulted said that he "may" be able to lessen the severity of the scarring, but he won't know until he can do more testing. The attached photo was taken in September, just under three months after we met our daughter for the first time. The deep creases are still very evident, though the bruising has faded for the most part (it's still there to a much lesser extent).

I understand the ratio of Ayis to children can be quite low, and I understand that babies may not be seen as children who need love and care, but rather just another part of the job, but I'm having such a hard time dealing with them repeatedly and so tightly tying her to cause such damage to her legs. Our guides in China had never seen anything like this, though all three had heard that restraints were sometimes used, they had never had a family with such obvious proof.

My heart aches for my daughter, I'm sure you can see, and I pray that no other family ever has to take off their new child's socks to view what we did. Can you shed any more light on the use of restraints -- especially the use of tight cords rather than a wider, more "gentle" restraint that would not cut off circulation? I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around this. Thank you for writing Silent Tears. It was a very necessary book.

Kelly

______________________________________________
Dear Kelly,

My heart aches for your daughter, too. I read your letter last night and it affected me so much that I just crawled into bed, unable to work any longer—all concentration shot. Seeing the picture of your little girl’s chubby ankles surrounded by those obvious marks of cruelty brought back so many memories. Yours is not the first email I have received about evidence of children being restrained.

In my orphanage, I saw restraints that were uncalled for only a number of times, but I feel sure it happened much more often at night with no witnesses around. I wrote about the little boy that was tied to his chair because he liked to “run” in the halls. I remember lifting his little shirt and seeing the same sort of indentations that your daughter has, but around his tummy. I recall that when I showed sympathy, silent tears ran down his solemn little face.

Another day, I remember going into the room that housed the older children to find another child strapped to a chair. I believe this child was “tied” because she was unable to sit up alone and they wanted her to sit in that chair. (Wheelchairs have been donated but they refuse to get them out.) The child had slid down so that the rope was much tighter than probably originally placed, and had made a painful welt that I saw under her shirt.

If this was done with absolutely no malice intended, then why put the ropes “under” the shirts? I feel these specific ayis knew that what they were doing was wrong and I also believe it was done by individuals that felt cornered into the harshness of their jobs—and the only way for them to feel in control was to exert their power over innocent children. [Sometimes the children’s arms are tied when it is time to take them from being a bottle baby to a rice baby. They tie the arms so they can force feed the child rice without interference. The do not have time to take the process gradually as we would our own children.] I once asked, and was told the ayis only made 800 rmb per month. To put it in perspective, my housekeeper made 1200 rmb and most of the day she spent playing with the cat! She sure didn’t have the physical and emotional exhaustion that orphanage workers lived with daily.

I am not excusing any abuse—and I feel those that do these sorts of things should face prosecution. However, until the government can give the social institutes more of a budget to work with so that they may hire more help, we are going to continue to have stories like these, and parents will continue to strive to love their children through memories of the physical and emotional abuse that circumstances have inflicted upon them. Change is needed—of that there is no doubt.

Our House In China

2008-10-02T19:03:00.000-07:00

I looked at this picture of our house in China and it reminded me of a funny exchange we had one afternoon. In China, you would not believe the huge trees that would be planted in one day. The root ball would sometimes be the size of a minivan--and we would see a line of men using amazing teamwork skills to maneuver it into a huge crater and Voila!....a tree that appeared to be very old was suddenly just there.

One day after an exhausting trip to the big city, we came home and Amanda called out from her 2nd floor bedroom that the housing staff had come and planted a tree right in front of her window, blocking her gorgeous view of the lake. I went to my window on the 3rd floor--and sure enough, the top of the tree was also blocking my view of the hazy but still captivating lake. I stomped down to the office and told Ben, "They will just plant a tree anywhere! Can you believe they did that?"

Ben calmly told me, "Uh...honey...that tree has always been there...."

I vehemently disagreed with him, knowing that both Amanda and myself could not possibly be that crazy to not remember a tree right smack in front of our windows--- but sure enough, when Ben pulled up his proof in pictures, it showed the tree had been there all along.

Much more than a blonde moment....more like a scary moment....I blame it on the kid.

Here was the view from my bedroom window, I sure miss it!

Another Amazing Story

2008-09-30T17:04:00.000-07:00

Thank you for sharing your story with me and the readers of my blog. You and your husband are very special people, who have been blessed with very special children.

Kay
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Kay,

I am compelled to write to you after reading your book, Silent Tears. It came in the mail from Amazon yesterday afternoon, and I finished it just a few minutes ago...I want to thank you for shedding light on so many behaviors that my four adopted Chinese children have exhibited at times after their adoptions, and that I had suspected the reasons for, but now know that my instinct was correct. My husband and I are the parents of 4 biological children, and 4 from China. Our oldest Chinese daughter, from Fujian Province, was adopted as a non-special needs baby through the traditional method. Our second daughter is from Guangxi Autonomous Region, and is considered "special needs" because of a very minor port wine stain birth mark on her jaw. Our third and fourth children were adopted simultaneously, through a very rare instance of the CCAA granting us not only a family size waiver and the permission to adopt two unrelated children at the same time. Both children were adopted in March of 2007, from Anhui province, at the age of 33 months. Our son is missing a foot and a big toe on his remaining foot, but nothing slows him down, and he has his own Lightening McQueen prosthetic leg/foot. Our youngest daughter has cerebral palsy. She spent all of her life until we adopted her laying in a bed with little interaction or physical therapy. A team of American pediatricians saw her in China, and advised that she would be severely handicapped her entire life, and was unadoptable. She could not hold her head up, roll over, sit up, or stand at almost 3 years of age. We were not swayed in our pursuit of adopting her, and she is now our beautiful, happy daughter. In just a little over a year, she has learned to sit up, crawl, feed herself, partially dress herself, walk in a walker, ride a horse, is potty trained, sings beautifully, speak perfect English, and knows all of our dogs names, something not even my husband has a grasp of! She will be starting piano lessons within the next year, as she is very musically inclined.

All this to say, I can now envision the life that they had before we came, how those with disabilities are treated, and how, very likely, our youngest daughter would not have lived to be an adult. Their orphanage, Xiaoxian SWI, had no heat, no cooling, no running water, not enough food for the babies, and a single cooktop burner to prepare the food for 30 plus children and volunteer caretakers. They were all afflicted with dysentery late summer 2006, that caused much concern, and several, including our daughter, were hospitalized in the ICU. Through charitable organizations, and the people who gave so generously, this poor SWI was able to receive a new well for fresh water, a refrigerator, stove, baby formula, food for the older children, heating/air conditioning, new cribs, and some college students from Hefei came and painted murals on the walls to cover the dismal mold...All such a blessing, and came at a critical time in the lives of so many children...

I have all of their abandonment information tucked away to share with them when the time comes, all such different places, the stoop of the SWI, a busy train station, a bridge, the mouth of a coal mine...but all with the same ending, a warm, nurturing home, full of love and encouragement that they can and will be all that God created them to be, and the family to love and help them down that path.

Take care, and may God bless you.

A Stranger In My Bed

2008-09-27T06:36:00.000-07:00

My husband was due to come in about midnight last night. He has been gone most all of the month of September for business, and I really REALLY missed him.

Therefore, in preparation for his return, I shaved my legs.

I know—how gross….but hey, I am working a full time job during the day, a part-time job in the evenings with all the book stuff and advocating for various children, my weekends are spent cleaning, writing, rehearsing for a drama, shopping, church, taking care of my mostly self-sufficient daughter, etc… and in between the last few weeks I have been suffering through back spasms and a nasty tooth infection. Therefore, I am telling you that to find an extra 20 minutes to shave my legs takes some shuffling of the schedule! (And after all, it is fall and I am back in slacks/jeans and with Ben gone, who is going to know that my legs feel like a hairy cat?)

'Fess up, ladies...you know you do it, too...

So after my luxuriously long bath and a few hours working on the computer, I sprayed the whole house with Febreeze so that Ben would not realize I hadn’t mopped the floors in two days—and I did something I rarely do anymore, I turned on a Lifetime movie.

For one, I don’t watch Lifetime anymore because my daughter says it is depressing and who needs that? To describe why my behavior was even more strange, I have to explain that I never watch scary movies. Having suffered from night terrors my whole life, I have found that it is best to stay away from anything that can fuel my night-time imagination. But there was nothing else on, so that is my excuse.

