All American.

Our US Consulate appointment was this morning. Along with about ten other families, we took an oath, signed some papers, and cheered when they announced our children will be US citizens as soon as they set foot on American soil. It was a powerful 5 minute ceremony, and we couldn't be happier.

Most definitely, our favorite new immigrant. She has completely come alive over the past week, blending in with the family, but also carving out her own special spot. She is a cool girl–America is lucky to have her.

Sweet peeps.

As a family, we have been very grateful not to be here alone. It has been life-saving to have these built-in people to travel with, cry with, try not to gag at new foods with, panic with, and laugh with. We have shared days of pure joy, and also of pure exhaustion and feeling overwhelmed with the life-long changes ahead.

These strangers have seen some of my proudest moments, and some of my worst. Mia cried for the whole two-hour plane ride from Hangzhou to Guangzhou, and they were all lovely as I then cried for the next two hours. Another of the worst moments: when we realized that our passport bag was missing while we were on Shamian Island. We didn't know if we had left it somewhere, or been robbed. Michelle got to see that 'special' moment. Each family has also had bouts of sickness, but at a certain point in this process, even the really bad stuff becomes funny. It's all a part of our story here.

(We got the passport bag back 15 minutes later. I was mid-garden, dumping out the backpack and bags crying, while Caleb went to retrace our steps. A Chinese lady came up to me and said "Excuse me, are you lost?" meaning "Did you lose something?" I cry-yelled "yes! a black bag!" At this point, I was causing a commotion, so the security guard came out of the station (actually, it was three guards). So the sweet lady started talking in Chinese to them, and she translated back to us: "He saw two men take it". This is when I full body slapped my knees and said "Why did he let them take it?" Then, more Chinese, and she translates: the men took it to a store, so she starts running to the store with Caleb. Two minutes later, the black bag and all the heroes emerge. The "men" were a young couple who I then made uncomfortable with my crying embrace, followed by one for the sweet lady who helped. We found out she was "Jenny," and that she owned "Jenny's Place". We went straight there and bought gifts for everyone. She gave me a bracelet with a jade cross on it, for free. Sweet Jenny.)

Gracelyn, Nolan, Nina, Mia, and Hannah (and Myah, not pictured here, was napping.)

Guangzhou, beautiful but exhausting.

Every adopted child has to travel from their province to Guangzhou before leaving China. Here, they have a medical visit, get their visas, and receive their new country's citizenship. So there are many families who are in Guangzhou now, completing last steps.

This city has a different feel – much more international, and cleaner – but still huge, still not easy to navigate, and very crowded. Guangzhou has been a pretty place to spend our final week in China, but at this point, we are ready to come home.

The zoo:

Local "Dim Sum" lunch: Consists of steamed dumplings of all sorts, filled either with yummy meat and vegetables, shrimp, sweet jams – or with something you need to spit back into the napkin as soon as the guide turns away. Mia has also been dubbed with "Dim Sum" as a nickname: she is definitely a little steamed dumpling. The girl can work up a sweat, especially when she's sleeping.

Dinner Cruise: hard to explain. Buffet with duck heads floating in the entrees choices, a Latina clown juggling show, and ice cream cones. Lots of fun and dancing at the end though, and pretty sights.

Guangzhou will do, but truly we just can't wait to get home.

Don't judge us.

With her and for her.

Krista and I both agree that the past couple of days have been among the hardest of our lives. Mia P is deep in grieving yet another upheaval, yet another situation she's been thrust into. She swings between almost manic delight and inconsolable sadness. Again, it's part of what it feels like to be rescued. We just want to enter into it with her as much as she'll let us, even more than she wants us to.

For the first few days I was glad that Ada and Evelyn were here for their sakes, so they could have the amazing experience of coming to China. Then I was glad that they were here for their new sister's sake, to help draw her into the family. But they've been so much more: full of kindness and comfort and fun for all of us, pitching in as babysitters for their sister, loving on her, playing with her, even helping with feeding and bathtime. We're superlucky to have 3 precious daughters.

 

And yesterday, Mia and I had a breakthrough. After putting her down for a nap Krista took the girls for some relaxation – the girls went swimming and Krista hung out by the lovely pool. I worked for an hour in the hotel room, listening to make sure Mia was okay next door. After an hour I heard sniffling, so I peeked around the corner – and honestly, I was dreading her reaction. But she was just standing in the dark, looking at me. She let me pick her up, and sing to her for almost half an hour, and then let me dress her and play softly on the couch until the other girls got back.

The rest of the day was really tender. She bounces from person to person, playing with Ada for an hour, then Eve, then Mommy. And now I'm in the fold, too. Especially when it comes to things like bouncing on the bed.

One more memory worth writing down here, because it was a moment that she let us into a bit more of herself, and I don't ever want to forget it. As we put her down last night, she started sobbing again, and pushing backward, wanting not to be touched. But we came close to her, and were touching her face, and telling her that we love her in Chinese. 

And then something pretty incredible happened. We had given her some ibuprofen for a little cough, from a needle-less syringe like pharmacists give out, and she wanted to hold it. When we gave it to her, she pulled up her pants leg and poked the needle-less tip of it into her thigh over and over again, and then found an extra bandage and started wrapping her leg with it. She looked at us, crying, as she did this but she also let us kiss her leg, and ask her if it hurts in Chinese, and stroke her face for a long time. Then Krista held her until she went to sleep.

 

In all of it, here's something we remind ourselves – if adoption is a good thing, then it's not an abstract good. It's a particular good. To go even farther, if it's something that God wants the Ludwicks to do, then it's not just because he wants us to be adopters, or for her to stop being an orphan. It's because he wants this particular girl to be part of our particular family. Because he wants Mia for us, and us for Mia. 

