January 13,2007

When we left Wuhan for the first time with Ben back in October 2000, the tears started flowing and wouldn't stop as we went through security at the airport. All I could think of was that I was taking my son from everything he had ever known.

Seeing how he had no language opportunities in the orphanage being deaf, and obviously had no family, I knew he had a brighter future ahead, but a part of me still felt as if I was wrongfully taking him from his heritage, culture and homeland. Reading from adult adoptees' perspectives who were adopted internationally, there is much truth to the fact that they lost a part of themselves. In an ideal world, there would be no adoption. All children would be able to stay with and be raised by their birthparents and never have to confront the grief and loss issues that adoptees face as they grow up. But then, in an ideal world, there would also be no poverty, no abuse, no hunger, no premature death...the list is endless.

This time around with Caleb's adoption, I felt a twinge of sadness as we flew from Wuhan, but since he had already left his birthcity, Yichang, I felt more of the worry and guilt the night before we adopted him than when we left the Hubei Province.

Now, as we landed in Guangzhou from Beijing and were readying to fly back to the United States, many of those feelings came flooding back. Again, I knew that Caleb had a much better life ahead of him. Having spent most of his life in an institution couldn't have been good for him. He did have some time with a foster family who taught him how families worked--and to them I will be eternally grateful--but for the most part, his life consisted of a daily "survival of the fittest." He shared with us via one of our guides how he was so happy to be leaving the orphanage because the older and bigger boys picked on him on a regular basis.

This time, however, I wasn't leaving the country with a 4 year old who didn't speak Chinese nor understand much of his culture. I was leaving with an 11 year old who was fully ensconced in everything Chinese, from food to language to history and culture.

I reflected on how we had promised government officials with both adoptions to never abuse our sons or treat them as anything less than our own biological children. We also promised officials that we would teach our sons about China, and instill in them a love for their homeland.

With Caleb, I have the added task of trying to make sure he keeps his first language. I know that often research shows that children lose their first tongue in a matter of months as they become immersed in their second language, but I promised the government officials and our guides that we would work on preserving his Chinese language skills, so that when he returns to visit, he will be able to converse freely and not be stuck with "Ni hao" and "Zai jian". It was not an empty promise. It is one I feel strongly about.



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