The Road to Fatherhood (pt 3)

The term is “paper pregnancy”, and I believe that in length it eclipses the gestation period for an elephant.  In dead trees, it rivals the state tax code.  In thoroughness… I don’t think I was as completely, microscopically checked out when I got a low-level security clearance years ago.  Multiple sets of fingerprints.  Criminal background checks at both the state and federal levels.  Personal biographies and statements about why we want to adopt.  Testimonials of my good character (hah!) by family and friends.  Inspections of our house.  Multiple interviews with our case worker.*  Medical check-up.  Multiple certified copies of birth certificates and certificate of marriage.  Forms and reports and approvals by three governments: United States, State of North Carolina, and China.  And an alphabet soup of acronyms: LOA, TA, LOI, LID, etc.  This is all to the good, and I’m glad that everybody concerned is making such efforts to ensure that the children are going into good families where they will be cherished and well cared for.  But the time spent can be a little frustrating.  I got accustomed to “hurry up and wait” in the military, but even they haven’t perfected it to such a degree as this!

All this being said, the process is – I think! – really not that dissimilar to what a man goes through when he learns that his wife is pregnant.  OK, I haven’t had to deal with hormones and weird cravings (well, no weirder than normal), but there is the dawning realization that This Is Happening, that in the near future there will be a child in the family.  There’s the choosing of the name.  There’s medical information.  We’ve met with a pediatrician.  Just as most fathers see an ultrasound of their child before birth, we also have gotten to see photos.  I won’t say it was Love at First Sight, but it was something very like.  I look at her photos (not counting the framed one on my desk and the other that is my desktop background) several times each day.  I read and reread her packet, trying to glean anything I can about what she’s like.  I’ve concluded that she’s absolutely beautiful, almost perfect in every way.  Despite the likelihood that our first days – perhaps weeks – together will be filled with screaming or near-catatonia or both (and who knows how she'll deal with it all), I can’t wait to see her.  I’m told that this is absolutely normal for the expectant father, though I confess that I wonder at the ability – especially MY ability – to love a little girl that I’ve never met.  It would be of some interest to test my blood oxytocin levels when I look at photos of her.

Choosing our daughter’s name has been a bit of a journey of its own.  My wife and I have rather similar tastes in this area, so there were no squabbles because one of us wanted to call her “Jane” and the other “Tequila Sunrise”.  We wanted a name that was neither bizarre nor excessively common.  We settled fairly quickly on Caroline and chose Quinn for the middle name.  These are not family names.  We then selected a third name to honor her Chinese heritage: Měi (美).  This is a commonly used for girls in China as it means “beautiful”.  It is also part of how the name of our country is rendered into Mandarin: Měi Guó (“Beautiful Country”, 美国).  This went well enough until the happy day when we were matched and learned that the name given her by the orphanage was Xiàohuì (肖慧).  We thought that this was not only rather pretty, but also learned that huì (慧)means “intelligent”: PERFECT!  However, Caroline Quinn Mei Xiao-hui (we weren’t clear on how Chinese names are rendered into English at that time) seemed a bit… long.  I had visions of being angry and, by the time I got “CAROLINE QUINN MEI XIAO-HUI R-, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!” out of my mouth, I would have completely forgotten WHY I wanted her in here right now.  Unfortunately, we could not quite bring ourselves to part with any of it; the compromise was to make Quinnmei into a single name, as we found that Xiaohui likewise is.

Perhaps I should say a word about why we didn’t just keep the name given her in China.  This is sometimes done, especially by parents who adopt older children who have grown accustomed to their names.  It is more common in the case of a young children, I think, to do as we have done and keep the Chinese name as a middle name.  I have read that some adoptees like that their parents keep the Chinese name as it is a connection to their birth culture, while others dislike it and prefer an “American” name** that not only makes them “like everybody else” but is also a connection to their parents rather than to China.  It may be that Caroline will never use Xiaohui in her life.  However, it may be that, when she turns fourteen and decides that she hates us because YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!!!, she will want to be called Xiaohui and NOT Caroline.  Only time will tell.

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(*) I nearly caused at least one fatality if not an outright homocide during our first interview with our case worker.  We were both in his office (subsequent interviews were done individually), and the first question was, “Jim, you’ve written that you have concerns about your ability to be a father.  Can you tell me more about it?  Why do you think that?”

I immediately replied, “Because I’m an a$$hole.”

