Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh

My baby girl is the first child ever with thalassemia to live from her orphanage. First.Child.Ever. All of the others with thalassemia did not survive. Not one survivor. Some of the children who did not survive I met personally. I held them in my arms. Knowing this, and how easily she could have been one to not survive is something I am mindful of each time I witness her radiant smile; each time I hear what a beautiful child she is; and each time she snuggles close to me and tells me "mama I love you so, so much". She is my miracle adoption, in so many ways. She is a living miracle.





Hannah Joy is the first, and a child named Ayla is the second. Ayla and Hannah Joy were at the orphanage at the same time. They were "orphanage sisters", who would go to transfusion days together. Ayla was very, very sick when the orphanage let me know about her. Her first photos were truly heartbreaking. Yet God, being in the business of miracles, transformed this precious child by giving her the love of a family whose mother has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know. Her mother is a warrior mom who shows such grace as she works tirelessly to ensure that her beautiful child receives all that she needs. My hope and prayer is that someday our families can meet and these orphanage sisters can be reunited.

Today, the third child ever with thalassemia from this orphanage arrives home with her parents with her two sisters. Another miracle. When I first saw her photos, there was something that reminded me of Hannah Joy. Perhaps it was the twinkle in her eye, or her closed mouth smile. When her family learned about her, they raced at warp speed to try to bring her home. She would be a "pre-identified" adoption, something that is not for the faint of heart. Again, God, being in miracles, would ensure that her file was quickly transferred by one of the most ethical adoption agencies I know. This agency understands that the situation for children with thalassemia in Guangxi is dire, and would forego profit in order to ensure this child made it home alive.

Now there are three survivors. Three. Each a gift to each family. I am reminded of the three gifts given by the wise men who visited baby Jesus. Gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Gifts so treasured at the time, just like these three beloved baby girls. Girls who are actually treasured more than any object could ever be.

There are three more baby girls with thalassemia waiting from this orphanage. Waiting in the midst of a very critical blood shortage. Sweet girls we were able to meet and play with. One of them has been waiting a while, and appears very, very pale. My prayer is that she can survive the wait. That they all can survive the wait. Three more gifts, just waiting to join their families. I hope and pray that next year, just like this year, the world will know of three more sweet girls with thalassemia who are orphans no more. Three more survivors. Three more who beat the odds. Three more precious gifts.

Loving Meimei

Those who have known me for a long time have known that growing up I always wanted a sister. As a child I would ask my mom to have another baby, and she would lovingly answer that maybe I would receive another brother. I continued to pray that someday I would have a sister. In 2002, with the adoption of Katelyn, God answered my prayers. I would become a big sister to a young girl who tenderly took care of many children to prepare them for adoption. I would receive the gift of having a sister in my life. God not only gave me a daughter in 2002, He gave me a sister. He gave me Meimei.










Over the years we shared our lives the best as two sisters could, by writing letters and by spending time through visits to China. We shared of our major life experiences, and of the little details as we navigated everyday life. We relied on good friends to translate, although many experiences we shared were beyond words. We came to know and understand each other's life story. We treasured the gift of getting together, and we both would cry when we needed to say goodbye. I got the privilege of watching her fall in love and marry. She got the privilege of watching me become a mother to each of my daughters, and of hearing of my dating woes.

In 2008, Meimei found out she would become a mother. She shared with me the details of her pregnancy. We celebrated from afar when in May 2009 she gave birth to her child, a beautiful baby boy. His name was Hanhan. She and her husband were so happy. It was incredibly special to meet my new nephew for the first time, and see his parents faces glowing with pride and joy in fall of 2009.




Over the past 4+ years I watched him grow and change. There are not words to explain the precious times we all spent together. My meimei was a natural mother, and her little boy was thriving and becoming such a wise, kind, and gentle soul. Just like his mother.




On May 9th, a few days after his 5th birthday, the unspeakable happened. Little Hanhan was playing with his cousin around a pond. Both children fell in and drowned. Word arrived from my friends and I could not believe it. I had to talk to Meimei. Somehow this news must be wrong. Someone must be mistaken. Meimei told me about what happened. She was numb. We talked for several hours about him, what her plans were for him. We talked about where he still wanted to go, and what he still wanted to do. Meimei never cried once during the conversation. I grew increasingly worried about my younger sister, and prayed for the chance to get back to China to see her.

A few months ago, in September, I received word from a mutual friend of myself and meimei. She would be traveling back to China to see meimei and wondered if I could go. It was then that I looked at airfare, finding prices that were lower than I had seen in months. I knew God was giving me the chance to go back to see my younger sister. Gone were my fears of traveling to China with four young children.I just knew I had to get there. Meimei was the primary purpose of this trip, and I had to get back to see her. I had to grieve with her. The orphanage work and trainings were secondary. This trip never would have happened if it were not for meimei.

Once I arrived in China, I learned that meimei would be sent to the trainings. My heart broke thinking about how she would be able to handle the topics we spoke of; nurturing and caring for children, warmth and affection for children; play for children. I also knew that the topic of managing emotions and finding support would be important for her to hear. Somehow she was meant to be at those trainings. I just prayed that her tender heart would not be further traumatized, but could begin healing.

Teaching days were long, and I often found myself watching her sitting in the third row wondering what she was feeling. I wished that I could stop and talk to her. I needed patience. A few days later we would have our chance.

