November 2003

A New Baby Sister

Andrew Creek (age 9) & brother Evan (age 6) travelled to China with
parents Bianca & David to meet their sister Meili.

The responsibility of preparing our three sons for the adoption of their sister, Isobel Grace Minfang, loomed large for my husband Ted, and I. We read them books on China and adoption. We watched videos on Chinese culture. We took them to Autumn Moon and Chinese New Year celebrations. We talked about Isobel and adoption often. As a parent, you are never really sure how much (if anything!) of what you say sinks in with your child. However, over time, it became evident that our sons were falling in love with even the idea of their sister.

The day we received Isobel’s referral photo was one of the greatest days of our lives. The boys carried her pictures everywhere. We had copies made, and each boy had his own. Keith, aged 7 and Harrison aged 5, brought the pictures to school for “show and tell”. Isobel’s beautiful black hair stuck straight up in her referral photo, just as our eldest son Keith’s had when he was a baby. Our green eyed, blonde haired Keith, went around telling people as they peered at the photo that “my sister looks just like me”.

Walking Harrison to kindergarten one day just before our leaving for China, he clasped my hand tightly and said “Mom, when you get home from China with Isobel, I am going to be half Chinese”. “Really Harrison, why is that?” I inquired. “Because Mom, when you have someone in your family who is Chinese, then you are half Chinese. When Isobel comes home from China, she will be in our family, so then I will be half Chinese”. (I believe Harrison came to this conclusion because he has friends who have one Chinese parent, and they are therefore “half Chinese”).

Two days before our departure I was busy filling suitcases, trying to decide which ones to bring. An unused suitcase lay open on our bedroom floor. Luke, age 2, repeatedly climbed inside, buckled the clothing strap around his waist, and pretended he was in an airplane. When I asked where he was going he replied “I fly a China”. I then asked what he was going to do in China and he said matter of factly “get a baby shishter Ishobel and bring her home a my house”. And so went the game. He would strap himself in and pretend to fly in the airplane. He would then land the plane, (in China), get out and run to the nursery (which was of course, China), and grab the Asian doll we had bought for Isobel. He would hug and kiss the doll, saying “Hi baby Ishobel”, and then return to the suitcase with “Isobel” in his arms. He would carefully set the doll down beside him, buckle the “seatbelt” around the both of them, and pretend to fly home. The plane would then land and with great enthusiasm he would introduce me to Isobel. We would hug and kiss her, and then he would show her around the house and give her a big welcome. Soon big brother Harrison joined in and the game continued over and over while I packed.

Early in the morning, Dec 5, 2003, our three sons woke up, each about 15 minutes apart, and wandered in to meet their new sister. I will never forget that amazing moment as long as I live. They each immediately got down on their knees and hugged her. She had smiles for all of them. Then, they sat and played together like they had done so all their lives. As I write this, many weeks later, it is as if Isobel has always been in our family. No one can make her laugh as much as her brothers can.

She is right there in the thick of things, crawling to wherever they are. She smiles and flops along happily as our older two pick her up and carry her. My husband and I feel an indescribable love for Isobel that is as deep and endless as the love we have for our biological sons – there truly is no difference.

Our sons have embraced their sister from the time she was someone we could only imagine. In their hearts she has been their sister whether she was in China, or finally home with us. I think Harrison summed it all up well after just a few outings as a family. He asked “Mommy, when we go out, why do people stare and ask you if you are babysitting or if Isobel is adopted?”. “Well,” I answered “they see you three blonde boys and then they see that Isobel is Chinese”. “But Mom” he replied emphatically, “how can they tell she’s Chinese?”

Jim Daer & Cynthia Kuzub

On December 4, 2003 eight Canadian towns and cities gained ten beautiful new residents. Abbotsford, Calgary, Winnipeg, Toronto, Aurora, Mississauga, Kitchener and Ottawa welcomed Abigail, Anya, Isobel, Jessa, Justine, Katherine, Renee, Reya, Sarah and Yulin to their new lives. Nine had lived together at the Xiushui Social Welfare Institute. Their new lives are lived far apart, but forever joined by the first nine months of their lives and by this wonderful group of parents whose lives have been charmed by their new daughters.

A Trip report can tell you what we did and where we went; it can never capture the experiences and emotions, the friendships and fun, the joys and tears that happened in those extraordinary days some ten thousand kilometers away.

Some of us were fortunate enough to arrive in Shanghai a few days early where we stayed in a superb hotel not far from the stunning space-age skyscrapers of the Bund. (Superb hotels were a theme of this trip.) But we were just putting in time until Monday rolled around and we would meet our daughters.

The rest of the group arrived, a little delayed, on Sunday night. Sleepless in Shanghai, some managed to take in the city sights and a meal before grabbing some rest in preparation for our departure for Nanchang the next morning.

A flight to Nanchang, check-in at the delightful Gloria Plaza Hotel and a quick sandwich later, we found ourselves on a bus to the Jiang Xi Provincial Centre of Adoption Services. (Riding a bus was another fond memory of this trip.) As we filed in through the silver and glass front door and up the chilly staircase, there was no need to speak about our collective and individual anxiety and excitement. We all knew that a momentous and profound moment, the culmination of months – maybe years – of waiting, was about to arrive. It did arrive, and it cannot be adequately described. Those of you who have done it know; those of you who hope to do it, it is unique.

The cacophony of wailing babies was mere background noise as each of us received our daughter, handed to us by the director of the orphanage as our names were called. Film rolled in the video cameras while tears rolled down some cheeks. These babies had been on a bus for eight hours from the orphanage. We knew little about them, and found out little more from the Director. A haze of paperwork, payments, photos and signatures followed before we retreated to the hotel to give our babies new clothes and some food.

The days that followed were made magical not just by the presence of these remarkable children and our visits to some of the world’s most spectacular sites (the Great Wall, the Forbidden City). No, it was the kindness of strangers (now friends) as people helped each other without hesitation or complaint. Those experienced in parenting gave tips to us rookies; our three physicians examined, advised and provided the appropriate remedies with the competence and warmth we value so much in a doctor.

The care, attention and patience shown by Yulin, Yufen, Tiffany (our Nanchang guide) and Faye (our Beijing guide) was priceless; the laughs as we negotiated the purchase of our “brand name” coats in silk alley and returned to the bus to compare bargains; the tears as the babies occasionally touched each other with the seeming affection of true sisters; the sumptuous (and cheap!) meals arranged by Yulin. These are the glimpses of a trip that changed the lives of some thirty people forever.

By the time we arrived at Beijing International airport for the trip home, we were loaded down with memories and gifts. A long wait for the delayed flight allowed us more time to reflect and talk about the ten days we had just spent and the welcome we all anticipated at our destination.

The numerous empty seats on the plane allowed us to spread out and the crying was minimal. When we finally made Vancouver the goodbyes were hurried as people rushed, exhausted as they were, to make a connecting flight. But these goodbyes are only temporary. These special deliveries from Beijing will hopefully meet up again soon and often.

Philip Downes