continued from Arrival In Wuhan part 1


Unlike the Victory Hotel in Guangzhou which had beds with luxuriously thick pads on them, we were reintroduced to a standard Chinese bed... let’s just say that I think the floor might be softer. The smell of cigarettes continues to be overpowering even in the room, so tomorrow we will make arrangements to transfer to a different hotel. The White Rose, a 4 star hotel which is just across the city plaza, has beautiful rainbow colored lights on the top of the building which are beckoning to me. Bonding as a family is first and foremost on my mind with our new son, and is the main reason we decided to bring his siblings along on our trip. Should he openly grieve at night, I want to be able to be there for him, which can’t happen when he is in a room with his father and brothers down the hall.

As I sit here typing by the glow of the computer screen while my two daughters are softly snoring, I am transported back to six years ago when, here in the same city, I had a sleepless night before Benjamin’s adoption. That time it was due to a guide who was supposed to facilitate our adoption and ask questions of the orphanage director for us, but who clearly did not speak much English at all. We could hardly communicate, and it became so bad that we ended up calling our adoption agency back in the United States to try and arrange for a different guide. At the time, I was clearly upset by the lack of sleep the night before we met our son. This time, however, having adopted twice before, I am taking it more in stride, knowing that with international adoption, the best laid plans often go awry.

I wonder if 5 hours away another mother is also having a sleepless night. The son she has fostered for the past two years - my new son - has been taken from her and brought here to a hotel in Wuhan to meet us tomorrow. Does she cry, wondering if he is afraid? Does she offer a silent prayer to her ancestors that all will be well with him? Am I taking the boy she loves but knows she could not keep forever? I may never know, for the Chinese officials here have forbidden that we meet on this trip. Perhaps at some future date I will be able to meet her and thank her for all the love and care she has given to my son, but for now, the best I can do is offer a silent prayer to God for her mother-love that has nurtured my son for the past two years.

I think I will turn on a dim light and work on the bracelet I am making her — a shallow token of my deep gratitude to her. It may be another sleepless night just like 6 years ago, but the loss of sleep for her benefit will be worth it.