Blast-Off

Today is the day I leave for China.

I can't believe this moment, the one I've been waiting for for so long, is finally here. I am savoring this moment, this beautiful summer morning.

Destiny is finally joining Wen Pei and me.

I'm bringing my sketchbook, pencils, and a good book on the plane. But most important, I'm bringing myself.

Hang in there, Wen Pei. Mommy's coming to get you and bring you home.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

One Day to Launch

I can't believe that tomorrow at this time, I'll be at O'Hare Airport, getting psyched and ready for a flight I've been looking forward to for years. And I generally don't look forward to flights.

As I'm sure my fellow travel group members are doing, today I'm tying up loose ends, making sure everything is packed and doing a few errands. I'm proud of myself because I did pack early and did all the major things last week.

Now today is a day of peace. 

I feel a calm, drowsy, almost meditative feeling. I've been sleeping well and taking Airborne at night....just as a preventive measure. I've shed my nervousness because even though I don't like plane rides, there is one thing keeping me anchored to that sense of tranquility:

Meeting my daughter on Sunday.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

Day 2 and (gulp) Counting

Today is a rest day, at least a day to pamper myself.

I'm glad I packed way in advance, which gave me time to get a haircut.

After five or six calls to banks, I found one with crisp $100 bills. When I showed up, the teller seemed so skeptical. So as my Facebook buddy Kelly suggested, I brought my daughter's referral pictures, and I saw the teller's face soften. He still didn't seem happy about having to swap my crappy $600 with his bank's magnificent six, but that works.

My crisp $100 bills are happily flattened in a small book. Truth is, all I need are four crisp $100s, but I got two extra in case one or two does not meet the "crisp-enough" test in China.

I can't believe I'm leaving in two days. Planning to sleep on the plane during what is China's night to minimize jet lag.

Truth is, I'm excited and nervous to meet my daughter the night she'll be brought to my room. I know we'll be sizing each other up, and maybe we'll both feel awkward, or maybe we'll bond instantly. Who knows?

The thing is, we will be introduced in a quiet place without fanfare. I really lucked out.
Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

Day 3 and Counting

I'm not sure why, but suddenly it seems like the week has gone in slow motion. It's like my brain has intentionally slowed the week down, so Friday seems eons away. At first I thought it was because I was dreading the trip, which I was last week, but then I realized something powerful:

I am slowing the moments down because I am savoring each moment leading up to the trip.

As a writer, I realize that I'm a reporter of sorts -- recording all things significant and keeping this as documentation so that one day my daughter and I can read all of this, and she can know how much I love her that I am willing to face my fears of traveling head on just to go get her.

Pictures don't necessarily say a thousand words. I've come to realize that, while pictures do capture wonderful moments in time, words capture feelings so much better.

The highlight of the day was getting my money and travelers' checks for the trip. One less thing to worry about. There were these lazy-ass tellers at the front desk who said they didn't know how to "do" travelers' checks, so they directed me to an overworked teller in the back, who helped me out splendidly -- except for the part where I asked for crisp 100 dollar bills. I explained that Chinese officials won't accept the bills if they aren't crisp enough, and she said, "Yeah, they're real picky about that."

To my horror, she gives me bills that have been crinkled AND folded!! I told her they weren't crisp enough. She said, "I know, but these are the best we have. We never get new bills anymore."

Ben Franklin would be appalled.

Now I'm going to be making phone calls to see if I can find a bank with crisp bills and trade them -- kinda like trading baseball cards or playing Go Fish. I can picture the conversation:

Me: Do you have a crisp $100?
The Bank: GO FISH!!

Anyway, I'm confident I'll find a bank that will oblige. I'm all packed and ready to go, and I hear Peter, Paul, and Mary's "Leaving on a Jet Plane" as I finish some last-minute errands.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com.

Day 4 and Counting

Our travel group met at the agency for our final travel meeting. Jane is super-organized with the zillion of forms needed. She gave each of us our own form-carrying packet with neatly labeled, color-coded folders. Even a form-challenged person like me was able to navigate it!

We even had our itinerary for each day we are in China!! Now that's organization. I highly recommend Family Resource Center for its wonderful, ethical service. I don't think the agency is taking applications for Chinese adoptions, due to the massive slowdown of Chinese adoption. However, its domestic adoption program is going strong.

Anyway, I felt so much better after the meeting. Much more reassured, thanks to Jane's expertise and organization. And I'm so glad she and Tom (our translator) will be with us.

The talk about what restaurants to go to in Hong Kong, to be honest, was not something I wanted to focus on. All I care about is meeting my daughter and showering her with love. I figure that it is not rocket science to find a quality restaurant in Hong Kong without any guidance whatsoever.

