A Cautionary Tale, aka Do Not Put All Your Eggs In One Basket

I have done a rather stupid thing.

And that stupid thing is this: I put almost every document relating to Lana's identity in ONE burgundy plastic expandable file folder.

The exception to this is her US passport, which, just by happenstance, is in an envelope with our plane tickets for our spring break trip. (And until the tickets came, her passport was in there, too.)

The burgundy plastic file folder is THE ONLY PLACE I had her social security number. (The file folder also contains 3 copies of her social security card, but, fat lot of good having a copy does if it is sitting with the original.)

This morning, for about 4 hours, I thought the burgundy file folder had been stolen from my car, and let me tell you, I honestly about lost my mind.

I KNOW better than this. I DO.

I give people LEGAL ADVICE for a LIVING, you can guarantee that I would never advise any client to keep all important documents in one place with no copies anywhere else.

SO WHY WOULD I DO THAT TO MYSELF??

So, for a few minutes I sat and thought about how I would reconstruct Lana's life - how I would put the pieces back together so that she would have an adoption decree, a birth certificate, a social security card, a certificate of citizenship.

I called the clerk at Probate court who handles all the adoptions, and she told me that they would be able to produce a certified copy of the final adoption decree (from my state, of course, but not from Vietnam), and my adoption agency said they could get me a copy (though not certified) of her Vietnamese adoption documents.

To reconstruct her life's documents would take time and money, and I am kind of desperate to get my taxes done. And to do that, I need her social security card.

When I called social security to see if they would tell me what the number is, they said, "we cannot give a parent the social security number for their child until they give it to us first."

Huh?? (She has got to be kidding me, right?)

So I said, "if I had the number, I wouldn't need YOU to give ME the number."

"Yes, I know, but, that's our policy ma'am."

I said, "What do I have to do to get the number?"

"Fill out form F-5 requesting a new card." she says.

"Form F-5 requires that I KNOW the number. I don't know the number."

We went round and round for 5 minutes. She tells me I should have written the number down in more than one place. (Thank you very f**king much. I needed that advice. Or rather assvice.)

She keeps saying that she cannot give me the number until I give her the number first. I want to strangle her.

Finally, I say, "would you PLEASE tell me what I have to do, if I have NO DOCUMENTS relating to my daughter's identity, how do I get her social security number?" (This was a stretch of the truth since I did have her passport.)

She hems and haws and says that I have to go in person to the social security office and take any documents that I can find, including any school records and medical records, and if I have "enough proof" they will help me out, in person.

I was thinking that I was going to have to leave work tomorrow afternoon and take her passport and the replacement adoption decree and beg the people at social security office to tell me what her social security number is. (Which, frankly, as her parent, I think I should be entitled to be told if I can show that she is my child, but, I don't really have high hopes about what might have happened.)

The good news is that, when Husband got home, he found the burgundy file folder in our computer room. Evidently, I must have brought it in from my car myself. (Smacks self in head).

So, I'm off to do my taxes. And put copies of all the important documents in about 3 separate places.

LM

365 Days, or Now I Have You

Right now, as I type this, it is about 7:40 PM Eastern Time in the US on January 7th. But, in Vietnam, it's about 7:40 AM on January 8th.


Which is roughly the time that, one year ago, we left our hotel to travel to Lana's orphanage for the last time.


Lana left the orphanage with us, and two other families, in a taxi a few hours later. She had never been in a car before. At times it is hard for me to wrap my head around the enormous changes this little girl has been through in the last 365 days. She had never been in a car before.


She had never been outside the province of DaNang before. She had never seen snow. The list is endless...


If you've been reading our story for a while, you know this. If you haven't been reading...well, I blogged the whole thing here:


http://gretchenfaith.blogspot.com/2007/01/we-have-lan.html


and here


http://gretchenfaith.blogspot.com/2007/01/giving-and-receiving-ceremony-and.html


As I type this, Lana is sitting in the big bathtub in my bathroom, tormenting her brother with a fish-shaped water pistol.

