[The following is the second installment of a three-part chronicle of one family's adoption experience.  For part one, see "A Red Thread, a Red Dress, and a Daughter from China".  Watch this space for part three in the near future.]

December 9, 2002

That morning as I prayed about our Chinese daughter, the thought struck me, "I'll bet we hear something today."  After all, it had been almost 14 months since our dossier had gone to China, and according to the timelines given to us by HOPE for Children, it looked like we were getting close.  Faithful, prophetic, coincidental, or just plain lucky, you can't imagine the top-of-the-rollercoaster feeling I got when, listening to my voicemail at work later in the morning, I heard "Tim, this is Chrissy Alberi with HOPE for Children.  I'm in my office with Kent Brand, so call me when you get this message." 

Kent Brand?  She's in the office with Kent Brand?  If ever the proverbial stork existed in human form, it was in the likeness of Kent Brand.  He's the baby guy at HOPE!  Fingers shaking, I called the number to the HOPE office (memorized from the full 14 months of dossier to referral time for Chinese adoptions) and reached Chrissy.  I'll never forget her first few words:  "I'm looking at a picture of a little girl..."

Our little girl.  Our daughter.  She's here.  Or there.  We're here, she's there, but we're together...kind of.  There's finally a baby attached to our prayers and dreams!  We were reaching the end of the red thread.

"...she's eight months old, and her name is Gúo Wen Gao.  She's described as active and energetic, and fond of imitating," Chrissy continued.  "Eight months old?" I said.  "That means she wasn't even born when we started the process!" Amazing. 

Somehow, I managed to drive to the HOPE office and pick up the referral packet, which we would need to have translated from Chinese to English.  I saw the picture on her official paperwork, the size of a postage stamp.  As I looked at the other pictures sent by the orphanage, I saw that this little girl was indeed pretty serious.  The closest thing to a smile was her furrowed brow.  And what a wild hairdo she was sporting!  No wonder she was so serious.

Determined to surprise Laurel with the news, I drove to the school where she teaches and walked into the office where she was.  She turned around and saw me and excitedly said "Why are you here!?"  I held up the picture and said, "Happy Birthday, one day late...we got our referral!"  Her daily prayers to have our referral by her birthday (December 8) were answered.  After all, it was probably December 8^th somewhere in the world, right?  We were in a state of euphoria for the next several hours as we called family and friends with the news.  I checked our sons Landon and Evan out of school early and took them home, sat them down and told them the news.  "We got our referral today...we have a picture of Emerson!"  They both looked at her picture and fell in love with their new sister. 

Since most of the packet we received in our referral was written in Chinese, I took the forms to a Chinese minister who had agreed to translate them to English for us.  As he began reading the narrative, that tingly feeling you get when something really ironic or special happens ran down my spine.  He began reading:  "It says here that she was born on April 12, 2002, and they know that was her actual birthday because she was found with a note when she was five days old near the branch of a Bank of China in Zhuzhou City. She's been in the orphanage ever since."

Found with a note...exactly the answer to Laurel's prayer.  A note from her mother, or someone who cared enough to know that she'd want to know when her real birthday was.  God is truly good, and it's kind of scary sometimes how specifically he answers specific prayers.    That night we celebrated with (what else) Chinese food!  At the restaurant, we proudly showed off our pictures to the Chinese waitresses who all commented on how lucky and pretty this baby was.  We couldn't wait to meet her!

Sunday, February 16, 2003 -- Changsha, Hunan Province, China

After a month or so of planning our travel and making all the arrangements, we left for China on Valentine's Day (see "This Year, We're Going Out for Chinese!").  Crossing over the International Date Line somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, we lost a day, arriving in Guangzhou, China on February 16...our 12^th wedding anniversary.  Along with Laurel and me, our travel group consisted of Chrissy Alberi from HOPE for Children; Thom and Kathy Dulaney, who were also from Georgia and would be adopting Nikki, a 2 year old girl; and Karla Price, a single mom who lived very close to us, who would be adopting Helena, a baby girl the same age as Emerson.

In the Guangzhou airport, we met Jophy, who works for HOPE for Children in China and would serve as our guide, interpreter, and all-around savior during the trip. Later in the day, our travel group boarded a domestic flight to Changsha, the province where our babies were.  What a little family we had already become with our travel group!  Arriving in Changsha, we each gathered our luggage and boarded the bus to the hotel.  On the bus, Jophy told us that we would be meeting our babies that evening at 7:30pm. 

