Day 3 - First Meeting

Ni hao,

Yesterday was the big day, quite possibly the biggest in my life (yes, even beating out baseball's Opening Day). The word that keeps coming to mind, as Meghan and I ask how each other is feeling, is "surreal." It's almost like the whole thing is a dream, it's so foreign here and it feels so life-changing. "Am I really doing this?" "Is this really happening?"

A SLICE OF CHINESE CULTURE
After another short night of sleep (there was time to sleep but apparently no desire in this brain of mine), we were very glad to have an unscheduled morning. We tried out the hotel restaurant for breakfast, which softly played instrumental Christmas and wedding songs and had a good selection of international foods (boy, they have a lot of Chinese food here!), and then wandered around downtown Xi'An. It reminded me of New York's Times Square, with tons of shiny retail shops, huge advertisements, street vendors, bumper-to-bumper buses and (green) taxicabs, and people crowding the sidewalks. Police officers man the intersections---under blue Pepsi umbrellas---but judging from the madness of the traffic we're not sure they have any actual influence over things. The parasol is alive and well here, but in general I am struck by how very similar the average clothing is to American clothing. (I was afraid we would stick out in our American clothing, but while we do----for other reasons like my height and skin tone---clothing is not one, having seen blue jeans, T-shirts with "Puma" and other American brands, sneakers, etc.) One difference we did notice was that the women wear more floral-print dresses and many more high heels than we're used to seeing, even on the street or on 14-hour flight attendant shifts. Some of the men walk around with their T-shirts pulled up to their armpits due to the heat (it's much like Houston weather here), exposing their backs and bellies with no odd looks from anyone, and the "man-purse", a.k.a. Seinfeld's "European carry-all", is used by a sizable segment of the male population, the bag tucked tightly under their arm. The only American restaurants we've seen are two McDonald's and a KFC, though I was very excited to see (and purchase!) a green bottle of some soft drink with bright green and red Chinese characters on the label (yes, the magical elixir, Mountain Dew, is here). Finally, no matter where we go, from the upstairs grocery store to the hotel restaurant, there is an amazing abundance of employees standing around to help. In a single aisle at the grocery, there are FOUR employees hovering around to help, and three workers standing near our table at the restaurant. The street vendors also have this practice of offering unsolicited alternatives when they don't have what you want (e.g., I ask "Coca-Cola?" and they say "no" and point to orange Fanta. Huh?) Finally, you really get a sense of what illiteracy must be like when you don't know the language. Time and again, I picked up a package only to realize I couldn't read anything on it (how to dial a phone card, what brand formula is this, how long should these noodles boil, does this have sugar in it---all completely intelligible). With no understandable television except BBC, thank goodness for the Internet. It is about the only thing preventing me from feeling completely disconnected from my world.

MEETING MY SON
Now to the juicy part that you're probably more interested in. We were picked up by our guide/translator and driver at 2:45 PM for the trip to Civil Affairs, for what seemed like a very routine trip for them, something I could not say for myself. This was it, the day my life would change forever, I thought. We walked into a crowded office about the size of say, 3 or 4 elevators, and found a place to stand and await my son's arrival from the orphanage. There were three other families there for the same purpose, and two desks with Chinese officials handling paperwork. Suddenly, without further warning, formality, or any procedural overview, I was led over to my boy (gulp!) sitting on the lap of a Chinese lady (his "teacher"). He was handed to me, and I noticed he had tears in his eyes. In a moment, he burst into crying. He cried and cried and cried and wailed and cried, the kind of crying that makes you wonder if he can breathe through it all. I felt absolutely terrible. I could feel how incredibly scared he was, probably never having seen someone of my size or perhaps gender, not to mention already feeling weird being in a strange place without his playmates and toys. I was ready for this possibility, but it still felt like a very rough start and it just killed me inside (there's that guilt thing again). All I could do was hold him gently on my lap, occasionally holding my face against his and speaking softly, to let him feel my warmth and get used to the sound of my voice. (He was in no mood for the normal distractors like toys or food.) It felt very hard to comfort him, knowing that I was a complete stranger and the very source of his despair. After what seemed like forever but what was probably 15-20 minutes (all the while wondering if the officials were taking note of this apparent poor parent!), finally he stopped, and I handed him off to Meghan so I could process some paperwork.

FIRSTS AND OVERNIGHT
We got back to the hotel around 5 PM, and Cooper seemed to be settling down. With such an emotional day, we all decided to lay down "for a few minutes" before dinner---and we slept for 11 hours. I guess Meghan and I were catching up from the last few days of sleeplessness, while Cooper was catching up from a very exhausting day with unprecedented stimulation (first time in a grocery store, first time with us, first time in a hotel, etc.). Because all the cribs were in use by other adoptive families, we built our own makeshift crib out of a wall of pillows on one side of Cooper, with me serving as the other wall. I woke up around 3 AM, laid on my side next to my new son, and just watched him sleep for a long time. Amazing how these little ones can captivate you, even when they're not doing anything. And yes, I have become one of those quiet misers, like all new mothers, telling Meghan to be quiet after a sneeze, or telling her she better not wake him up as she opens that soda, haha.

This morning----which was a long one---I performed my first diaper change ("which end goes in front?"), my first bath, my first feeding, and generated my first laugh. After barely 24 hours of interaction, I'm happy to report that we have not had another cry, that he slept for 11 hours straight, that he is not a picky eater at all, that he is very compliant and even helpful in getting dressed or changing diapers, and that he even used the toilet once. Amazingly, he is already forming attachments to us, reaching out for my hands and clutching Meghan when she tries to break a hug. When we were having a good time with me feeding him, one of the waitresses walked over and asked me how long he had been my son, and was surprised when I told her "less than 24 hours". Of course, there are still so many things for me to learn, but so far, so good. He is such a good kid: cheerful, not resistant to bedtime or being changed or being held, etc. I even thought today that maybe the 14-hour flight back to the States won't be a disaster after all.

Well, that's way more than enough for now. We're being picked up in a few minutes to go back to the Civil Affairs Office again (third trip) for more paperwork (these guys diligently track everything about their kids, and require multiple copies, signatures, interviews, etc.).

Thanks for reading. I can't wait for all of you to meet him.