On October 4, 2002, we received The Call. Somewhere in the province of Jiangxi, in the People’s Republic of China, was a tiny six-month-old baby girl named Feng Yun Gui, and she was ours. The previous fourteen months of waiting melted away, and the next two were spent preparing ourselves and our children for what was about to take place. Bags were packed and childcare was arranged, and on December 4 - two months to the day since we received our referral - we boarded a plane headed for China.

You can see our very own “gotcha” moment here, should your heart desire. It certainly showcases that wonderful moment far more effectively than my words ever could.

Other than the glitch of short-term unemployment, the adoption of our little Maizie was smooth, predictable (albeit L-O-N-G), and successful in every possible way. Maizie was happy and healthy and wriggled her way into the hearts of our family in a nanosecond. We immediately knew that if adoption was this great, we certainly had to give it another whirl.

Just a couple of months after Maizie joined our family, we applied again to adopt from China. This time, however, we knew we were in for a bit of a battle and we thought we were ready. Shortly after our first dossier went to China, the China Center of Adoption Affairs indicated that they would no longer accept applications from families with more than four children already in the home. Still, we knew of several families who’d been granted exceptions to this rule, and our agency felt optimistic that the same would prove to be true in our case. Once again, our dossier went off to China in late August - of 2003 this time - and we began the wait. Months went by with no word, except that referral wait times had dropped dramatically. Finally, just before we were supposed to get our referral, we got word that the CCAA wanted more information from our family. We quickly supplied it and waited again. The next month, more information was requested, and again we complied. The following month found us submitting yet more information while those in our “dossier-to-China” group celebrated the news of their referrals.

Our agency began to express concern over how things were going, and we started to become fearful ourselves. The CCAA was really cracking down on the rules, and NO larger families were being granted exceptions. About that same time, our adoption coordinator mentioned that a new list of waiting children (children with special needs) had been received, and I off-handedly asked about them. She indicated there were a couple with heart problems and offered to let me look at their files. Our coordinator encouraged us to give some real consideration to one of these children because she felt our chances to adopt might increase if we applied for a waiting child. She gave us the weekend to decide and told us if we wanted to pursue one of them, we’d have to let her know immediately. It turned out that our adoption facilitator was in China and preparing to meet with the CCAA early the following week, and having him discuss our family and a particular child might be our only hope.

We received the files of these two little girls, and by “file,” I mean a couple of pictures and very scant medical information – none of the medical reports had been translated from Chinese. We had no way to make an educated decision on our own and frantically tried to find someone who might be able to translate the information. It was Friday evening on Labor Day weekend, so the odds were definitely against us. But with the help of some other adoptive parents, I was able to track down a translator in China and email him the files. I had no idea when or if he’d respond, or if he’d be willing to help us.

In the meantime, we prayed like crazy. Both little girls were beautiful, but how in the world could we choose? The hours ticked by, and we finally received some basic medical information from the translator in China. It was a bunch of values from echocardiograms, and other stuff that meant nothing to us, so we took a chance and emailed the information to the pediatric cardiologist one of our biological children used to see. Once again, we had no idea when or if he’d respond, but we continued to pray and pray for guidance.

Miraculously, my husband and I, while praying individually, received unmistakable inspiration about which child we should apply for. We had no idea how serious her heart problem was or what it would take to fix it, but we knew she was ours. I remember the emotions that flooded my mind as I prayed, and the thought that I didn’t need to worry came to me repeatedly.

So, as it turned out, we knew which child was for us without the help of doctors or tests or any of the other “things of this world.” We smiled when we finally got the reply from the cardiologist, one day after we made our decision. Sofie had a moderate ventricular septal defect, and it may or may not need surgery. OK, then. :o)

(And, dear readers, fret not about the other little girl who was not to be ours. With her parents’ permission, I will be happy to recount the truly miraculous events that led her to her forever family at a later time.)

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