Tuesday

Tuesday morning we were back at the civil affairs office, ready to sign more papers.  Sweet brothers had a few moments together on the couch .....

After our time at civil affairs we went to a notary office (yes, more signing papers) and then it was time to head out for Nanyang (John Paul's 'hometown').  The trip itself was pretty standard, long drive with young kids standard, that is :)  John Paul is a much better traveler than Luke - at least for now.  He slept some, and played pretty quietly.  Luke turned on his intense, activity-driven personality and drove me nearly insane before we arrived!

The whole purpose of the trip was one very simple fifteen minute paperwork deal (yes, more signatures required) applying for a passport for John Paul.   Although he is 100% adopted and ours forever,  he is still currently a Chinese citizen and will need his passport (and then U.S. visa and trip to America) before he can acquire U.S. citizenship. 

So we f-i-n-a-l-l-y arrive in Nanyang and exit the van to sweltering heat and the two orphanage ladies from Monday.  John Paul took one look at them and started clinging to Matt!  We finish up the paperwork and one of the orphanage ladies says "Now we can see his foster mom".  I turn around and there she is..... 

We stood there, on the steps of a government office building, sweat dripping off everyone of us.  John Paul saw her coming and reached out his arms.  And I started crying.  I know he was probably thinking "this ten day nightmare is finally over, I'm going back to my momma".  He snuggled up into her arms and looked more content than I've ever seen him. 

His foster mom grinned from ear to ear, snuggling and kissing and loving on him.  We visited there on the steps, John Paul content in her arms.  We thanked her and asked questions and thanked her and asked more questions and thanked her again and again :)  I loved hearing little bits of his story, watching her hold out her hands and indicate "he was this small when he came to live with me"  (three days old!) 

She is a delightful woman, in her mid-fifties, from a rural area outside of town.   And she had prepared him so well, so well for us.  As she was holding him, with us standing by her side, she'd say "see, I told you your Mommy and Daddy were coming for you.  Here they are, I told you they were coming." 

What do you say to the woman who cared for your son for his first 19 months?  Who sat by his side during his hospital stay (for his cleft lip repair)?  Who watched him cut his first teeth and pulled him into bed with her when the temperatures dropped at night?  She is a precious lady, and a precious part of John Paul's story.

During the entire visit, which probably lasted only about 15 minutes, the orphanage staff stood by.  On the books a meeting between foster family and adoptive family is discouraged (we had asked for special permission).  And before I knew it, our time on the steps was over and everyone started saying "you have a long drive ahead of you" and "its about time to go". 

So we walked to our van, Matt and Luke and I climbed in.  John Paul's foster mom peeled his arms from around her neck, handed him into the van and walked away sobbing.  The van door closed and we drove away, tears everywhere. 

As terribly difficult as it is even to remember that moment (I'm crying now as I type) I am forever grateful that we had it.  So grateful that John Paul knows that his foster mom knows where he is.  That she gave him to us, that we have pictures and video of all of it.  At 19 months old I am sure that he doesn't understand much of what is happening, he just knows it hurts.  But that moment, I believe it was a big moment for him.  She is a huge part of his story, and to have shared a spot on the timeline of his life - a spot when we were all together - is such a gift.

Tears were still falling when the driver announced we were at the Nanyang City Central Hospital.  The spot where he was abandoned.  I hopped out and took a few photos, Matt and the boys stayed back in the van.  Assuming his birth mother was the one who left him at the hospital (on the steps? at the back door? at night? during the day?  we'll never know....), assuming she was the one who left him -  that is the closest my path will ever cross hers.  I glanced around, wondering.... what direction did she come from? did she hurry away? wait and watch to see that he was picked up?  is she even from the city or had she come in from the countryside for this reason? 

But you know, visiting the spot your son was abandoned is not a warm-fuzzy kind of a thing.  I was ready to get back in the van, leave this place where he was so badly wronged. 

And we drove the long trip home, got to the hotel about 8pm, put Luke in the bed (hallelujah!) and John Paul in the bath.  He loves a bath and it was a sweet, light-hearted way to end a very draining day.