A year ago, as I concentrated on getting through each second without flying apart into a gazillion pieces of emotional wreckage, I don't think I allowed myself to believe that such normalcy was attainable.

I'm not going to lie and say that every day of our lives is an exercise in normalcy. (And I'm not sure that I would want to be living that kind of life.)

I strive for honesty here in this bloggy place.

The truth is, this has not been an easy year.

The truth is, this year has been more difficult than I imagined it would be on the day that Lana became our daughter.

The truth is that Lana crawled into my lap two days ago, played with the buttons on my shirt, and matter of factly said, "I used to have a different mommy. You used to be not my mommy. I had another mommy. Now I have you. I love you, mommy. I love two mommies." (I am NOT paraphrasing. That is, word for word, what she said to me.)

The truth is that is I was so stunned by her statement that instead of forming a response, I blinked and I just said, "I love you, too, Lana."

The truth is that while watching her adoption video with me on New Year's Day, she pointed to the footage of the orphanage and said, "I was scared. I was scared in that place, Mommy. Scared." And my heart broke for her.

The truth is that she was up half the night after watching that video, screaming in her sleep, "I don't want to go, I don't want to go, I don't want to go."

I don't think you have to be Freud to draw some pretty hefty conclusions about that.

At the end of the day, at the end of a year, the truth is that I love this child. I didn't fall in love with her right away. I fell in love with her in bits and pieces. When I think about what our journey to this child means to me, and the family of four that we have become with her in it, there are two verses of a song that run through my head. And begging the pardon of the person or persons who wrote it, because I don't pretend to know what they were writing about, (and it is most certainly about a woman, because, come on, isn't that what all the best songs are about?) - the song is Pat Green's Wave On Wave - and to me the words sum up the way Lana brought us to find her, and then made us love her - wave on wave, piece by piece, over and over. The words go like this:

So caught up now in pretending
That what we're seeking is the truth
I'm just looking for a happy ending
All I'm looking for is you.

You came upon me, wave on wave.
You're the reason I'm still here.
Am I the one you were sent to save?
You came upon me, wave on wave.

LM

12 Months Ago

At exactly this time (noon), at O'Hare Airport, Husband and I boarded a Korean Airlines jet bound for Seoul, South Korea.

It was just the beginning of our long journey to Lana.

I have a lot of thoughts bouncing around in my head today, on this topic and many others.

Right now, I just want to post a photo of Lana and I watching her adoption video. We watched it New Year's Day. Please excuse my appearance, as I am nursing a serious champagne head-ache in the photo.

In which I am forced to quote the lyrics of a cheesy Chicago song

For quite some time, I have been frustrated by Lana's steadfast refusal to walk upstairs by herself. (I mean, Lana is physically capable of walking up stairs - it's just that she refuses to go to the second floor of our home if no other family members are up there.)

I was not understanding this, since the upstairs is where all of our bedrooms are, and Lana seems to like her bedroom and the toys that are there. But, she will only play in her room if other people are also upstairs.

We have had angry scream-y mornings in which I have asked her to do something, which, in my mind, is TOTALLY REASONABLE while I am trying to get Gabriel out to the bus on time, and Lana and myself into the car immediately thereafter. Namely, I will say, "Lana, please go up and put on some socks" or "Please go up and get your hair brush and a pony tail holder."

And then Lana will say "No," and I will say, "yes" and Lana will say, "NO PEOPLE UP THERE!" and I will say, "SO WHAT?" and the conversation just goes downhill from there and ends with me stomping angrily upstairs or going upstairs WITH HER to get whatever item it is that is needed and feeling frustrated that she is being disobedient.

I was about at the end of my rope with this when, a few nights ago, we got a bit of insight into the situation.