The title says it all.

Panic Button

However, after my amazingly chaotic and exhausting day/night, I could barely keep my eyes open. With a lot of effort, I made it all the way until the finale and then muted it, (it makes it way less scary if you can’t hear the eerie music) I really only wanted to know if the woman’s poor wretch of a husband survived his being drugged, beaten and left to die experience. I don’t know if he miraculously made it—because I fell asleep.

Next thing I know, a shadow of a man is leaning over me and coming in close to my face. In complete terror, I scream and try to jerk away, only to find my best bud standing there beside the bed at just after midnight to tell me he made it home.

After my rockin’ heartbeat settled down, I went to return an email real quick while Ben showered. I was SO happy he was home and couldn’t wait to just lie in bed and talk. He climbed in and I told him I’d be there in just a few minutes, after I answered an email, updated my blog about the latest sponsorship, and after I took Lexi out to potty like a rock star (that’s what I always tell her when we go outside) and after I freshened up a little myself. (Did I mention how happy I was that he was finally home?)

So, as I raced around getting additional things done that could have waited until morning, he patiently waited on me. After 14 years together, he knows that when something is on my mind, I have to take care of it right that second. Everything has to be just so for me to truly relax. So maybe it’s a sickness but it has it's perks..

Finally, I returned to our comfy-now-that-he-was-back-in-it bed and climbed in, only to find my prince snoring like there was no tomorrow.

As I drifted off to sleep with my leg draped over his--just to reassure myself that he was really there-- that old country song by Deena Carter kept going through my mind….

Did I Shave My Legs for This…….

We only Need ONE more Sponsor! See Trenton's sweet face...

2008-09-26T15:41:00.000-07:00

You Have Asked Me and Here is the Answer....

So many of you wrote me personal emails and said the book made you want to do more to help the children of China. Here's how you can! The following children are in foster care but in order to stay there, they need sponsors. For $35 a month, you can be their foster sponsor parent. Each child needs two sponsors. If you want to help, please email me at kaybratt70@hotmail.com. You can also follow the page tab at the top of the blog to learn more about Pearl River Outreach. This is the organization I was telling you about that checks out each foster home and trains the foster parents!

Lindsey (yellow shirt) is 2 1/2 years old and is in the Hunan province. Her special needs is her heart. Look at those eyes! UPDATE 9/25: Lindsey has just gotten sponsored in Josie's honor by Mommy and Emma! Update 9/26...Kim @ 3Peanuts has asked to complete the sponsorship of Lindsey. Thank you, Two Kims!!

Bailey, age 1, (in the red swing) lives in the Guangdong Province. She can walk sitting in the walker. She can say Baba and Mama. Her special need is brachia plexus injury. Update: Great news!! Bailey has been matched with a family and has been taken off the list as a needing a sponsor!

Gabrielle with the pink bow and sad eyes lives in Guangdong Province. She is 3 1/2 years old and post cleft lip and palate repair. Update 9/26 The Schaefer Troupe has fully sponsored Gabriella in dedication to all those that wait. Thank you, Schaefer Troupe!

Chase is a post cleft lip and palate child, and also has hepatitis B. He is a playful chap that gets the special care he needs by being in foster care. We need to keep him there! Will you sponsor him? UPDATE: 9/25 Chase has just been fully sponsored by Shanna and Scott. Thank you Shanna and Scott--You Rock!

Trenton is a sweet little boy in Guangdong Province, that is 1 1/2 and needs sponsors to keep him with his foster family! He is post cleft lip and palate repair. Update 9/27 The Gager family has generously taken on Trenton as a sponsored child! Thank you, Gagers! (Trenton only needs one more sponsor to be fully covered)

Kiley is 11 months old in the Hunan Province. She is a special needs heart baby and needs that one-on-one attention that foster care can give. Update 9/26: Thank you, Denise and Maggie for sponsoring Kiley! Update #2: Diana has partnered with Denise to complete the full sponsorship of Kiley! Thank you!!

Shayla is from the Guangdong Province and has a missing right arm due to a congenital birth defect. She is 1 1/2 and precious.
Update: Shayla has 2 sponsors as of 9/25/08. Thank you Amanda & Stephanie!

Parker is 4 years old and has Cerebral Palsy, but that doesn't stop him from being a jolly little fellow. He lives in foster care in Hunan Province, and needs sponsors to keep him in the happy environment he thrives in. 9/27 Way to go, Julia and Jenna! Parker will be so happy your sponsorship will enable him to remain in foster care!

Thank you so much for all of your commitments! The adoption community (and a few non-AP's, too) amaze me with their capacity for giving. Only Trenton still needs a sponsor. I would love to be 100% successful in matching the children with sponsor parents BEFORE Monday! I know we can do it--Kay

Does Your Dog Control Your Life?

2008-09-23T10:40:00.000-07:00

A year ago this month we talked Daddy into going to the kennel just to look at dogs. (ha ha, what a joke!) We had just finished visiting with several dogs in the kennel when we were on our way out to think about adoption (ie: talk Daddy into letting us have one). We passed by a separate room with a window, and spotted a grown yellow lab hunkered down on the floor in front of the Visiting Couch.

“Why is that dog in there?” I asked the kennel keeper.

“She has issues and is too afraid to be around the other dogs.”

Amanda started tugging on my arm, giving me the Wanna Signal.

“Can we go in and see her?”

The keeper tried to discourage us by telling us that Lexi had either been abused or never socialized. Hmm, I thought, that is not any reason to keep her from having a family. I insisted we meet her. (Remember, my trademark is stubbornness.)

When the keeper opened the door, it frightened the dog so much that she immediately peed a huge puddle and then scrambled onto the couch and buried her nose way down in the corner. Like a child, I think she felt if she couldn’t see us, we couldn’t see her.

We coaxed her down and with some sweet talk and petting, she timidly gave her tail a wag. We asked to take her outside. Going down the corridor to the outside area was like walking a prisoner past a line of violent death row inmates. They barked and jumped at her; while she did the army crawl as close to the concrete as possible, trying to find a corner to hide in. Once outside, she sat obediently and adoringly stared up at us with those sad brown eyes.

We were hooked. There was no way Amanda or I was leaving that dog in that pound.

Once we got Lexi past the trauma of climbing into Ben’s brand new Dodge Dakota and got him past the trauma of a 90-lb dog sitting in his backseat in a flurry of scattered hair with pee trickling down her leg, we took Lexi home. (we still joke about how we got the “New Car Smell” out of his new truck)

From that moment, she has controlled our lives. Don’t get me wrong, she is the sweetest creature on earth. But she is very, very needy. It took a month before she quit hiding every time we brought out the leash—which we suspect she was beaten with; judging by the way the sight of it terrified her. It took three weeks before we could even get her 3 feet past the front door to take a walk. She was terrified of every one and every noise.

With gentleness and encouragement, she has become more at ease with us and has acclimated to our family perfectly. She never attempts to get on the furniture, or chew up anything that doesn’t belong to her. She has only had 2 accidents in the house in a year. She doesn't beg for food, though with one look she makes me feel guilty that she is only allowed dog food. She obeys me much better than the rest of my kids! I open the back door and snap my fingers and point, saying “Lexi. Go Potty.” And with a look of exasperation, she does it and then tip toes back inside. She absolutely loves to fetch a ball and will do it until she drops of exhaustion— if you can keep throwing it.

Lexi is the best dog ever.

Except for a few things.

She is addicted to me. She wants to be behind me all the time. She wants to lie under my feet. At night, I have sleeping issues and all she has to do is stand quietly at my door and I get up to let her outside to potty. Most nights you will find me and my dog on the back patio at some time after midnight and some time between 2 am – 4 am, Lexi stripped of her jingling collar and me in my Dumb Bunny pajama pants.