I think it safe to say that my wife couldn’t decide at that moment whether to kill me on the spot or drop dead of a combined stroke and heart attack.  My mother had no such dilemma: she informed me that, had she been able to get her hands on me at that moment, my life on this earth would have come to a quick, violent end.  Honesty is the best policy… BAH!

Happily, our case worker has the same personality profile as myself, understood my attitude, and we got along quite well.  As he has three daughters of his own, it was very useful to me to talk to him about Fatherhood.

(**) What is an “American” name, anyway?  Jane?  Selena?  Colleen?  Gabrielle?  Adriana?  Katarina?  Fatima?  Priya?  Lihua?  Machiko?  Answer: they all are, though admittedly they may be more popular in some parts of the country than in others.  One thing that has been brought pretty clearly into focus for me is that our country really is a melting pot, and people of just about every race, color, ethnicity or origin on the planet call themselves “American”.

What's in a word?

As we've gone through the process of adoption, we've encountered a curious thing: common words begin to take on whole new meanings.  I might even say that they take on troubling meanings.  Let's start with an easy one: "real".  According to Merriam-Webster*:

 

real (adj): actually existing or happening; not imaginary; not fake, false, or artificial

 

"That's a real diamond!" or "That's a real, live elephant!"  We use this word in English all the time.  We know exactly what it means.  So...

 

"Who are your real parents?"

 

For the adoptive family, this sentence can present a problem.  It may be uttered by the well-intentioned if somewhat tactless person who is interested in knowing if the adopted child knows who his BIOLOGICAL parents are.  They mean, "Do you know the woman who gave you birth?  The man who is your biological father?" For most adoptees, the answer is - and likely always will be - no.  But what should the child say?  Who are their REAL parents?  Obviously, my wife and I will regard ourselves as the REAL - actually existing, not imaginary or fake, false or artificial - parents of our child(ren).  We hope that she / they will feel the same way, that they are our REAL children.  We expect that there will be questions about the biological parents; this is only natural.  We plan, as our child(ren) grows old enough to question and understand, to discuss all this.

 

We didn't start out expecting trouble with the word "real".

Another word that takes on a different - and distinctly unpleasant - meaning is "lucky".  Children adopted from China are often called "lucky" both by Chinese and by people in the adoptive country.  "You're so lucky you were adopted!" Again, most people who say these things are well-intentioned.  But what does lucky REALLY mean?  What's behind all this supposed luck?

The children are abandoned.  The first and most important relationship in their lives - with the people who conceived them and brought them into the world - is severed, often (but not always) very soon after birth**.  They then become orphans: even their names are (usually) given them by a bureaucrat, not a loving parent***.  If they are "lucky", they go into a well-equipped and well-staffed orphanage.  If they are very "lucky", they go into a loving foster family.  Lucky... they come to know a woman and man as "mama" and "baba", and perhaps even have a jiejie (big sister) or gege (big brother).  Then, if they are VERY "lucky", all this, like the nascent family into which they were born, is torn apart as they are ripped out of the foster family or orphanage that is home to them, shoved into the arms of strangers, and jetted off to a faraway country where nobody looks, speaks, smells or acts in ways that they find familiar and comforting.

This is "lucky".

Yes, I know: luck is a relative thing.  The child adopted into a well-to-do family is very likely better off than a child left to grow up in an orphanage, even a very good one.  But, at the beginning of it all, the "lucky" child lost her family.  ALL of it.  There are no parents, no siblings, no aunts or uncles or grandparents, nothing.  No photos, no videos, no memories.

Lucky...

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(*) http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/real

(**) In the documentary "Somewhere Between", one of the adopted girls discusses that fact that she was abandoned when she was about five years old and REMEMBERS her biological parents.

"Somewhere Between" (2011)

dir. Linda Goldstein Knowlton

http://www.somewherebetweenmovie.com/

 

(***)  For example, our daughter's name in China was given her by her orphanage.  Her "family" name is taken from the city where she was found.  The first part of her name was given to every child taken in during that month.  Only the second part of her name is unique to her.  Imagine calling a child February Jane St. Louis or December Susan Seattle.

The Road to Fatherhood (pt 2)

As I have written, I can’t quite put my finger on the day when I first trod the Road to Fatherhood.  I knew that I was unquestionably on it on the day that I caught myself… looking at reviews for minivans (the horror!).  I hasten to add that it’s not unusual for a man of my age to look at cars with a younger woman in mind, but the cars are usually rather sportier and the woman are generally a good bit older!