The highlight of the meeting is when Jane told us that the babies will be brought to our hotel rooms the next evening around 6:30 p.m., shortly after our plane lands in Nanchang. My heart filled with joy at the thought of meeting her one-on-one so quickly after getting off the plane. And I felt gratitude that the orphanage was willing to make this transition so easy for us by bringing the babies right to our hotel room!!

We are very lucky.

Our first night there we will be in Hong Kong. I plan to sightsee early and have an early dinner at a nice restaurant I will find myself. Do they have an early bird special in Hong Kong? LOL Anyway, my goal is to go to bed early in the evening, so I can get a really good night's sleep, as the next day will be quite busy and I want to be able to save as much energy as I can for my daughter.

My goal is R&R in Hong Kong and enjoying my last night of true solitude. Because the next day, my life as I know it will change forever.

I love the saying, "It's not the destination that counts; it's the journey." I live by that mantra. But in this case, it's the journey and destination that count.

And I'm going to savor every moment of it.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at http://www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com/, and her cat Hemi blogs at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com/. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com.

Day 5 and Counting

Well, today I woke up in shock. A week from today, I will be a mother.

It's really hard for me to conceive this, as I've been used to living the solitary life for awhile now.

I can't complain, really.

Rather than stew about the long wait to get her referral, I have lived a productive, fun life that I wouldn't trade for the world. Rather than dwelling on what I haven't yet accomplished, I have focused on what I have. During the wait, I became an oil painter and learned guitar and drums (I'm far from an expert). I've done a lot of writing and nurtured my inner artist.

And I think that part of my fear of parenting stemmed from a fear of somehow losing all of that once I became I mom. But the truth is, not only will I be immersed in what she loves and find a way into her world, she will also find a place in mine. I do not fear losing myself. In fact, right now, I'm figuring out which referral portrait to paint.

I do wonder, will she be musically/artistically inclined? Will she share my love of books, writing, and museums? Or will she be totally different?

She will be her own person, an individual. And the most important thing to me is not whether she is the most brilliant in her class, whether she is the most talented in an area, or whether she is gifted in music/the arts.

The most important thing to me is that she is healthy, shows kindness of heart, is an ethical citizen, and has a solid worth ethic.

And I plan to lead by example.

Day 6 and Counting

Rather than fight again with my Nintendo Chinese Coach, I decided to pack for China. My dear coach will be staying behind and entertaining the cats with its stupid gopher game. OK, these gophers pop out and hold up Chinese lettering, and they taunt me.

The packing went smoothly, and I felt less nervous because I got a lot accomplished. A good friend helped me figure out what items should stay or should go. All in all, I was productive.

And I especially felt happy while folding the few baby clothes I'm taking. I felt like a bonafide mom-to-be.

I didn't even allow my mood to deflate when I spoke with someone claiming to know all the restaurants in Asia and that I could employ this "expert's" knowledge base of all things Asia.

Yeah, my priority is being as well-rested as possible the night before holding my baby in my arms, so how many stars a restaurant has isn't really foremost on my mind. If I can't find a convenient place to eat, therefore, I'll snuggle up with a small can of tuna, thank you very much.

Anyway, my goal is to try to rest and to stay emotionally and physically healthy. My best friend is sick with bronchitis and strep, so she can't see me this week. I am disappointed, but I am much more concerned with her health than whether she can see me pre-trip.

The quarantine regarding the H1N1 doesn't phase me at all. I'm not afraid of the remote possibility of being quarantined. There's so much fuss over this flu, it's ridiculous.

I guess I could go all hysterical about the fact that I don't have a companion flying with me and that I will be beyond exhausted, but after one survives cancer, like I did, I look forward to the exhaustion because I will be finally realizing my 15-year dream of mothering a child.

Life is good, and I have nothing to whine about. In fact, whining is for sissies.

7 Days and Counting

Well, one week from now I will be China-bound -- on a plane from Chicago to Hong Kong and to Nanchang, in my daughter's native Jiangxi province.

And more and more I keep wishing I had paid attention to my 7th grade history teacher, Dr. Blau, who specialized in Chinese history and geography. I couldn't keep track of all the dynasties and thus found the class boring.

Well, Dr. Blau, I'm no longer bored by China.

In fact, since I got the referral, it's been in the forefront of my mind. I had been reading tomes on China, adoption, and adoption in China. I've earned the right to adopt my daughter, as I've been speaking mangled Mandarin for three years and worked to tears by my Nintendo Chinese Coach. There were certain words and expressions that, at the height of my frustration, I could not find on the system, as it is rated PG, after all.

Even though I've been waiting for this important moment for four years, I can't believe it's so soon.

Too soon, I think, as I frantically try to find all things baby without overpacking. A Walmart is available there, so I only need a minimal number of items.

Still, what to choose?

As someone who does not have kids, I'm confused by the vast array of baby items. Do I get the Pampers Super Duper Delux diapers? The Huggies Quadruple-Layer Super X size? Or the Luv's Super-Pinch-A-Loaf-Catcher model? Like Pin the Tail on the Donkey, I grimace and just close my eyes and choose.