For the first 8 months we had her, I went outside every morning before work (in my high heels and office clothes) and hid treats all around the yard. A doggie behavior specialist told me that would lesson her anxiety when I left her. It worked! Instead of having to be dragged outside when it was time for me to go, she would sit at the window and laugh at me as I ran around the back yard throwing or hiding bacon strips. I am sure she was not alone in her amusement, as a few times I saw the neighbors peeking at me with raised eyebrows. We had to stop that—she was getting too fat and I was messing up my shoes. Now we are back to tricking her to get her outside when it is time to go for the day; sometimes with a piece of cheese, sometimes with the old “throw the ball for her and run” trick. I really feel bad when we use that one…she knows that she will be out there for the day and she does not like it.

Lexi is like one of those dogs in the old movies that just lie at your feet and behave perfectly. They say she is only two years old, but she has an old soul. Sort of like the children I came across in China that had been through much more than their years should have showed. Now, don’t get aggressive…I am not comparing my dog to the children of China. But I admit that I love this dog. Or more accurately, I am in love with this sweet, gentle creature that we call Lexi.

Kay

Another Perspective of Chinese Foster Care

2008-09-22T16:10:00.000-07:00

As Kay knows, I have not read Silent tears in its entirety. I am in the process of writing a novel about an older Chinese adoptee and would not want Kay’s book to too heavily influence my own writing. I have read excerpts and reviews of Silent Tears as part of my own research. Kay has been generous and forthright in providing me with answers to specific research questions.

With that said...
I would go one step further and add that foster care within China does not always equal premium care. Of course, the same can be said for the US system. Unfortunately an orphan in China will age out of the foster care system and return to the orphanage and/or face a life of low paying work. The foster care system within China is advantageous but a temporary solution to a larger problem.

From Chinadaily.com 2007-
“This year, a record 10 million Chinese youngsters will sit the two-day National College Entrance Exam, starting on Thursday, vying for about half that number of university places.”

It would be a miracle for a child in the orphanage school system to pass the college entrance exam.

Having adopted two children from the same foster home in China I can attest to individual care within a foster home is not always equal or pleasant. My daughters have great disparity in the treatment they received within the same foster home. As you can imagine, this creates enormously complex feelings within my children. When I returned to China to adopt my oldest daughter (age 7 3/4) two years after adopting my youngest (age 2 ½) I thought I knew – but I didn't know.

My youngest daughter’s farewell to her foster family was gut wrenching. The tears and wails of grief were shattering. When I returned for my oldest daughter I was braced for an onslaught of pain. Well, it certainly was painful but in a much different way. Honestly, in a much more difficult way.

Not a single tear was shed by my oldest daughter or her foster family. There was a wave goodbye and smiles all around. My oldest daughter lived with them for almost 8 years. I can only imagine how this could play out on a larger scale like an orphanage.

Both of my children experienced varying degrees of neglect and abuse in China. The difference is that my oldest daughter has actual memory and my youngest has more of a biological/physical memory. I remember when my youngest daughter first came home and she would, as violently as her little legs could, kick and scream NO at her stuffed animals. It was frightening to watch unfold.

My oldest daughter was tossed to the side when she no longer was cuddly and baby sweet. Most of her time was spent on her own or at the orphanage. She rarely saw the foster family. My oldest daughter had the added difficulty of having dark skin in a country that glorifies pure white. She was made to use a bleaching soap and her skin looked like an old woman’s. So dry. I remember vividly the skin bleaching commercials that I viewed over and over in Chinese hotel rooms.

To accuse Kay, as I have read elsewhere, of being ethnocentric is absurd. What would you call my oldest daughter for recounting similar experiences? Navigating my children’s feelings around China is complicated. But, to pretend that they were cradled and loved in the arms of China would be to invalidate their experiences and to frankly cause further pain.

Diane

http://anyadiary.blogspot.com/

Why Was Your Comment Unpublished?

2008-09-21T17:04:00.000-07:00

Hello Kay,

I probably should read you book first but am interested in your thoughts today. I was intrigued to read about your book on one of the blogs that I read. I noticed the excerpt was dated 2003. Since I posted a comment about maybe some things have changed in some orphanages since then, in all fairness, and had the comment not published, I have been feeling bad.

I have 3 girls from China and know what has gone on and what is still happening there. From a visit last March with my eldest daughter I was able to see inside a foster home.....not ideal by our standards,
and an orphanage, even farther from NA ideas of what a place like that should be. I saw a big change from what I had seen in 1997 at our first adoption. Would it be fair to say, there are people working for change and more fostering is happening than orphanage care now? During our stay, it was the nannies that were the most dedicated to the ones they looked after 12 hours a day for 6 days a week for so little. It put a real spin on the Chinese to see that and was an "ahah" moment for me. Some could care less but a few really, truly loved and mothered those kids, just like caregivers here. Just like people everywhere; the good, the bad and the ugly. I will read your book and since you have more experience at the front line than I, I will become educated, if it doesn't break my heart.

I am returning again next spring with my 2 youngest to a very well run foster home in the capital for special needs kids. If I could I would go for a year or more but I cannot. I just wanted my girls to get a sense of their beginning. We will never know what their earliest times in China were like. What really matters is now.

I appreciate that your website is captioned "uncensored'. You understand the system in China having worked in it. One has to walk gently there.

I am sorry to ramble. It saddens me to read blogs that totally disrespect China and her people and just don't want to know. (That go on about eating dogs and the endless shopping ops) Maybe my ego is bruised a little from not being published. I was just trying to come at it from a different direction. If you could take a moment to comment, I would appreciate it. I am looking forward to your book......sort of.

Sincerely
*Jane
______________________________________________

*Jane,

Hi. I'm sorry that you commented and was not published-- that has happened to me before, too. (since it wasn't on my blog, I am not sure why it was blocked)

I am somewhat surprised to hear you say that you see a lot of written insults to China. I have found just the opposite while perusing the blogs. It seems to me that more often than not, adoptive parents are hugely loyal to China and give the country a lot of compliments. I guess having lived there and been in the trenches for almost five years, I can sometimes be a little jaded. I am all for a child knowing their culture and respecting their motherland---but I sure can find many subjects about China that get me riled. I do agree, however, that there are many Chinese nannies and directors that genuinely care for the children. I mention some in my book, after I am there long enough to see the different way Chinese show affection than we do. I also agree that there is a lot more fostering going on than there used to be. When I started at the orphanage in 03, there were only about 15 children in foster care. When I left in 07, that number had almost doubled. And there are organizations that are doing more and more to get children out of orphanages and into foster care.

That being said, there are still thousands of children in institutions. To me, that is not acceptable. No matter how many "loving" nannies and directors there are in place, you still have the institutional bullies, abuse, neglect and lack of normalcy in institutions. Children are suffering. It is very commendable that you want to go back and help-- I would love to find a foster home I could do that with. However, please remember that working in a foster home setting and working in an orphanage are so very different. For every child that is enjoying a better home setting, a hundred are left behind in the institutions. It will be many years before we can give China and it's welfare system a mark of approval.

Having three girls from China, I am very glad to see you feel protective about their country. As their mother, that is the way you should be. (of course, with open eyes that the country is not perfect) If you have something you want said, I will be glad to publish your comment--- even if it will offend some. I believe in posting both sides and the only comments I ever block are those that insult other readers.

I have said this many times and will say it again. My story is based on ONE orphanage and one group of people. It is different in every place and I do not want to imply that all orphanages are the same. I truly tried to write about the good with the bad--- though it will take you a few hundred pages to see that. That is the story of my perception evolving...as it really did. I would love to hear your thoughts after you have read the book. And even if you do not appreciate it or approve--- I will be glad to post your opinion.

Regards,Kay

Review From Reader

2008-09-19T05:02:00.000-07:00

My husband and I have six wonderful kids, four homegrown and two adopted from China. In November 07, we came home with our precious son from China. In May 08, we returned once more from China with our darling girl. We found both of our little ones on waiting child lists. We couldn't love them any more than we do now! They are complete opposites in almost every way, but on a primal level, they are identical.

When I read Silent Tears, I couldn't put it down until I was finished. Literally. Everything that you wrote about confirmed my suspicions about the facade that has been painted with many Chinese orphanages. Do I want to think that my son was neglected or abused? Of course not! However, how do you explain a child who was so terrified of EVERYTHING at 22 months? A child who has questionable scars around his hips, who came to me with many bruises, scratches, and ties still on his ankles. The night terrors—oh the night terrors. He wouldn't sit on a riding toy if his life depended on it for at least a year after he was home! After a very brief visit to the SWI, I (at least) understood the riding toy issue. The potty chairs that he (undoubtedly) spent his days tied to, looked like a toy—a filthy pony to be exact. My son is cleft affected. There is little information on his lip repair other than he spent six weeks in the hospital. I only know that his ayi wasn't with him. Then who was?