 

Minivans are only one of many things that I have found myself thinking about for the first time in my life.  My wife and I did quite a lot of research, for example, on the public schools in our area; naturally, we wanted to be in the best district possible.  The fact that our daughter is Chinese added another wrinkle to this: we were told that it would be highly desirable for her to be in a school with the greatest possible ethnic diversity – ideally the highest fraction of Asian students – that we could find.  To the extent that I’d ever thought about the public school system at all, it was to grumble that I had to pay taxes to support it and REALLY grumble that it doesn’t seem to perform very well.  Indeed, my reflexive dissatisfaction with the public schools was so profound that we looked into the various private schools in the area.  I had no conception of how expensive they could be: one can send a child to a good – even top-ranked – college for the cost of tuition in some of our area’s private grammar and high schools.  We also toyed with the idea of home schooling, and indeed we will likely do what some of what our friends call “Mommy-Daddy School”, which is basically supplemental classes after school to ensure that our daughter learns all the things that we think she ought to know.  We can’t afford to home school as both of us need to work.  I might add that there have also been a few highly unjust suggestions that I might be a bit too hard on my daughter as a teacher, though I think it’s perfectly reasonable to (for example) expect a seven year-old to be able to do basic calculus and discuss the causes of the First World War.

 

Race, ethnicity, and culture have also occupied my thoughts a great deal.  I have always taken Theodore Roosevelt’s position that there is no room in our country for “hyphenated Americans”.  However, I recall a Chinese-American friend of mine in grad school telling me that this is easy for white people to say, and further reading and research indicates that she had an excellent point.  Imagine being a seven year-old Chinese girl… and the only dolls available in the toy store have blonde hair and blue eyes.  Imagine being a twelve year-old Chinese girl… and people ask you to speak Chinese though you’ve grown up speaking nothing but English.  Imagine being a fifteen year-old Chinese girl… and people asking, “No, where are you FROM?” as if it’s impossible for a Chinese girl to be from North Carolina*.  Imagine being a college-aged Chinese girl… with little or nothing in common with the other students who are either from China or are of Chinese descent.  We know that some children have problems with these things.  There’s even a cute little term for it: “twinkie” or “banana”, which is to say yellow on the outside, white on the inside.  How shall I help my daughter if she has those problems? (I have it on good authority that beating the hell out of people who bother her is much frowned-upon by the police)

 

Naturally, I don’t ONLY think about potential problems.  I enjoy spending time thinking about things we might do together.  My wife and I like to travel, so I have pleasant expectations of taking our daughter snorkeling in the Caribbean, or hiking in the mountains of North Carolina, or to see a show on Broadway, or taking a walking tour of Italy or Spain or Romania.  Then there are soccer games or tumbling or school plays or cheerleading or softball or just watching movies with her.  The Road to Fatherhood promises to have its potholes, but I’m very hopeful that it will be a great trip.

 

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(*) Obviously, we wonder how we will answer this question.  Our daughter is FROM Wuhan, Hubei Province, China.  At least, that’s where she was found and where we will adopt her from, but she will grow up as a North Carolina girl.  Somewhat tricky question…

Sunday Snapshot:   Miss Paige

Jim has always tried to spend time with his niece Paige and since we got married 5 years ago I've joined in as well.  Today was a girls only outing.  We went to get our hair done.  Paige was getting a hair makeover and she was super excited.

Here are some photos I've taken of Paige over the last month: 

As you can see, there was nothing per se wrong with her hair.  She just wanted to play around.

Here's the before from today:

 

I decided to document the progress of the transformation!

 

 





 

Almost finished!



 

THE RESULT:  FUN & SOPHISTICATED

 

We can't wait for Caroline and Paige to meet.  We know there are going to instant buddies and Caroline will be begging to go visit her at College.

We love you Paige!

Special thanks to my long time hairdresser Stephanie Frye!

Hooking up with Sunday Snapshot.

The Road to Fatherhood (pt 1)

I am not sure when I realized that I was on the Road to Fatherhood.  Really, it was rather like the feeling one gets when driving along and suddenly realizes that he’s totally lost… er… on an unfamiliar road: “How did I get HERE?” The Road stretches on before me, destination unknown.  But, upon reflection, fatherhood isn’t about the destination: it’s about the journey.