As is our custom, all four of us were sitting at the kitchen table just before bed. Gabe and Lana were eating their snack, I was reading to them from Encyclopedia Brown, and Husband was grading papers.

Lana had finished her snack and I had finished The Case of the Purloined Watermelon or whatever whodunit the good Encyclopedia had been delving into that night, and Gabriel had one more peanut butter cracker to finish. Husband told Lana to go upstairs and start brushing her teeth. (It is easier to get teeth brushed when both children are not in the bathroom together. I don't know what it is about teeth-brushing-time that brings out the worst persnickityness in them.)

"Nobody up there," Lana said.

"Gabe will be up in a minute. You go on upstairs and start brushing your teeth." Husband said.

"But, no people upstairs. Nobody upstairs." Lana continued.

Husband looks frustrated and says, "Just go on up and brush your teeth. Mommy and Gabe will come up in a second."

Lana's face bunches up with near tears. "If I go upstairs, and everybody stay down here, you will leave me. You will go away. You will leave." She blurts.

Stunned silence.

"We will never leave you." Husband says categorically.

"Yes," Lana says, "you will leave."

"We will never leave you by yourself. Not ever." Husband says again.

"You will," she said, in a quiet, sad voice that made it clear she believed it was only a matter of time before we betrayed her in this way.

Suffice it to say that I worry that, as an adult, Lana may have abandonment issues that could rival those of Meredith Grey...

In a way, I am relieved that Lana feels that she can communicate her fears to us. On the other hand, I find it heartbreaking that she worries that we are not really her forever family and are engaged in some kind of elaborate hoax to leave her alone and helpless.

I must confess that, when I went into her bedroom that night to sing her a song before sleeping (normally I sing her "I'm In Love With A Big Blue Frog" and "The Other Day I Saw A Bear"), I found myself crooning the first verse of a song with which I was obsessed as a pre-teen girl enamoured of The Karate Kid movies.

Yes, I had to sing part of [gasp] The Glory of Love, namely:

I will always love you
I will never leave you alone
Sometimes I just forget
Say things I might regret
It breaks my heart to see you crying
I don't want to lose you
I could never make it alone

Sometimes, only the cheesiest love song can say what really needs to be said.

LM

Incongruous

Some time ago, my Girlfriend A~ (aka Vanilla Caribou or Perpetual Student http://vanillacaribou.blogspot.com/) sent a gift to Lana and Gabriel that included a CD called "O Canada." It's a collection of Canadian songs sung by Canadian Children. The cover of the CD features a Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman and a Maple Leaf.

The point I am trying to make is that it is an extremely CANADIAN album. (Which makes sense, since Canada is where A~ lives when she is not running around Northern Ireland writing her thesis and taking pictures for her blog.) The album is more Canadian than The Barenaked Ladies and Bryan Adams put together. It's like a little audio helping of maple syrup and poutaine (poutine?).

Recently, Lana has decided that she LOVES this album. She LOVES it.

(In the interest of full disclosure, I must also say that Lana LOVES the song "Cyclone" by Baby Bash and T-Pain, and also "Bubbly" by Colby Callait (sp?) - so, there really is no cataloguing her musical taste.)

But, at any rate, she is especially fond of two songs from the "O Canada" album, namely, a folk song entitled "Farewell to Nova Scotia" and the Canadian national anthem.

And I just have to say that I find it extremely incongruous, to be driving my newly emigrated Vietnamese-American daughter through a snowy mid-Western day while she happily sings, "Oh Canada, My Home and Native Land" in the backseat of the car...

LM

Have I Not Been Paying Enough Attention?

My best friend from high school (elementary school, actually - we met in the 5th grade) has been living in Kuala Lumpar (sp?), Malaysia since 1996. I've seen her three times in the past 11 years. Nonetheless, she is one of my oldest friends, so, we email or Skype about once a month, sometimes more, sometimes less. I'll admit that in the 10 months since I've been parenting two children, it's been "less often" than "more". I have, on more than one occasion, completely flipped my lid when something disastrous was going on in Southeast Asia and I wasn't able to reach her via email or Skype. (Typhoons, for example).