The way that the ayi (that supposedly loved him) treated my poor son at the SWI visit was appalling. She grabbed him from me and gestured to me to "ask for him back." When he gladly came back to me, she was disappointed. He was crying, yet she grabbed him from me again and flung him into the arms of another ayi. She was laughing when he came back to her. This went on for several minutes. He was crying hysterically as he was passed from ayi to ayi. I finally said, "Enough!" I took him and he buried his face in my chest for the rest of the visit.

I was heart broken.

I am still heartbroken.

Is that the extent of the love that he was given? Was their interest in him nothing more than a game of teasing? I feel sick every time I think back to the reality of that visit. I feel so blessed to have experienced what China boasts to be "one of the best" SWI's. My son has taught me so much about love. My son is a champion. He is my hero. For a child to have suffered as he did and then decide to love and trust again amazes me. The way he can't get close enough to me when we snuggle is so sweet. And the way he grabs my face and plants kiss after kiss on my eyes, lips, nose, chin, cheeks, forehead (and any where else he might have missed), touches the depth of my soul that I never knew existed. When I say, "I couldn't love him more," I truly believe it.

My sweet, sweet daugher. She came to us last May as a bouncing ball of happiness. Did she have sad moments? Thankfully, yes. She is the model child for what loving/adequate foster care can do for an orphan. NOT that she didn't come with her own set of challenges, but for the most part she has been a so easy to love. "Redirection" has become a regularly used word in our family. My daughter was used to getting what she wanted from everyone in the foster care village by manipulation-by-cuteness, and man does it work—in China—but not at home!!

Because she has been truly loved, she found that truly loving her mommy came quite easily. I heard a saying once (I will probably mess it up) that goes something like this.... If you bake a cake and you put too much sugar in it, it may be REALLY sweet, but you can always enjoy it. But, if you bake a cake and forgot to put any sugar in it, you can pile on any topping you like, but you still know that there is something missing. Loving the lovely really takes little effort. She has been lovely from day one. She spent the first 8 months of her life in the SWI. The rest of her time in China was with a loving foster family in a foster Village. We had the honor and privilege of being able to meet a woman, like yourself, who has been volunteering at her SWI for 17 years! She remembered my daughter and told me she spent many hours holding, rocking, and praying over my daughter her first 8 months of life. I was flooded with peace knowing that. I am forever grateful to that amazing woman.

Bottom line, there are no good orphanages. I say that with all due respect to the ones that are doing their best! To be abandoned and to be without a mother or father is horrible beyond words. It doesn't matter how state-of-the-art or how caring the ayis are, there is no replacement for a loving family. When I found your site and saw some of the critical comments that people were making, I was so agitated. (Certainly, you were prepared for critical and vicious comments). It is just part of it, I suppose. But I feel so defensive for my Chinese children when I read those comments! What I wouldn't have given to know that even for just one day a week, you had held my boy and spoke kindly to him. My heart aches when I think of the countless babies and children who long for the slightest touch or kind word from an overworked caretaker. Many nights my son will wake and cry inconsolably. This didn't happen with my bio children. I know that there is something more. Who held my boy when he cried at night in the orphanage? My daughter has had her bout with night terrors, but NOTHING like my little son. None, the less, it is heartbreaking to witness. I am so thankful that they let me hold them closely until they are relaxed again. I am blessed.

I have been on a tangent. Sorry. I think your book is not only for adoptive parents, but for the children. I am a strong believer in the truth. No, your story and the orphanage you spoke about is not the only model for Chinese orphanages, but I do believe that there is a strong connection with the general attitudes of the government and the people. I think it is a reflection on the value of life that some Chinese hold. I too love the Chinese people. I would love nothing more that to have a home in China and in the States—but that doesn't mean that I don't resent the way they treat many orphans.

Thank you for hearing out my little rant. You clearly have a loving heart for the Chinese people and the orphans in that country. We are one in the same on that. Your book has been such a blessing to me. It has not only confirmed my thoughts, but gave me an infilling of determination to do what I can to help the abandoned children of China.

We must be advocates for them.

In Pursuit of the Lifetime Channel

2008-09-14T07:07:00.001-07:00

Last weekend I could feel my back starting to act up. I ignored it and reminded myself that my life is too busy to give in to pain. I continued my grueling schedule like the warrior I have always been.

By Tuesday, my back was revolting with spasms at most every move. I continued to go to work and made it through every hour with breathing exercises and wearing slippers—my heels hidden under the desk. Each night I gingerly made my way to my car and made a beeline for home and bed.

By Thursday, driving my car to work was agony. I was feeling bouts of dizziness each time a spasm hit. I made it through a tortuous day and at 5:01 pm, drove straight to the Urgent Care Clinic. The doctor happened to be walking through the lobby when I came in the door. He took one look at my pinched face and asked, “Who drove you?” I told him I drove myself because my husband was out of town. (I don’t have family near me, either) The doctor encouraged the front desk nurse to hurry up and get me processed.

An hour later, I left the clinic with a sore bum from 2 injections and 3 prescriptions in hand. He also ordered me to stay home for the next three days to give my back time to heal. He said that if I hurry, I would have time to get the prescriptions filled before the shots kicked in (ie: kicked my butt). Rite Aid was next door but I think the doctor didn’t take into account how small I am---while waiting for the pharmacist to fill my order; I was walking through the store like a zombie. Finally, $80 later (and that is after the insurance!) I was on my way home.

I really do not remember driving home—but I got there and after explaining to Amanda that she was on her own, I crawled into bed.

At 6 am the next morning, the alarm went off and I struggled out of bed. It had been a long night of not being able to get comfortable. Though I had an excuse to stay out, I needed to get Amanda to school and myself to work. Therefore, I went—with the plan of getting a few important things done and coming home early. Six hours later, I shut down my computer and slowly made my way to the car. I was in so much pain that when I sat down behind the steering wheel, I considered just crawling into the back seat and sleeping there for a while. I knew that would not go over well if my manager should find me later, so I carefully made my way home with all intents of a pursuit of comfy pajama pants, a cold Dr. Pepper, little orange pill and an appointment with the Lifetime channel.

When I walked into the house, I went straight to the back door to let Lexi in. Luckily, I was able to block her when I saw she was covered from head to toe in Southern red mud.

“Lexi, why did you do this?!” Using my loud voice presented me with another back spasm…

Lexi looked up at me with her devoted brown eyes and tail wagging— just happy to have Mama home.

I considered leaving her sorry tail outside to wait for Amanda to get home, but it was hot out there and I really didn’t think Amanda could handle Lexi alone to give her the much-needed bath.

Resigned to what I knew was going to be a nightmare, I put her leash on her and dragged her through the back door to go out the garage door—(straightest path to the hose on the side of the house.) What did my spoiled canine decide to do? She stopped right in the middle of my dining room and put her fat muddy butt on my beautiful Chinese rug! At that point, I couldn’t figure out if my tears were from pain or frustration…

I finally got her outside and around to the side of the house, but she was terrified of the water hose and kept trying to run away. I had the hose in one hand and her leash in the other—while she continued to jerk me back and forth, round and round. (Moments like this make me realize you should never own a dog that weighs more than you do…)

I am sure that if filmed, my little experience could have been a winner on one of those funniest video shows—but it wasn’t funny to me. It was PAINFUL. At one point, I had such a strong back spasm that I hit my knees—but didn’t let go of the leash—and had to stay that way until the spasm passed. Lexi finally submitted and let me scrub her and rinse her. I then brought her to the driveway where she continually did the “wet dog shake” and drenched me from head to toe. At that point, I could only stand there patiently and laugh to myself at my predicament. Painfully bending over, I toweled her off and then sent her to her bed to think about what a bad dog she was….(with a treat in her mouth, I might add)

Finally able to tend to myself, I went to the bathroom, dropped all my clothes in the floor (very unlike me), and showered. I was starving from no breakfast or lunch, but instead of food, I swallowed two little pills and crawled under my covers. That is where I stayed for the rest of the day/night.