Fasten your seatbelt: it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

I am a chemist by training and a quality control chemist by profession.  In chemistry as in math, physics, and the other hard sciences, there is generally one correct solution to a given problem, and the world (outside the realm of research) runs on predictable lines.  Even the most complex, difficult goal can be achieved by establishing, following, and optimizing a process, a set of tasks done in a predetermined sequence.  Get the process right, and the desired outcome will inevitably follow.

Raising a child… doesn’t seem to work that way.

Once I discovered that I was on the Road, I did what years of schooling taught me to do: RESEARCH.  I started reading books and articles about fatherhood.  I asked my father and brother.  I asked friends.  “HOW DOES THIS WORK?  WHAT DO I DO?”

Very quickly, a basic concept emerged:

Merely showing up will get you a solid C+.

This was a very unsatisfactory conclusion: there MUST be more to it.  I began to sweat over the idea that there would be some specific instance, some single moment in time, where I would say or do the wrong thing (or NOT say or do the RIGHT thing) and BANG!  My daughter’s life would be irretrievably ruined.  Goodbye PhD, hello heroin-addicted pole dancer.  Like a good chemist, I began to go through various scenarios, lots of “what-if’s”.  I talked these over with family and friends.  The response was pretty uniform:

You can’t really plan or predict any of this.  All you can do is do your best.

Well!  One doesn’t send a chemist into the lab to synthesize a compound or analyze an unknown substance with nothing more than a cheery “Do your best!”.  There are… there are… Procedures!  Methods!  Systems!  Processes!  Standards!  Calibrations!  In-process tests and inspections!  A + B = C!  If one follows steps 1 – 28 in a competent manner, then the outcome – the PREDICTABLE outcome – will occur.

By this point, people were starting to worry about me, but I finally grasped the Truth about Fatherhood that they had all being trying to tell me:

Merely showing up will get you a solid A-.

I will do my best.  I will try to anticipate, plan for, guard against, the bumps that might occur in my daughter’s life.  I will read and study and research to try to understand what she’s going through at different points in her life.  I might even talk to her… Novel thought… 

But I have learned (I think!) that a little girl wants less a father who’s got all the answers and more of a father who loves and cherishes her, who does his best to care for her, and who… shows up.  If I can do that… a solid A-.

That’s a better grade than I got in organic!

Caroline's Room

     We are so excited about being matched with our little girl.  She will be 15 months old next Friday.  The wait to bring her home is so hard, but I know once we get her home it will all be worth it.  We hope to have LOA by the end of February. 

 

     Just so you know, Adoptive Moms nest too.  I've been obsessing over Caroline's bedroom for a couple months now.  I want it to be perfect.  I try to think about what I liked as a child.  When I first started to plan Caroline's room I thought I would paint it aqua blue, but then when we moved to the new house the bedroom was such as nice shade of green.  My bedroom was actually a similar shade of green when I was a toddler.  It seemed perfect to leave it that color.

 

     Even before we decided to adopt, Jim's aunt gave him the twin beds that she and his Dad slept on almost 70 years ago.  When we were LID waiting for a match we decided to use the beds in Caroline's room.  If she ever has a sister there is a bed for her too.  Jim's Mom was gracious enough to paint them white to match the dresser which we took from our guest room.  I wanted the pulls on the dresser to be a little more whimsical so I changed them out for pink crystal style flower pulls which happen to match the bright pink curtains that adorn the windows and the closet.

     Then I obsessed over the bedding.  Luckily my Mother-In-Law loves to quilt so I picked our some fund material and she sewed the quilts.  By the way, if you are interested, she does sell her quilts and they are very high quality. 

  Jim insisted that we put her name on the wall, so we looked and looked for the perfect decal.  We loved this one because it added another color to the room.

  And of course, no child's room is complete without toys and a play area.  Caroline is lucky she has a large bedroom that she will have to herself for at least a while.  Mama and Baba hope that she will have a meimei (little sister) to share it with one day.

 

 

  We really hope Caroline loves her bedroom.  We know our dog Mallory does.  We have to keep the door closed most of the time to keep her out.  Mallory thinks that the bedroom belongs to her and I've caught her a couple times trying to snatch a stuffed animal.  We think Mallory is going to love having a toddler in the house and will spend lots of time in Caroline's bedroom playing and loving on her just like we will.

 

 

 

 

 

 







FINALLY!!!!!

We are DTC (Dossier to China). We have been working toward this for 9 1/2 months and we finally got the good news today.  We are praying that it is only a short wait until we are matched with our little girl.