After finally settling in our hotel room and being relieved to find Western toilets in the bathroom, we returned to the lobby an hour later.  The babies were there, all bundled up in snowsuits and sitting quietly with two of the workers from the orphanage.  We walked across the lobby timidly, wondering if we were supposed to wait for some sort of signal.  Jophy motioned us over, saying "These are your babies."  We walked over, easily recognizing Gúo Wen Gao from her pictures.  Laurel took her from the nanny and began to talk to her while I fumbled with the three cameras we brought, clicking away to record this magic moment. 

We learned that the woman who brought Nikki to the hotel was a teacher at the orphanage, and she had also brought a 12-year-old girl with her to help with the babies.  The girl was so happy, going from baby to baby to give them toys and comfort them.  We learned that she was deaf, could speak only through sign language, and lived at the orphanage.

Our initial meeting was far less ceremonial than I had imagined it would be.  I pictured us all being in a hotel conference room and the babies would come in when their Chinese names were announced.  Then we'd walk up and receive our Asian bundles of joy from the caretaker, who would bow and smile.  I imagined it being a very emotional moment, when at last this abandoned child would be placed into the arms of her new parents, an orphan no more.

Having the "gotcha moment" take place in a hotel lobby with a bunch of tourists bustling about was a little strange, but we didn't care a bit.  Emerson seemed mildly interested in us, but extremely interested in the Cheerios we brought.  As we all sat in the lobby getting acquainted, Emerson would look deeply into our eyes as if searching for something. I couldn't help but think that maybe she recognized us from the pictures we sent over in a care package to the orphanage a few weeks earlier.  All of the other parents were having an equally good time meeting their new daughters.  We came equipped with toys, too, so the transition would at least be entertaining for her.  Our sons had picked out a stuffed animal just for Emerson, so as I took her from Laurel, I told her "Your brothers picked this out just for you." After a little while, Jophy told us that our paperwork could be postponed until the next day, since the babies needed to eat, as it had been a long drive from the orphanage.

So, we took our bundled-up Asian princess to our room.  We had wondered how she'd react when we took her from her nannies, since she was so unaccustomed to strangers.  I had prayed continually that we'd have a smooth transition and that she wouldn't be too upset to leave with us, knowing it's often a traumatic moment for orphans.  But God answered yet another of our prayers, as she left with us without a single tear.  Whether it was the Cheerios, the toys, or her comfort with us, we were grateful that God had blessed our prayer for our first moments together.

In the room, we peeled off the snowsuit and discovered four more layers of clothing.  We had taken the snow hat off earlier, revealing her flyaway hairdo matted to her head with sweat.  We had been told earlier about the Chinese tradition of dressing children in many layers to protect the skin, and that we should adhere to the tradition while we were in China.  Since the temperature in Changsha was averaging in the 50's, we knew we could probably get by with fewer layers when we ventured out to our appointments the next day.

Now would come the true test of our parenting skills:  Which bottle and which formula would she take?  We had brought four different kinds of nipples and four different formulas, since we weren't sure what she had had in the orphanage.  We didn't have to work too hard; she settled on a traditional bottle with Carnation formula...the same kinds our boys had taken.

We spent the next hour or so playing on the bed and checking her out.  She seemed so small, so delicate.  "What a little princess", we commented.  "We're just going to have to fatten you up a bit!"  As we played on the bed, showing her the toys we brought, she would look at the toys, then at us.  She would grasp each toy and shake it up and down.  Never once did she crack a smile.  She wasn't unhappy, just very serious.  "Well, we'll fix that", I said.  Since I consider humor as necessary as air and water, with two wildly happy and carefree boys, I knew she would shed that furrowed brow within time.  My goal is that I would get a smile out of her within the first day.  When I tickled her ribs, she squirmed...but didn't laugh.  It was almost as if she didn't know how to react. I could tell it tickled her, but maybe she just didn't know how to laugh?  "Hmmm...I've got my work cut out for me," I thought.  I blew into her bare tummy and made the traditional raspberry noise (which is the same in every language), and got a little smile.  That would do for now.

She took her bottle and went to bed without incident, very quiet, very peaceful.  Laurel and I looked at each other and just laughed:  "Well that was easy!"   She slept through the night the first night, much to her travel-weary new parents' relief.  The end of the red thread....amazing.

To be continued...