I miss my Ben—he would’ve taken me to the doctor, filled my prescriptions, rubbed my back, washed the dog, and made sure that I was as comfortable as possible. Why does everything seem to happen when he is away on business?

Journey to Vietnam

2008-09-10T16:43:00.000-07:00

From a mom...

I am currently on page 133 of your book and it is both difficult for me to pick up, yet impossible to put down. My daughter is from a province located in Northern Vietnam. I adopted *Faith last year.

The journey to bring my daughter home was quite bumpy, but not impossible. I would have brought my little girl home at the age of 35 if I had to fight that long. We would joke that maybe I could bring her home on a student visa because the battle just seemed endless. Although the battle was daunting, my little girl was always coming home!

Looking back at my long weeks in Vietnam, I was naive to so many things. One of those things being the orphanage where *Faith was. I recount stories of how wonderful the babies were treated, made it almost appear "nice". I think that I did this to justify the 12 weeks of her life spent there, and to take the hurt away in my heart. The fact is that *Faith laid on a dirty mat, bottle propped up, hot, sweaty and dirty.

*Faith happened to be one of the lucky ones you would sometimes refer to in the book. My daughter is absolutely beautiful and received a lot of attention. *Faith was only 12 weeks old, she was able to roll over, she had no marks on her head, no sores, complete head control. She was held constantly by her nanny and all I heard from them was they thought she was too pretty to be in the orphanage.

I am learning from your book so much about the cultural aspects of this. She was hand picked because they felt she was "normal", almost too good. I am thankful she received this attention, but deeply saddened that the others did not.

I appreciate your help in allowing me to better understand the cultural differences and unique aspects of life in Asia. Many, many of the things I am reading flood my mind with memories—from the hard as a rock beds to the crazy traffic. It takes me back to a similar place as China, Vietnam, where I spent so many weeks.

Although I am only on page 133, my heart is so broken for the babies and children. Selfishly, my heart is broken for my daughter who no doubt witnessed or experienced similar treatment.

Moments of the book have been extremely difficult, including the opening chapters where you tell of the mother leaving her child. The sentence speaking of singing her last lullaby designated so real to me and hit me very deeply. Sometimes I forget that although *Faith is my child, there is someone very special across the world who created her.

So, just to take a moment, thank you for sharing your experiences. As I am still reading, I am already learning, recounting, and just completely wrapped up in your journey. Ours was different, yet in some ways the same. We both took a hard stand on what we believe in and we both did what was right. Thanks for letting me follow along.

I was also hoping that you may possibly know a Vietnamese charity similar to Pearl River. It is very difficult to find a reputable organization and I want so desperately to help the cause. If you could recommend a group, could you please let me know?

Thank you again for this wonderful book and all that you have done for children like my *Faith.

~
Dear Mom of Vietnamese daughter,

Thank you so much for your emotional email. I am glad to hear my story can help you and others in some small way. Each letter is precious to me, I save every one, so that one day I may look back and know I made a small ripple in the big world. Your story is the first I have received as a parent from another country. I hope others can share your perspective.

I don't have personal experience with them, but Child Vision does work in Vietnam. They focus on providing job skill training to older orphans so they are able to support themselves.
http://www.childvision.org/

*child’s name has been changed for posting purposes

A Post for My Daughter

2008-09-09T18:43:00.000-07:00

Maggie (I promised Amanda I would post this, so here it is....)

I read a cute story about Pup over on “Soon to be Six” blogspot. It reminded me of another Bratt adventure we experienced.

We have our own Pup in our home, but her name is Maggie. She came to be a part of our family 10 years ago when she was presented to my then 3-year-old daughter by her superhero father. Amanda and Maggie became inseparable and I always feared that something would happen to the silly little bear and we’d have to take on the impossible task of consoling Amanda.

Maggie has been everywhere with us; Australia, Thailand, Malaysia, Philippines, and back and forth to the states during every summer home visit from China. Amanda refuses to travel without her. After one eventful stay of four weeks in the states, we spent the evening in our hotel packing up all of our suitcases for the return to China. It had been an exhausting exercise of maneuvering, squeezing, and discarding.

Every year we stocked up on things like toothpaste, deodorant, medicines, soup mixes, salad dressing mixes, books, (chocolate!) etc. I always tried to take as much as I could fit into our suitcases to help us get through another year in China. We would use all of our puzzle-solving abilities to pack in as much as possible while keeping the luggage at the weight limit enforced by the airlines. (Each year we leave a brand new set of scales in the room, I wonder what the hotel staff thinks about that?)

This was a time that usually sparked a few little snips back and forth between Romeo and I, as we both debated what was the most important items to go into the suitcases and what could be left behind. My endearing but clueless husband couldn’t understand why I couldn’t find all things needed in the country that all things are made! (He forced me to remind him of the time my curling iron gave up it’s life on the eve of a very important company banquet and I had no way to tame my hair, and every store we visited refused to acknowledge the concept of a long metal rod that plugs into the wall to smooth out uncontrollable hair frizz. I really didn’t want to bring up the old visual of his much-loved wife having a meltdown in the hotel elevator, but he had brought me to it. Point taken and most of my items for the kids and myself usually made it into the luggage, despite his opinions as to their waste of space.)

Moving along—that night after our marathon packing session, Amanda (then about age 9) looked up from her daze of Nickelodeon television, which she knew she would be missing very soon, and said, “Mama, where is Maggie?”

My husband and I looked at each other with dread and in unison exclaimed, “Amanda! Where was she?” (We always talk about Maggie as if she is real) Amanda jumped up and said told us the last time she had seen her, Maggie was on the bed.

That was definitely not a good answer. The bed had just hours before been filled with loads of clothes and goodies but now was a crumpled, empty mess of linens that was beckoning me to climb in.

We both looked over at our neat row of 8 suitcases and I swallowed a lump of uneasiness in my throat. I prayed her dad was not going to blow a gasket when he had to empty every suitcase to find the bear, but I also knew that it was my job as Super Mommy to make sure that Amanda was holding Maggie to her heart as we boarded that airplane at the crack of down in the morning.

So began the unpacking session. We tried to guess which suitcase Maggie could be in, but after suitcase #2, realized the odds were not in our favor. Amanda sat at the desk chair clutching a pillow as if it were the soggy old bear, her eyes filled with tears and her little lip trembling.

We were finally to the last suitcase, which by this time her father had taken all control of the opening-searching-repacking ordeal. He was perspiring, tired and extremely frustrated. I was becoming sick at my stomach that something terrible had happened to Maggie. While he filtered through the last suitcase, I made a search and rescue mission of the entire hotel room. I looked under the beds, behind curtains, in the bathtub, in the trashcans and cabinets. Maggie was not there! We both finished at the same time and stood looking at each other and our little Amanda with fear in our hearts.

“Amanda, what did you do with her?” I pleaded.

Amanda insisted she had left her on the pillows. The only thing I knew to do was go back through the suitcases one more time. The time had escaped past midnight and we had to wake up at 4am for our trek to the airport. We were all tired and frustrated. A second thorough search proved fruitless and Amanda was openly sobbing and refusing to go back to China without her bear.

Ben through his hands in the air, “I guess the stuffed bear got up and walked out of the room while we weren’t looking!”

All of a sudden, I had a thought.

“Ben! Maybe the housekeeper picked her up!” (She was last seen lounging on the bed, after all.)

Ben began to tell me that I had to get this neurotic idea out of my head that the housekeepers were out to steal everything from me, but I finally shut him up enough to explain that if Maggie had been in the bed covers, maybe she was swept up with the laundry.

I called downstairs and a harried front desk clerk picked up. I explained to her the problem and she proceeded to tell me she was extremely busy, and was the only employee on duty. She said a bear was not in the lost & found but she’d check it again in the morning.

I slowly hung up the phone and gathered Amanda in my arms; her little heart was broken. I tried to console her while hiding my tears, as Daddy paced the floor fussing at his inability to fix the problem. (aka: be the hero)

The phone rang and I extracted myself out of Amanda’s grip enough to pick it up. It was the clerk and she had finally found a minute to run over to the laundry area where she found a lonely little bear sitting on a dryer. I told her we’d be there in five minutes. I hung up the phone and with hope soaring in my heart, told Amanda there was a bear downstairs but I couldn’t guarantee it was our bear. In our pajamas and holding hands, we raced out the door and down the elevator to the lobby.

