So Happy Together

It's hard to believe that we received our son only two days ago. A combination of jet lag, which we are all battling mightily, and a flood of new emotions have combined to really mess up our sense of time. Each day, though, we seem to recover a few lost hours of sleep and An seems to be getting more used to us and his new life. What can I say about him so far? Well, he's a sweet, happy kid, just like he seems to be in the pictures I posted yesterday. He's got an impish grin that slays me each time I see it. It's clear that we was well-cared for and loved at the orphanage, for which we are very grateful. He responds well to affection and reaches out for it when he needs it. Our biggest hurdle right now is the language barrier. He's vocal at times when he's excited and is assertive with sign and body language when he wants something. Our Vietnamese hosts kindly translate as much as they can. The biggest part of his day so far is going to the lobby of the hotel and taking in the huge fish tanks. "Ca!" (Fish!) he shouts, as he looks to me for affirmation and agreement.

I could fill an entire book of reflections on what it has been like for us the past few days. The adoption process aside for a moment, I had no idea what a treat it would be to visit this country. The people are so deeply warm and friendly and sincere. No matter where we go, people are polite and helpful. They seem genuinely interested in our visit. It's been a humbling lesson in hospitality for the jaded American in me. Other than the sweltering heat, it's a delight to be here. My only regret is that the nature of our visit doesn't really allow for meaningful sightseeing or other tourist related activities. However, just going from appointment to appointment in the van through the city provides more than enough opportunity to see what a vibrant and social country this is. It will be interesting to see how our impressions of Hanoi, approximately 1,000 to the miles north, compare to Ho Chi Minh City.

More later. Now, it's time for a morning bowl of pho.

Words Fail Me

It's been an incredibly moving 24 hours. Please see our web album for some of the pictures. I'll add more detail later but everything has gone very well thus far. The process is actually moving a little faster than we thought it would. It's possible we'll head to Hanoi before the end of the week. Love from all of us in Ho Chi Minh City.

Feelin' Type-A In Taipei

I couldn't resist the opportunity to blog from the free internet kiosks next to our gate here in the Taipei International Airport. We had a surprisingly pleasant flight from Seattle but are looking forward to relaxing at our hotel in Ho Chi Minh City. Eva Airlines rules!

For the cramped and weary, international coach-class traveler laying over in Taipei, the free massage chairs are not to be missed! It's like a La-z-boy on steroids. I feel like a new man.

And It's Off to Vietnam!

Above is a picture Greta drew of our trip a few months ago. It's been hanging up in the dining room ever since. From the left, there is Mollia, Greg holding Greta on his shoulders, and An. In the upper right-hand corner you can see the airplane flying away. Greta has explained that this drawing represents us having successfully returned home from our trip with her new brother. I can only hope we are this happy when we get home. We leave for the airport in just a couple of hours. With any luck, the next post will be from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

Jitters

With less than 24 hours to go before we fly out of Seattle, we officially have the jitters. Actually, we've had them for a few days. There are just so many details to fret about, upon which we must decide or undecide. There is the traveling, and all of the things that could or could not go wrong, depending on how we prepare or fail to prepare. And then there is the nearly inconceivable event of meeting our son and executing an adoption in a foreign country. Will this be a dream trip or a something less than dreamy? We simply don't know. There are seemingly an infinite number of details we cannot predict and over which we have no control.

Control. It is the lack of control above all that is the most distressing, of course. It is such a convenient and seductive illusion. We almost never think to question our possession of self-control, especially in a democratic, free-market, free-speech society. As Americans, we consider self determination a divinely imparted right. Just ask George W. Bush. He'll tell you all about it. But when we step out of our comfort zone of consumer culture and into the dicey realms of love, marriage, children, and family, it becomes painfully obvious that control is something one hopes to maintain over one's bladder. And even that is short-lived, at best.

As I was putting Greta to sleep tonight, she was singing some song with the word "anxious" in it. I have no idea what it was, but it went on and on. I wasn't paying much attention, as I was just wanting her to go to sleep, finally, so that I could re-focus on packing and crossing every last thing off of my several lists. She paused in her song for moment and asked, "What does anxious mean?"

"It means excited and sometimes it means nervous or worried," I told her.

"You and Mommy are anxious," she said with what seemed like obvious satisfaction.

Big sister's got that right.

Growing Up And Down

I awoke today to my 40th birthday, realizing that life makes us bigger than we ever imagined we could be. Like the universe, we expand and open up to an ever-growing series of horizons and vistas. There is no true end to this process. There is no epiphany so great that will allow us to offer a complete summary of who and what we really are. We are the never-ending, growing flux we see reflected in the world. While the aging process takes an undeniable toll on the body, it seems to have the opposite effect on the mind, spirit, and soul of the individual. These domains ripen within us independent of the pile-up of years, or perhaps because of them. We grow up, physically, and then down to take on the world's burdens and joys and its earthly delights and are thus able to penetrate more deeply into the widening mystery our lives ultimately become.

I know this sounds like I'm jumping wildly off-topic for a blog about our imminent adoption, but growing has made me philosophical. What fatherhood and adoption have made me realize is that we come to see traces of ourselves everywhere we go and that all of these images belong to us, deeply and truly, more than we ever give ourselves time to consider. But if we did spend more time thinking about our reflections in the world, we would struggle less against ourselves and in so doing we would struggle less against one another.

So when I see a picture like this from half a world away:

I see me. I see us. I see the universal We.

Almost Famous

One of the stranger chapters in this process has been the celebrity factor, for lack of a better term. Anyone who follows that kind of news knows that Angelina Jolie recently adopted a child from Vietnam. Because Mollia has the intuition of a clarivoyant on steroids, she knew immediately that Angelina was picking up her child from Tam Binh, the same orphanage where our boy is. And the more the story developed in the press, her suspicions were confirmed. Furthermore, we learned that Angelina was adopting a boy in the same age range as our boy, An. I won't detail the level of anxiety Mollia went through when she worried that Angelina was going to take our son, but there were a few days where she almost convinced herself of it. Evidently, the mother bear instinct is so strong that it operates independently of extreme geography.

I myself was more amused by the coincidence and played with the fantasy of Mollia and I getting into a custody battle with the most powerful couple in Hollywood. I thought it would make an incredibly dramatic film on its own, The Social Worker And The Waldorf Teacher vs. Brangelina! It was exciting to imagine our war of words appearing in the paper each day. I started mentally preparing for our press conferences. Alternatively, I visualized that our boy had been a playmate of little Pax and that the Pitt-Jolie's would soon be sending us an invitation to us to come their mansion in the Hollywood Hills, so that the boys could stay in touch and adjust to their new country together. I saw us taking trips together all over the world.

Turns out the fantasy wasn't so far-fetched. At a pre-travel meeting at our adoption agency on Thursday, the Director confirmed that Pax and An were part of a group of boys that played together regularly. We have been in touch with a couple of other families whose boys are playmates of our son and who want to be in contact with us. We are still waiting for our invitation from Brangelina. I know they've been busy, maybe I should give them a call so we can hook up after we get back.