So, I was somewhat surprised, on Saturday, to find an email in my in-box from her with a subject line, "don't worry, we're fine" and a fairly lengthy email explaining why I should not worry about her and describing the circumstance that led to the Malaysian people rioting in the streets.

And I realized that I had no idea that I should be THINKING about being WORRIED about her. I had no clue.

It occurred to me that the only global information I've been paying any attention to for about two weeks is that which concerns the situation with adoptions in Vietnam.

It's possible that I need to be a bit more mindful of what is going on in the world. Despite the fact that it regularly scares the everliving crap out of me. (Cheney (aka The Anti-Christ) is trying to convince us we need to go to War with Iran? Really? Are we seriously contemplating this? See, I venture outside my bubble for two seconds and I am terrified already.)

In my own little corner of the world, the news goes something like this:

1. Lana loves her dollhouse. I have pictures of her playing with it I hope to post soon. The dollhouse was a kit from Imaginarium, as opposed to something more complicated. She also likes the dolls we got her to go in the dollhouse, who are roughly the same height as Barbies, but, look like regular girls. They are called the Only Hearts Club dolls. My only complaint is that they released an Asian doll named Hannah Faith earlier this year, and you cannot find her ANYWHERE. Yesterday I finally emailed the company and they wrote back to tell me "[d]ue to the overwhelming positive response to our two new dolls, Kayla Rae and Hannah Faith, we were sold out of them in late August 2007. We are currently producing more and these will be available for shipping around the 20th of December." I am hoping to get a hold of one for Lana for Christmas. As is, I imagine, every other household with a 4-to-7 year old Asian girl living in it...so, I'm not holding my breath. (As it is, Lana seems perfectly happily with the two blond dolls that she has. She doesn't play with her Sonya Lee doll or her Corolle doll Lili, both of whom are Asian, as often as she plays with her other dolls. I still think it's important that she have a variety dolls that look like her. Anybody have thoughts on this?)

2. Over the weekend we had a huge birthday bash in Husband's hometown (suburban Detroit) for Lana, and her cousins J~, M~ and B~. Every cousin on Husband's side of the family has a birthday in November except for Gabe. So, we had a big party at a place with Laser Tag, a giant inflatable slide, a rock climbing wall, a giant trampoline, skeeball, Dance-Dance-Revolution, etc. It was fun. I've got pictures of Gabe and Lana on the giant trampoline that I will post along with photos of the dollhouse. Lana was in 7th Heaven with all the attention.

3. Lana had her well-check visit with our family doctor yesterday. She has gained 8/10's of a pound and grown an inch and a half since she's been with us. The doctor didn't seem concerned about this, so, I'm trying not to be. She's only 36.8 pounds. She's wearing size 5 or 5T pants, though, and when she first came home, her 4T pants were a little long. (So, I wonder if she hasn't actually grown more like 2.5 inches instead of 1.5), but, we can only put her in the pants with adjustable waists on the inside. Anything else falls right off of her. She's just such a tiny little thing and it's hard sometimes to get food into her.) She also got 3 more immunizations. OUCH. (I will admit that I have never been present for the shots. I haven't attended an immunization visit for either of my kids since Gabriel's first one. After which the nurses asked Husband to not to let me come again for a visit involving shots if it could be helped...yes, I am pathetic.)

4. We had parent-teacher conferences for Gabriel on Friday morning. He's doing find academically, but, his teacher tells us he seems 'sad'. I know Gabe is really missing his best friend, who moved to Kansas City in August. It's been really hard for him to not have his best friend, and his teacher encouraged us to try to set up some more playdates with some other children in his class. I should have been doing this since Doug moved away, and I'm feeling hugely guilty about the fact that I haven't done this for him.