As we turned the corner, we both spotted Maggie at the same time. Amanda ran to her and grabbed hugged her close, laughing/crying all at once. Feeling like an idiot, I was then crying tears of relief while the young clerk looked warily at us. I tried to mumble that we were leaving in the morning for a faraway land and wouldn’t return for another year, but gave up as we headed back upstairs to the room—and guess who the hero this time was?

Maggie was safe again—until three years later when our house in China was completely packed up with all contents headed for the ocean liner and our return to the states. Soon after the truck left, Amanda realized the safe place she had put Maggie to keep her out of the way of the army of Chinese movers was not so safe, after all.

Mommy couldn’t save Maggie that time and Amanda had to wait three months to be reunited! Amanda is thirteen now and still sleeps with the ragged bear, Maggie. I dread the day she is too old to care about her, as it still warms my heart that she is little-girl-enough to need her bear.

Kay

How It All Changed Me

2008-09-05T17:27:00.000-07:00

Today a woman came to my office and asked me a question I hear frequently.

"Did working in the orphanage change you?"

Of course it did. When faced with the ugliness of the cruel side of human nature, who wouldn't it change?

Later my husband came by to take me to lunch. He is going out of town on business-- pretty much for the whole month-- (big frown). We wanted to spend every minute together we can before he flys out tomorrow, so he finished his errands and whisked me away on his black stallion. (actually it was his black dodge dakota and he also wanted a new outfit to wear for his golf game with colleagues next week and wanted me to pick it out-- yes, it was a busy lunch hour...oops, hour and few minutes over)

We went to the local AppleBee's, as it was close to the shopping center. As we sat down in a comfortable booth and began talking, my attention was continually broken by the ladies at the table behind me. There sat four women having a grand "ladies lunch out".

They were chatting (rather loudly) about things like decorating (one was having a print from Thailand framed for her foyer), soccer games, (guess whose kid needed to pull his pants up) work problems (one was concerned her coworker was taking advantage of their leave policy--ironically, I work in HR and could have told her it wasn't abuse, it was a law called fmla) and other non-critical issues that women talk about when they get together.

I realized (while also listening to my husband explain his expectations of his trip--I can listen to all things around me, I am the All Time Superstar Multi Tasker, you know) that one of the things which has changed for me is that it is almost impossible for me to "fit in" with normal people anymore. Sitting at that table behind me would have been like having splinters pushed up beneath my fingernails. No matter how I try to concentrate, my mind jumps around to other subjects like what I am going to post next on my blog, how I am going to further my goals of expanding foster care, what is happening with my volunteer group in China, and so on.

After my almost five years in China, it is too hard for me to sit and have a conversation about picking out a paint color, or what hairstyle fits so & so best, who didn't come to church for three Sundays in a row, what the rain deficit for the county is... blah blah blah...

I am not saying by any means I am better than anyone. I am just different than I was before. Members of my family have mentioned "my change of personality" many times in the last year. They are right, the family dramas that once shook me to my core no longer phase me. I feel like I am on the outside looking in. I love them all (probably more now that I lost them for those years) but I can't relate or react to the same subjects I did before.

I am happy in life-- exhausted but happy! But I wish more of the old me was still here. I wish every time I spotted a Chinese child, my mind didn't flash back to other familiar faces in other circumstances. I wish I didn't wake up at 2 am or 4 am with memories that should be buried. I wish I could go out with the girls and enjoy that sisterhood I am missing.

I have many wishes but I wouldn't take back those years in China for anything. My time there was a gift of luxury and hardship, successes and failures, tears and laughter, but most of all a gift of personal growth. I learned there that I am a strong woman--way stronger than I ever thought I could be. I may not have portrayed that at every minute-- hey, it was a rough ride! It is safe to say I have a love/hate relationship with the land of mystery called China.

That is how it all changed me. For better or worse, it is who I am today.

Kay

Inside the Mind

2008-08-31T19:32:00.001-07:00

While in China, I became good friends with a young lady who was my Chinese language tutor. Over time, she used me as an older, wiser confidant when she was going through some tough emotional times. In our history together, we were always able to have very serious, honest discussions. Recently I sent her a list of questions about China's children. Lucy is very worldly--even to the extent of dating foreign men and working her way up in her company. Based on the life experiences I know she has already had, I was surprised at her responses to my questions:

How old are you? Are you from a lower, middle or upper class family? What do you do for a job? Do you have a college degree?

A: 24. from middle-upper class(parents were doctor and teacher). i work in a multinational company as a purchaser. yes, postgraduate.

What do you think of the adoption program China has with so many countries? Does it make you sad to see so many of China's children leaving?

A: Never heard about the adoption program. However, do think its good to have a program like that (to open the eyes of the kids), even though i quite doubt about whether the foreign forster families will be good and kind to the child forever. We have built a hostile attitude to western countries through media and we heard so many stories how Chinese students were badly treated in foreign countries, in sense of this, why should we believe a foreign family will be nice to Chinese kids? Are these kids adopted because of some evil purposes? I wont feel sad to see kids leaving China, but definitely i will feel worried.

Do you see agree with the one-child policy in China? Why or why not?

A: Disagree. because its not good for the kid to grow up since he/she is the little king/queen surrounded by her parents and grandparents. however, the one-child policy is not so tight now these days, you pay 150,000RMB and will get a second-child license in some parts of this country, limited to rural area. but since its so expensive to raise a kid now(education, training...), people tend to have one kid esp if the kid is a boy. but girls are also ok now. i have friends who have a baby girl now and dont want to have a second one. of course i also have a rich friend who had his third kis born 2 years ago.

Do you know of any Chinese families who have adopted from China's orphanages?

A: Chinese families only adopt children when the wife cant get pregnant and they need a kid to maintain the family . usually one is enough. the kids are usually from their friends' friend's friends' and is a girl for sure! when the forster family wants to adopt the kid, they need to nego with the parents and ask them never come back to visit the girl.BUT its quite notorious known that forster family is so bad to the girl that they beat the girl whenever they feel angry. usually, once the girl finds out that she was adopted, she would leave the home and never come back, or start to be very hostile to her parents. so until the wife is very sure unable to have child, the family will adopt a girl--but never from orphanages , not to mention those disabled kids

Do you know of any girls who have abandoned their babies/children? If you do, what was their reason? Where did they leave them? Were they sad or not?

A. So far not. girls get pregnant and will marry the boy, thats what happens now.

If you were to get pregnant before marriage, what would you do with your child?

A: Marry the boy, no other choice.

What do the Chinese people think about orphanages in their cities? Do they believe the children are well cared for? Do they think an orphanage is a safe place for their child?

A: Orphanages are a remote part to a city and to people's minds. from what i know, i dont think kids were well treated there, just like old people's home. my father is a doctor and he told me in a "home", old people were injected with sleeping pills right after breakfast to keep them from moving too much thus causing trouble to the caring nurses. after 3 months sleeping pills, oldies die. there is NO promotion or sth of orphanage in TV or any media, its a forgotten place in China.

Why do you think most of the children in orphanages were abandoned? What reason?

A: most kids there must be from poor families where they cant afford or simple dont want. whenever the parents CAN afford the kid, they wont abandon them.

If a woman in China were to decide to adopt from an orphanage, do you think she would adopt a health y child only, or would she consider a special needs child?

A: a woman alone can NOT adopt from orphanage!!! it need to be a family without kids and have the adoption license from government after passing several critieras. the family will adopt a healthy one for sure, and the family will still not happy in the future. Chinese have very very strong passion for "blood-passing-down", a son of their own is everything to them!

dear k,
sorry for late reply. after i wrote down all my answers , i realized chinese culture is so great, but its love for kids or even for human being is so limited. that reminded me of the very fact that Chinese culture were produced in a country's interests, but not individuals.....

Love lucexxx

Follow-Up Email from Lucy 9/4/08:

I can feel many people, no matter high-educated or cant read at all, are NOT keen on topics like orphanage. It makes me feel a bit sad and disappointed, who can change it? like what i said before, its simply a forgotten place in China, people are not interested at all. with fast-growing economy, people have much more urgent topics to think about-- housing, cars, stocks. cant believe it. but thats the fact. now you realise why its so difficult to bring xiao gou a bright future because nobody cares here. im telling the ruthless fact and pls dont be sad ....