Leaving Mia's city.

Today we will be leaving Hangzhou and flying with the other families to Guangzhou, where the adopted children will become US citizens at the Consulate. Leaving Pinyi's city brings a lot of different feelings, of course – and there are a few things I want to document about our time here.

First, my husband. He is a brave man. He is the only testosterone representative among 4 women, and he is amazingly still not "outnumbered". He is a pillar of strength. I hate to say it, but there have already been times when all 4 of us women were crying at the same time, and he is still kind, and masterful in how he handles it. He's a natural father and husband, and I'm blessed.


Hangzhou is famous for many things – one of which is its West Lake. And it truly is amazing. It is what I pictured of China, serene and mysterious.




Hangzhou is also famous for its green tea, and we were able to go with our guide and group to the tea village for a tasting. It was really lovely, hills of tea plants and gardens, with many little rooms filled with people listening to lectures about tea. It was such a cool thing to experience, although we all felt bad about the Cheerios crunched into the floor in the tasting room (sorry, tea room).


We also were able to visit Mia's orphanage, yesterday. It was a very good place, as orphanages go. The director had made a keepsake book for each child, documenting her growth and milestones, which includes the only pictures we have ever seen of Mia as an infant. Precious.
We got a tour of her playroom and living area: there was a chair, a bathroom hook, and cubby for her toothbrush, with her tiny picture above each. We saw her crib, which was already occupied by another toddler. It was heartbreaking to see, but priceless. Also, they took us to the medical room and unwrapped/rewrapped her leg. The burn is almost healed, but the original injury was even worse than we imagined. They were very sweet and gentle with her, and the nurses and nannies came up and loved on her… so Pinyi did well there and was not upset. Although a couple of hours later, after some fun playing and laughing, she suddenly started crying. She cried for longer and harder than we had seen her do, holding herself up on all fours, not letting anyone touch her, and cried until, nearly an hour later she collapsed and slept. We wonder if she was grieving about leaving the orphanage, and what must be going through her heart.

Even with the lovely areas of the city and culture, it is still very easy to say we have no qualms about adopting her and bringing her home. Hangzhou is no place for an orphan. The beautiful parts of the city do not make up for the rest of the city. I'm trying to be careful here, because everyone has different experiences. I'm only speaking for myself. But for me, the loudness and chaos of the city is overwhelming. It is not an alive, metropolitan kind of chaos – a "we can navigate this" challenge – but rather, a "don't-let-go-of-your-kids-or step-to-the-left-at-the-wrong-moment" kind of chaos. And it seems that way for everyone, not just for white people from Chattanooga.

Each day stepping out the doors of the hotel, I wondered if it was even worth it to get groceries or coffee, or to make the short 10 minute walk to West Lake. There is a built-in street for scooters and bikes (and the occasional car) which you have to cross before you can even get to the crosswalk for the motorway. If you make it across that scooter-street, you might as well close your eyes and run across – because red lights, green lights, policemen directing traffic don't make any difference to the cars. The sidewalks aren't even always safe, numerous times I have turned around and there is a car or scooters honking behind me. And the funny thing is, there is nowhere to go in order to move out of their way.


At a more serious level, heartbreaking poverty is woven into the life of the city as well. We saw neighborhoods where people were 'farming' in the median of the road. In some parts, there is rubble everywhere from torn down buildings, and people cooking and eating on top of the piles. The houses in that area were dark openings under abandoned construction sites. Then add 7 million more people in a tight geographic area, and this is the Hangzhou we experienced. I know this is why God moves in people, so that He can use them to penetrate poverty and despair, sometimes one child at a time. I won't forget that this is a bright spot, because it is.



At one point, a few days ago, I wondered if people would understand why were were in Hangzhou once Pinyi was with us. If the unapologetic staring would diminish. Instead, it has ramped up, full force! Some people come over really close, stare at each of us, then begin to clap and laugh with Pinyi, trying to make her smile – like a peace offering, a blessing for her and what we're doing. Others look right at us and shake their heads, disgusted. But yesterday, we were in an elevator and an elderly lady was staring at us from the corner. She started nodding her head, and in English said: "Thank you. You are taking her to a good land, thank you." We replied, "Oh no, thank you." We truly are thankful to China, and to the people who saved Mia's life and have helped her so much. But at the same time, we agree. We are taking her to a new home, and it is a good thing.

This week has deepened my patriotism. It is a great day to be leaving Hangzhou, going to the US Consulate in Guangzhou, and making this girl and her little mates U.S. citizens.

What it feels like to be rescued.

Funny thing about love, the deeper it goes the more it unearths. Mia's laughs are already richer and longer, her smiles coming regularly now, and she is playing with Ada and Evelyn like a pro.

But the hard parts are sharper, too. I've never seen a child cry like this (or one with this much reason). And yesterday we entered a new phase, where she retracts, gets suspicious and starts crying whenever I come close. Our best guess is that she's not used to male caregivers. Or that the doctors who treated her burn accident, last May, were men. What we do know is that I've got a lifetime to change her mind.

But today we did have a huge treat: she called Krista "Mommy", loud and clear – and about half an hour later, she waved at me (from a safe distance) with a "Papa." That's enough to last me for a couple of days. Meanwhile it's so sweet and so good to have her Mommy and sisters here, to make her smile.
 

 

And just in case anyone is wondering where we are, here's a photo of what we saw rising out of the mists of West Lake.
 Yep, it's China.