The day we were finally able to be alone together I could see the sadness in her eyes up close. I touched her arm and she began to cry. She cried softly much of our train ride as we sat side by side. Finally, 6 months after her young son was taken too soon, she could cry.

Watching anyone mourn is not something that is fun to do. It would be easier to pretend that such a pain does not exist. How I wish that this pain did not exist. My little sister has endured more tragedy in her young life than I can ever imagine, and now her life is forever changed by a senseless accident. I have heard from others who have lost a child that it is the most painful experience one can endure. I completely believe it, without any doubt. I cannot even fathom trying to bear this pain alone, as Meimei has done for the past 6 months. She is unable to express grief with family and friends as I was told that culturally this just is not done. She has been unable to share her pain with anyone, she told me, until I came. As difficult as it is to watch my sweet younger sister's pain, I know that God placed us together 12 years ago knowing that this day would come.

During our trip, we were able to spend 11 days with meimei. We spent one day at the beach. Meimei told me that her son had asked her to take him there one day, so I knew we needed to go. As I watched her looking out unto the vast ocean, I wondered what she was thinking. I offered a prayer that somehow she could put to rest the haunting that her son's spirit was somehow lost and scared or reincarnated. I prayed that she could know her son was in a better place, waiting for her to get there someday. I prayed that somehow she could be comforted and that someday she might feel peace.



When we left China, leaving meimei behind was difficult and I wished that it didn't need to happen. She has agreed to apply for a passport, and to try to come stay with us for a while here in the US. It is a long shot as visas leaving China, even for a short visit, are hard to come by. But I have to believe that there is a good chance God will make it possible for her to come. And thanks to modern technology, we are now able to stay in touch through text every day. I can type in english, she can type in characters, and the program will give us each a rough translation of what the other is saying. It brings me some comfort knowing that I can still communicate with her and be present to her as her big sister despite being so far away.

When I became a big sister to meimei 12 years ago, I never imagined that our lives would lead here. To this moment. I don't think I completely understood that loving her would mean her joy would bring me joy and her pain would bring me pain. Yet, that is the way it is with family. That is the way it is with sisters. I am so lucky that God gave me meimei. I am so grateful for all that she has given to us, and how she has enriched our lives. And I am forever humbled by the gift to stand by her and love her.

Knowing Hope

I was going to begin to share about our latest adventures by starting with the trainings we did for directors, deputy directors, and orphanage caregivers. In two provinces. These trainings were huge, really, in terms of both the number of people who attended and also with the information shared through content. My head still spins thinking about it. But, what has been on my heart for the past 48 hours since arriving home has been the babies and children we met. And that is where I need to start.

There is something sacred about walking into a place where orphans live and sometimes die. Orphans. The word is thrown around so casually everyday that perhaps it is easy to forget to fully comprehend the meaning. Walking into those places however, it is impossible not to understand. Sweet little faces, each with a story. Sweet little faces, all without families. Sweet little faces, some very sick. Sweet little faces, some with significant disabilities. Sweet little faces, each one a person, a living, breathing little life.

It is an honor to be able to walk into an orphanage and love the children who live there. It is a gift I will not take for granted. Ever. Others have wanted to visit, and have been told "no" or "it's not possible". Others have tried to get through the doors to make a difference, only to be turned away. I honestly am humbled that I am trusted and will remain true to my promise to offer help and hope. This is a very conservative province, where year after year little lives go unwitnessed. It is a privilege to speak the stories of the children who touched our lives there.

Several days ago, at one of the orphanages, we met a baby. Her little body was so weak. Her abdomen was swollen. She was jaundiced. Repeatedly, we were told "it's too late". - As I picked her up, her body molded into mine. If I put her down, she would begin to softly cry. Her eyes held a curiosity, a sadness, a desperation, a sweetness. I held her as much as I could, and when we returned a few days later, I held her again. As my daughters, friends and I marveled at her, and loved her, we needed to give her a name. We had just met a little one whose Chinese name meant Joy. It was perfect for that baby. For this little one, who carried the label of "too late" we quickly came up with Hope. Hope is perfect for this baby. She embodies true hope that somehow her life is meaningful. She embodies true hope that somehow the future will be better. She embodies true hope that the world will know of her life, despite how long or short it is, and that her life matters.

Since meeting Hope, we consulted with MD's in Shanghai. We were told that they will be unable to help her. Her only chance is perhaps to come here to the US for treatment, possibly a liver transplant. Her orphanage has agreed to take her for follow up tests tomorrow and give us the results to share with doctors here. They have sent us her original liver ultrasound from back in June, when she was only given a month to live. We will now have a comparison and can get a sense of how quickly her liver is becoming damaged. The orphanage staff are giving her the high calorie formula we brought with us from here due to the generosity of so many people who helped to support this trip. People who helped support baby Hope.

As we prepared to say goodbye, I whispered one last time that she was known and loved. I whispered gratitude for her fighting spirit and the time to hold her tight. I whispered sorrow for enduring all that she has endured in her short little life. I whispered determination that we would leave no stone unturned in trying to help her. And I whispered hope that we would one day meet again.

She deserves a chance. She deserves to have people willing to fight for her life. She deserves to be known and I will not let her down. Regardless of the outcome, little Hope, just like all of the little ones we met, has a legacy.

Her life has been witnessed and I will never been the same.