Another Perspective From China

2008-08-30T19:02:00.000-07:00

Here is the Questions and Answers from my online interview with a young man in China:

How old are you? Are you from a lower, middle or upper class family? What do you do for a job? Do you have a college degree?
职业目标。
30 Years old. purchasing. my job now is my career target. yes, postgraduate major in MBA.

What do you think of the adoption program China has with so many countries? Does it make you sad to see so many of China's children leaving?
The adoption programe Chinese government has is mainly using social welfare system, like orphanage. The earthquake happened in May,2008 has made many children hurt in body as well as heart. for those survived healthy kids, certain families(like no kid) can sign agreement with social welfare and adopt kids. The whole society is sad for so many kids dying in the earthquake, from the president to root-grass people.
很多儿童的离去,全社会都很悲痛,从总理到基层群众灾区儿童所承受的痛楚,都感到无比的痛心

Do you know of any Chinese families who have adopted from China's orphanages?
Media has reported the wishes of some families to adopt the kids from quakehit places, and many families consulted online on how to adopt kids there. Government is lauching all effective policies for kids adoption and strictly checked those families who have adoption wishes, meanwhile adoption process is simpler than before. 煤体上报道了一些家庭有收养的灾区儿童的愿望，很多家庭在网络上咨询如何收养灾区儿童的申请流程，政府相关部门（如民政部）也积极的推出各种有力的政策通道，对有收养意愿的家庭进行严格的审核，并给予政策流程上的帮助和支持

Do you know of any girls who have abandoned their babies/children? If you do, what was their reason? Where did they leave them? Were they sad or not?
NO. in Chinese culture, mother-kid relationship is very strong, i dont think mother will abandon their kids. 没有听说灾难后，有母亲遗弃小孩的情况，在中国文化中，母子关系是非常亲情的关系，应该不会有遗弃小孩这样的情况

Do you see agree with the one-child policy in China? Why or why not?
You cant say easily yes or no of this policy.China has a large population and with economy developing, China's poplution expanded rapidly after 1949 because of the improving of living standard. To control the population is a must, this is be responsible to society, family and the whole human being. one-child policy is made against the fact of fast-growing population. But, one-child policy made a lonely kid without sisters or brothers, at the same time, the huge gathered family relationship--like uncle, aunt will disappear in the future. 一个小孩的政策不能说好也不能说不好，很难给予一个小孩政策一个明确的态度，同意或不同意。中国是人口大国，随着经济的发展，人民生活水平的提高，医疗体系的完善，中国人口在建国后急剧膨胀，有效的控制人口增长是必须要做的事情，这是对社会，对家庭，对全人类的负责。所有一个小孩的政策是针对中国人口快速增长这一情况下提出的。但是一个小孩的政策，使得小朋友出生后没有哥哥姐姐妹妹弟弟，缺少兄弟姐妹的亲情，同时中国几千年的家庭关系，如姑姑，舅舅等这些社会关系会在一个小孩家庭中趋于消失。

If you were to get pregnant before marriage, what would you do with your child?
this is a complicated question but can be answered easily--cherish life. 这是一个复杂的问题，但是可以用简单的方法处理，珍爱生命

What do the Chinese people think about orphanages in their cities? Do they believe the children are well cared for? Do they think an orphanage is a safe place for their child?
they are the no-power crowds and need more love from the society. many kids can enjoy social material welfare, but they cant have a joy from a family. 他们是弱势群体，应该更多的得到全社会的爱。很多孤儿在物质上可以享受社会福利，但是心灵上可能没有办法享受一个完整家庭带来的欢娱。

Why do you think most of the children in orphanages were abandoned? What reason?
If not abandoned, no kids want to leave their parents. they were several reason for being abandoned, like broken family, lost parents in catastrophe, or certain disability, or the mother cant afford the kid. other reasons were involved in moral respect that the mother cant live with the kid, like the dad have 2 wives, or kids have no father. 如果没有被遗弃，没有儿童愿意离开父母。被遗弃的原因可能有很多种：家庭破裂，灾难中失去亲人，或身患残疾遭遗弃或母亲没有能力养活他，另外还有就是一些道德方面的原因母亲无法带着小孩生活，如重婚，或没有父亲

If a woman in China were to decide to adopt from an orphanage, do you think she would adopt a health y child only, or would she consider a special needs child?
most times, they may accept healthy kids, but love can break through snobbery and is beyond certain rules. i believe some people may adopt kids with disability and help them to survive in the world很多时候，可能愿意接受健康的小孩，但是爱心是可以突破世俗，可以超越其他的因素，有一些人也会愿意收养患有残疾的儿童，帮助他们生存下去

Because It's My Blog and I can Post What I Want To...

2008-08-30T14:24:00.000-07:00

betsy said...

Kay, I just finished your book. I can't thank you enough for writing your candid memoir of *your* experience working in this Chinese orphanage.Personally I don't believe you have anything to defend or apologize for at all. Having worked on a Half the Sky work crew for two weeks in 2005, at the orphanage my daughters lived at in Hunan, I'm amazed at your fortitude and persistence. That being said I also completely understand the many gifts the children and your work have given to you. I understand how the children become embedded in your heart. I know they are with me and my daughters every day.I'm grateful to you for sharing your experiences. I don't think they are unusual and I think it is important for adoptive parents to read them in order to understand the long-lasting effects of neglect, trauma and abuse that so many of our children will live with for their entire lives. I don't believe you are condemning a country or culture. I believe you are condemning the maltreatment and in far too many cases abuse of these precious children. These are the forgotten, expendable children of China. You were asking for (and wisely demanding in some cases) accountability. The care each child living in an orphanage or foster care receives is only as good as the individual caregiver/ayi as well as the systemic culture. The fact that so much was done to present a good image when there were visitors to the orphanage indicates to me that orphanage administrators are more than aware of how much MORE they could be doing to provide adequate, humane care to these children. Of course there is a historical and cultural context that has led to the current situation in China but it doesn't excuse the way so many of these children are treated.Thank you, Kay, for your courage in publishing the book. And for loving the children.

August 30, 2008 12:05 PM

Kay Bratt said...

Betsy, I am blown away by your comment. Thank you SO much. It makes me wonder if because you "have been in the trenches" as they say...perhaps you are able to understand better what some cannot. You get me--and what I am trying to do. Thank you for that. I appreciate the public show of support that you and so many are showing me as I dodge the bullets of controversy.

Kay
August 30, 2008 2:23 PM

Update on Jia Jia

2008-08-29T17:06:00.000-07:00

The following is an update on Jia Jia--what a different world she lives in now. In the orphanage she was confined to her bed most of the time, with a huge lump of membranes on her spine causing her intense pain--as well as being paralyzed from the knees down. Our group pushed the administration to allow her surgery to remove the lump to ease her everyday quality of life-and then one of our devoted volunteers realized that Jia Jia was meant to be her daughter. It wasn't an easy task but it finally happened; Jia Jia became a part of her forever family. Immediately after the adoption, they all moved back to the states and Jia Jia is living life to the fullest in a family that is over-flowing with sisters, brothers and lots of love!

Here is a few words from her mom:

Jia Jia started kindergarten last Thursday and loves it! She asks everyday after I pick her up from school if she gets to wake up and go to school again. One is of her wheeling down the hall on her way to her class, she was so excited.

Also, they finally finished making her braces that will help her to be able to stand and walk. We had to send them back because they had a few technical problems but when we get them back again (which is supposed to be this week) then they will start physical therapy with her to teach her how to walk with them. The week we did have them she would go around the whole house with her walker, then after about 30 minutes she would be tired and I would take them off.

When we first brought Jia Jia back to the U.S., we would go into a pet store and look at the animals. Well, whenever we would look at lizards or turtles she would scream at the top of her lungs and we would have to leave the store immediately to avoid her having a nervous breakdown. Soon after, we bought her brother a lizard called a bearded dragon for his birthday. When we brought it out to him at his party Jia Jia screamed and was terrified. However, these days she wants to hold the lizard and says she wants one for her own birthday. I am happy to say that she overcame her fear.