5. I cannot get this song out of my head. It's a One Republic song called "Apologize" remixed with Timbaland in the background. I don't actually like Timbaland, but, this song is sticking with me. You can watch a video of it here.

6. Husband bought me a device that plugs into my Zune, and then into my cigarette lighter, and then broadcasts my music through my car radio. The other day it was running while I was driving Lana to school, and we had listened to Depeche Mode's "Master and Servant", followed by a Alison Kraus's "Take Me For Longing", followed by The Killers "Somebody Told Me". And I actually had the following thought go through my head. "I really love this station. They are playing the best music this morning." Yeah. Because it's MY MP3 PLAYER (Idiot! Slaps forehead). Evidently I'm kind of a ditz in the morning. And also musically schizophrenic.

LM

Big Old Ugly Mess

I've been quiet. I've been quiet because I haven't been sure what, exactly, I want to say, but, it's time to not be quiet anymore.

I'm following the advice of Maggie Kuhn (founder of the Gray Panthers, a very interesting social activist, you can read about her here ), who advised "Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes."

(Incidentally, she also said, "Learning and Sex until rigor mortis" which is definitely a concept I can support vehemently. ;-) ) (Sorry, trying to lighten the mood of what is likely going to be a pretty heavy post.)

There are several disturbing things going on with adoptions in Vietnam. And anyone who is contemplating an adoption from Vietnam should be aware of what those issues are.

The US Embassy in Hanoi was concerned enough about the situation to issue a statement to VVAI , where the statement caused quite a commotion , with angry accusations flying that VVAI had concocted the statement. (Yes, because Christina and Nicki have enough extra time on their hands to impersonate US Government Personnel).

The US Embassy then posted the statement on their own website , which should have brought an end to the commotion, but, controversy continues to swarm. There are parents stuck in Hanoi right now, and no one knows how many families are affected - there have been allegations that as many as 20 families have been denied US entry visas for their children, because the US government is not satisfied that the children the families have adopted were legitimately available for adoption.

I cannot even begin to fathom the horror, the emotional turmoil, the nightmare those parents are going through. I do not doubt that their pain is indescribable.

And I have to wonder what, exactly, will happen to these children now. If the petitions of their American families are denied, will the children be returned to their birth families? I don't know the answer to that question. It haunts me.

When Husband and I decided to grow our family, we made a CONSCIOUS DECISION not to have another biological child. And while I have never questioned that decision, I have occasionally felt a bit melancholy about it (see my post Requiem for Veronica ). I don't want to sound flaky or creepy or strange, but, I have to say that I felt, strongly, in the very depths of my soul, that our child, that the child who was MEANT to be with our family, was already here. That he or she was already born and waiting for us to come get him or her.

And I concentrated on FINDING that child, and that child, obviously, was Lana. And finding her was not easy, there were setbacks and heartbreaks and wrong turns and red herrings. But, ultimately, we made our way to Lana . And it was of utmost importance to me, that Lana, our chosen child, our daughter, actually NEEDED a family.

And until this week, I have never doubted, not for once second, that Lana needed us as much as we needed her. I did not doubt that her birth mother made a conscious choice to do what was in Lana's best interest, to do what was in in Lana's birth mother's best interest.

And with all of the news that has come out this week, I pulled Lana's documents out of their folder, and I poured over a piece of paper signed by Lana's birth mother. I stared at her signature for a long time.

And then I put the paper away, and I felt a sense of relief. I do believe that Lana's birth mother signed that document.

And I belileve this, because, also in Lana's file, are multiple reports from my agency regarding Lana's circumstances, regarding attempts to reconcile Lana's birth family, regarding attempts to place Lana with another American family that were derailed by the 2003 Vietnam shutdown.

I hate that I am haunted by questions. I am relieved that I worked with an agency (Holt International) that is widely recognized for completing ethical adoptions.