And lately I've had a barrage of contradictory advice from well-meaning mothers about diaper rash, teething, what to feed the baby, etc., etc. They have no clue that after their lectures on baby puke, I am even more clueless.

Oh, and to make matters even worse, I don't like travel, which is why the most exotic flight I have ever taken has been to Toronto.

This trip will have proven that I've come a long way -- just for my baby.

A Baby for Me

Day 1

I am learning that I’m a mother.

I am on the phone with Jane, my adoption agency’s Director of the China Program. I feel a mix of awe and humility when she tells me my 11-month-old girl’s referral has arrived and is being translated into English. Jane has Fu Wen Pei’s pictures in hand, and joyously describes the baby’s cheeks as the chubbiest she has ever seen.

We laugh.

During the four years I’ve been in the China program, I’d imagined this joyful moment when I’d get this phone call. I had also been fantasizing about holding her for the first time, with the first words I speak to her being "I love you" in Mandarin -- the way I practiced during my Mandarin lessons.

Now, finally, it’s happening, and her existence is being confirmed on the other end of the phone. She no longer is a figment of my imagination: she has a name, birth date, and history.

And I think back to the obstacles that to my dream of motherhood – a miscarriage, divorce, breast cancer, major surgery, and infertility. With steely determination, I relentlessly pursued my goal. And, now, after a four-year journey that seemed longer than the Great Wall itself, I am finally a mother who will travel in about six weeks to get my daughter.

I get off the phone, relieved. Now I can fall apart without Jane knowing.

I am terrified.

Now that the time is drawing near, so is self-doubt. I can barely take care of my two cats, let alone a child, I surmise. I can't imagine turning in my card-carrying membership of the Come-and-Go-as-You-Please Club. I must say farewell to all the late nights out with my other single friends, and, oh yeah, uninterrupted sleep.

And worse, I feel I’m the only person in the world who is scared of motherhood. I feel alone and lost. And then I feel guilty because I feel alone and lost when this was what I wanted all along.

Still, I’m hoping this is all a dream, so I pinch myself. It hurts.

Day 2

Sleep deprived, I break down before I collect myself and start breaking the news to family and friends, who ecstatically congratulate me. I pretend I’m as happy as they sound.

But as I describe the pictures I haven’t yet seen – the chubby cheeks are a hit -- I am starting to feel a little more proud of her and more curious about this baby from afar. I know we were randomly matched by Chinese officials. But there is this small part of me that wonders if she and I were destined to be together. I also wonder what talents she inherited from her birth mother, and suddenly I have a pang of sadness that she will never know the woman who birthed her.

Despite my numbness, I tell my elated co-workers, and I smile. But inside, I find myself hoping all of this is a mistake. Sure, I want a baby, but I could use another six months to a year to accomplish my goals: I feel I’m not well-versed enough in Mandarin for the trip – even though a translator will be with us. I feel unprepared to be a mom. I am worried about balancing work and motherhood and getting day care in place. I still feel like I’m the only one in the world who is going through this, even though I know the opposite is true.

Day 3

I’m in denial. This can’t really be happening. The documents are getting translated from Chinese to English quickly, but I convince myself that it will take a few weeks, perhaps. After all, it would take me years to do such a translation! In the meantime, I can continue learning Mandarin and continue with oil painting and guitar lessons.

And why is everyone happy for me? Can’t they see I feel like I’m imploding?


Day 4

I start the day online seeing the unopened file attachments – the referral translation and the photos – sent by Jane. Denial doesn’t cut it anymore; I realize that this is it.

I cringe as I open the PDF file. I’m so curious and so afraid. I scroll down slowly, reading the report. With a sigh of relief, I’m reading good things: she’s seemingly healthy, she likes bells and seems like a sweet baby. I know I’m going to be seeing pictures of her in a nanosecond, and I tense up. I’ve seen her face in my dreams and imaginings, but I’ve never seen my daughter up close and, well, sort-of personal.

I stare at the pictures for a half-hour. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t feel this overwhelming love as I had imagined. I study her face carefully. She has an expression that seems to indicate defiance…or maybe she needs a diaper change.

I send the pictures to family and friends, who send their congratulations and compliments about having such an adorable, chubby cheeked girl.

I’m numb with disbelief.

Day 5

I bring the photos with me everywhere. I feel they are my good luck charms. I’m hesitant to show them to co-workers, but I eventually do – to the sounds of “oohs” and “ahs.” I get hugs and congratulations, but I am a walking zombie.

As I keep showing the pictures, I start feeling pride and happiness. This is my daughter, after all. The panic has subsided…for now. At the end of the day, I even show my daughter’s picture to the lady at the parking garage where my car is. She is ecstatic for me. I am starting to feel a new emotion toward my daughter.

It is love.