Meet Maggie

2008-08-28T16:23:00.000-07:00

Let me introduce you to one of the other volunteers that helped to make our team a success.

Jacquelyn, known as Maggie in Silent Tears, lived in China from the fall of 2003 to the summer of 2008. Jac taught listening and speaking English to nursing students at the local Health College, as well as took an active role in the English corner at one of the Chinese churches. She sang with an ensemble that shared each Christmas and Easter at three of the Chinese churches and the international church.

Jacquelyn began working in the orphanage in the fall of 2003. Her son, Jay, came to visit in May and while feeding one of the cleft babies, fell in love with him and named him Bo. Jay was so moved with the children and the needs there, he decided to get his Christian school to contribute to what he called the 'Bo fund' to help children have surgeries.

Little Bo didn't make it but Jay wanted to continue the fund in his memory. Through that fund, there were surgeries performed, coats and baby clothes purchased, and the fund ultimately reached out to help three children with parents (not orphans) who could not afford heart surgeries for their children. Jacquelyn also found it rewarding to put families in touch with Dillion International Agency, the agency in which her sister, Deniese Dillion, is CEO. Jac says seeing children become a part of a forever family has to be one of the most exciting experiences of her life.

Jacquelyn was such an asset to our team, lending her grandmotherly touch and example of quiet leadership to the group. The children loved to be held by her--and just having her there brought a feeling of peace to those around her. Jacquelyn is someone I look up to and strive to emulate--and there is no doubt she is missed terribly by the kids at the orphanage.

Update on Xiao Gou

2008-08-25T18:55:00.000-07:00

I have had several requests for updates on Xiao Gou, so I want to take this opportunity to clarify a few things about her story. I can understand the concern of the adoption community in regards to her status, so I hope writing this will help to clear up some confusion. In addition, I welcome any suggestions on how to proceed with her case.

Xiao Gou was indeed a victim of an accident that left her in ICU for months, recovering from the amputation of her leg. In the beginning, her parents stuck around, even going on local television to appeal to the public for donations to pay the hospital bill. They were unsuccessful in raising the needed funds, so ultimately made the decision to abandon their daughter, probably in the hopes that the orphanage could provide her with better future care than they could.

Once she was placed in the orphanage, the directors have stated many times they have never again heard from the parents and do not know their location. One of the nannies secretly told me that the father had come to the gates one day appealing to see his daughter, but was turned away. This was never verified.

My team and I used every avenue we could to try to reunite Xiao Gou with her parents. We offered to pay all of her medical expenses, but we were told not to do this. My driver, a well-connected man in the city, tried to get information but was also unsuccessful. I tried to draw on my friendships with several nannies to send a message to the parents, but the nannies clammed up and claimed to have lost contact. When I asked about hospital records, I was told that she was admitted to the hospital under a false name, leaving no way to trace her history. At that point, with our precarious position of being guests (volunteers) in the orphanage, if we had stepped over the line and pursued any more investigation, it could have cost us our presence in the institute. For the sake of all the children, we had to proceed cautiously.

Reuniting Xiao Gou with her parents was our first hope for her. Three full years after the administration placed her finding ad, no one had come forward and no one claimed to have heard from her parents. During this time, we continually pleaded with the director to place Xiao Gou in foster care—which was promised many times over but never happened. After a time, her story was becoming known and a family from the states wanted to adopt her. Because of her treatment at the orphanage, we felt this was the next best thing if we could not get her back to her parents. At first, we were told that this was possible, and then the answers began changing repeatedly. While all of this was going on, we were also fighting to get Xiao Gou the medical attention she needed. Every little hurdle took a lot of meetings, phone calls and negotiations. The adoption fell through—because of constraints on both sides. However, we continued to try to help her through her medical issues. In China, the doctors all said that Xiao Gou would never be able to have a prosthetic leg, but we didn’t want to take no for an answer.

After my return to the states, a Swiss doctor came to China and examined Xiao Gou. He indicated that she was a candidate for a prosthetic leg. Many more emails, phone calls, attorney visits, etc. later, (by the lady that took my place), Xiao Gou was finally approved to go to the states and be fitted for her prosthesis—all of this covered by a non-profit organization. After an exhausting few months for the leader of my group to get the Visa’s processed, Xiao Gou and one of the nannies went to New York, and spent six months there.

While there, the man that fitted Xiao Gou and designed her prosthesis, became very enamored with her. She spent a lot of time with him and his huge family—and they have expressed a desire to be her forever family. This just proves that she captures the heart of all that meet her!

Though we have been met with opposition from every angle, we are not giving up on finding Xiao Gou’s family. Brian has graciously given me some helpful tips on the next direction to take, and with the assistance of a contact in China, we are going to do more investigation of Xiao Gou’s case and where it stands legally. For some reason, this child is caught up in a tangled mess of bureaucracy with many unanswered questions. Finding her parents and helping them sort out this awful tragedy would be a dream come true.

What Can You Do?

2008-08-24T11:20:00.000-07:00

When I began volunteering at the orphanage, there were only approximately 12-15 children in foster care. With help from donations of sponsors in the city and around the world, that number doubled by the end of my time there.

Foster care to a Chinese child means the difference between going to bed hungry or full.

The difference between having someone hold you during a fever or consoling yourself.

The difference between feeling wanted or resigning yourself to being alone.

We can assist institutions with their foster care programs. We can help more children to have a life filled with joy, rather than a life void of human interaction.

$35 a month.

That is all it takes.

The pictures are of a few foster mothers and the children they cared for. To show our appreciation for them, we gave a holiday party and recognized them with gifts of diapers, cookies, wipes, shampoo, and toys for the kids. We wanted them to know that opening their home to a child in need was a noble thing to do. These children went on to be adopted. If it was your child, can you imagine the gratitude you would feel to know that they took your child in and cared for them until the day you could take over as their parents?

We can't foster these children, but we can do the next best thing-- we can make it possible for China to expand foster care programs.

To sponsor a child for foster care please visit Pearl River Outreach website:

http://pearlriveroutreach.org/sponsor.php

A Favorite China Moment

2008-08-21T18:13:00.000-07:00

Communication barriers can get quite amusing. I remember one specific encounter, which will always remain in my mind as one of my favorite “China Moments”.

At the veterinarian’s office, I asked my driver to come in to assist with translating. At that time, my Mandarin was mediocre at best, and I definitely had not studied many medical terms that would relate to animals. My driver would much rather stand outside and smoke but he reluctantly followed me through the old, rickety door to the busy office. Much faster than could have happened in an American clinic, we were shown to the doctor’s exam room.

Dr. Cao was nervous to have a foreign customer and fluttered about the room as if he had consumed one too many cups of Green Tea. Something about the shiny black hair, super-thick eyeglasses and long, supposed-to-be white lab coat reminded me of Jerry Lewis. To add to his already comical presentation, his wandering left eye made it very difficult to pinpoint exactly what or where the sweet-natured young doctor was looking at. Getting right down to business, the doctor gave the pup a quick once-over.

Max, my puppy, was very sick and between the Chinese/English dictionary, my driver and the small amount of English the doctor knew, we were doing okay with our interaction. However, towards the end of the examination, things got complicated.

Trying to be resourceful, the veterinarian pointed to the word specimen in the book and told me to bring it in the next day.

“What kind of specimen?” I asked my driver to ask the doctor.

The doctor looked very perplexed and thumped the word specimen in the tattered dictionary one more time, obviously believing the more he pointed it out, the easier it would be for me to understand.

(Things were about to get embarrassing for the clueless American and the frustrated doctor.)

“Does he want poop or pee?” I just came right out and asked my driver, trying to maintain a serious face and a strong hold on my wiggling puppy. I wanted to be sure; after all, it is not easy to get a specimen from an animal!

My driver's English vocabulary was also lacking in bodily function verbage, so he translated for about five minutes to the doctor. (How do six words take so long to convert to the Chinese language?)

The doctor struggled to think of the correct English word, but after an unsuccessful attempt, he snatched the puppy from my arms, flipped it around, jerked up his tail and pointed to his little butt. “From HERE,” he said with total exasperation.

He stomped away, probably wishing that when Waiguorens decide to use his services, they would at least attempt to learn the language!