I think that, as adoptive parents, we need to make sure that the children we bring home REALLY need our homes.

I think that we need to stop attacking eachother and start demanding that our agencies not participate in human trafficking.

We need to care about the circumstances from which our children came, we need to make that a priority. And we need to not be participants in baby-buying.

And to the person who attacked Kelly yesterday, who attacked her anonymously (which was cowardly) and who attacked her very right to speak her mind by suggesting that she should stick to talking about HAIR BOWS - I just want to say that your comments made me physically ill.

I am sure that there are other rude and horrible remarks flying out there on the Internet - that was just the one I saw most recently that propelled me to speak my mind as well.

Let's stop being awful to eachother. Let's start doing the right thing by our children.

LM

Landmines

I've been trying to figure out how to blog about this...bizarre...conversation I had with Lana the weekend before last.

We were at the family wedding we attended the weekend before last. I had taken Lana to the ladies' room, and Lana looked at me and said, "She [the bride] have baby in her belly?"

(Allow me to say that it was, in fact, true, that the bride was pregnant. But, the bride and groom were both 38 years old and never married, and had been engaged for 18 months, and no one was anything but ecstatic for them.)

"Yes," I said. "She has a baby in her belly."

"Ashling [her cousin (not her real name, but, the way that Lana pronounces it)] told me so. Ashling told me 'Nee [Lana's rendition of the bride's name] has baby in her belly."

"Yes, that's right," I said.

Lana then looked at me with a very serious glint in her eye. "You grew Gabriel in your belly?"

I suck air in through my teeth.

Landmine.

"I grew Gabriel in my belly, that's right."

"Aunt S~ [my sister], she grow D~ in her belly?"

"Yes." I nod.

"She grow R~ in her belly, too?"

"Yes. And Ashling, and J~ and M~."*

"Buddy's mom [this is what Lana calls my other sister, whose child is nicknamed Buddy] - Buddy's mom grew Buddy in her belly?"

I nod again. I am waiting for another landmine. I am terrified.

"What about me, mommy? What about Lana? You grow Lana in your belly?"

[Landmine delivered.] I am pretty sure my eyes were as large as proverbial sausage plates at that point.

"No, sweetheart, I didn't. I didn't grow you in my belly."

"Maybe I grow in Daddy's belly?" she asked, hopefully.

"No, honey, Daddies don't grow babies in their bellies."

"Whose belly, mommy? Whose belly grew me? Whose belly grew Lana?" she demanded.

Holy crap. Has she peppered this bathroom with landmines?

Suffice it to say that this was not a conversation I expected to be having with Lana yet.

Certainly not in the LADIES' ROOM in Erie, Pennsylvania in the middle of a wedding reception.

For several seconds, I have a conversation with myself in my head that goes like this:

Me: Holy Mother of God. What the hell do I say?
Me: How the hell do I know?
Me: Why are we having this conversation right now?
Me: You have to tell her SOMETHING.
Me: WHAT?? What do I tell her?
Me: Tell her the truth, idiot.

(Do you think this inner dialogue indicates I might have just a touch of the the crazy?)

I looked at her tiny face.

"Whose belly, mommy?" she repeats.

I step on the landmine and wait for the explosion.

"Her name is Lien**." I said quietly. "Her name is Lien and you grew in her belly in Viet Nam."

I wait for further landmines. They do not come in the form of more questions.

"Let's go dance some more, mommy," Lana says.

The explosions, I think, come later - delayed detonation, perhaps. In the form of the drama/trauma and distress I described last week.

LM

*Yes, my sister, who is 5 ft tall and a size 2, has had FIVE BABIES. A size 2!! FIVE!! BABIES!! How is that even possible?

**Anybody speak enough Vietnamese to tell me how to pronounce Lana's birthmother's name? I have been pronouncing it almost like the name Lianne, but, with more of a soft 'e' sound than an 'a' sound.