We Gotcha Ray!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This morning while talking to my mother she said, “Well, I guess the blogging will come to a halt today.” I knew what she meant. Children have a way of changing the routines of their parents – for the better. Yet, since the second son of Rosalie and me is now sleeping (as is his grandfather) I’ll throw a few words together in a pathetic attempt to describe meeting a young boy made in the image of God, a young boy whom God has entrusted to Rose and me.

It must be said at the outset that adoption is a most beautiful gift to parents. I am but five hours into being an adoptive father and I’m in awe. Sure, the roller coaster has pulled out of the gate; yet the courage of Raymond Fuhe Dang Seeley is humbling to a man who has never really, truly – at its most core – struggled a day in his life. (Even the hardest of work should never cloud one’s reality)

...As you know, I awoke at 4am this morning and made myself busy as best as possible. At 8:30am Dad, May, and I had another wonderful breakfast, and by 10am it was time to finally leave for the Civil Affairs office in Harbin. Song loaded us up and away pulled the van. I immediately called Rose to let her know my whereabouts.

Within 20 minutes we pulled up to a gate, Song honked the horn and it opened, and in the van went. We piled out, when into the red brick building, up multiple flights of stairs to get to, I believe, the third floor. The Civil Affairs Director (Ms. Meng) and an administrator (Lynne) greeted us.

Our time was spent in a very large conference room, which had an outside wall to the hallway made completely of glass. We exchanged pleasantries, and I shared information about Rose, Julia, Ben, and Elizabeth. It’s not clear whether the Ms. Meng knew we had three children, but she seemed surprised Ray would be fitting into the mix of a six, four, and almost-two year old. Of course, her amazement paled in comparison to when I shared the picture of Rose with her 11 siblings.

We then started to mix in paperwork details, which were apparently modest in comparison to what tomorrow will bring. To share the bluntness of adoption, as compared to the love of it, the documents I signed today gave Rose and me 24-hour custody of Ray. This is done to allow parents the possibility of withdrawing from their commitment. Tomorrow will make it official.

Then all of the sudden – nevermind the build up of a year, it was all of the sudden to me – they said, “The child is here, Dang Fu He is here.” I immediately looked up and saw our little boy walking with a woman along the glass wall. It was hard to process that in a few seconds he’d be in the room.

And then there he was, wearing a top and a jacket we had sent in his care package, and thick red sweat pants and shoes from the orphanage.

There would be no over-under betting on whether I would cry at this moment, because everyone would know I would, especially me. But the tears didn’t come, nor were they even at the top of the ducts. I could, however, feel them deep within my heart.

There was a sadness never before experienced, as I watched my son be so scared, so frightened. Rose and I heard about, read about, and talked about the trauma for the child, and there it was wrapped within the very eyes we had fallen in love with.

I had expected for Ray to be placed on the table, as that is what happened with Mario, when he was adopted by our dear friends Jim and Angel; so it threw me for a little loop when that didn’t happen. They kept him near the entrance of the conference room and slowly brought Ray forward.

“This is your daddy, this is your daddy” it seemed was said over and over in Chinese. What could that really mean to Ray? I know he is a little person with his own thoughts and ideas, yet to process that moment, let alone the next two weeks, wasn’t feasible.

I took some of the toys we brought out of the backpack. There was a mini soccer ball and some matchbox cars. He gathered them up, but wouldn’t look at me, and who could blame him.

His teacher had him sit down, so I sat down across from him by about six feet. Slowly and surely I moved myself around the invisible circle we were both sitting on together, until I was near him. I just kept smiling and smiling, wanting him to see warmth, such that maybe he’d want to feel warmth too.

Then – and I don’t remember what prompted me, but it wasn’t Ray – I just scooped him up, and stood up. The ecstasy of the moment was jolted by me realizing just how heavy he was! The newest son of ours is one solid little boy. I could feel him trying to get down, but I just adjusting and adjusting him so he couldn’t.

Ms. Meng recommended we move into the playroom next door. I hopped into one of those ball bins with him. His teacher than did a pretty cool thing and that was have him hand me about 10 straight balls, and each time said, “Give the ball to your daddy” in Chinese. Then I gave them back to him in return. Afterwards, we played with the cars on a little ramp.

There still was no warming up, and for the first time tears started to roll down his cheeks.

This isn’t intended to take away from the seriousness of the moment, but the seriousness of the moment was lessened with candy. Ms. Meng knows what she is doing.

Ray’s teacher then left, and I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Was Ms. Meng leaving, too? She did not, and within a few minutes she led us back into the conference room. We talked about the next day’s activities, and I gave her the gifts from Rose and me, which was a bag with a Maryland scene on both sides, and a little bowl with a crab impression on it, and crab soup inside. Oh, and Berger Cookies (Kate – they’re one part cookie, and three parts chocolate).

With the activity – the shoes going back on, and the jackets coming on – Ray was getting more and more nervous. Again, he tried to get down, and again I held him firmly, and closely.

It was then time to leave, and we backtracked down the same steps and to the outside. Song was not there, but a new driver. I carried Ray into the van and into the back. We took off. And Ray began to cry the saddest cry I’ve ever heard. It wasn’t loud, it was low, and it was deep. Fortunately he let me hold him, with his head on my shoulder and my cheek on top of his face.

The crying continued and then May sang a very quick song, which while it didn’t change anything, it reminded me that I should be singing to him. The ABC’s it was (my repertoire is limited.). What also was, was more candy. I burned through four pieces of little Brachs butterscotch suckers, and a lollipop. Those stopped the crying.

The ride back to the hotel was short. When we pulled up the doorman offered to hold Ray while I got out, yet I politely refused. I continued to hold him up the steps, through the revolving door, and up the elevator. The American – one of only two American’s in this hotel this week – had now just walked through the lobby with a little Chinese boy. Everyone has been sweet, and one wonders what those folks think.

Ray was still very quiet when we entered the room. I plopped him on the bed and started to think about what toys to play with, but then realized he must have been hot, so I took him down to his PJ’s, which the orphanage had on him – the ones we gave him.

Once I felt like he was hanging out okay I Skyped Rose, who had been waiting patiently and patiently since we last spoke at 9:20am. I don’t remember the time of when I called, but my dad said we had been at the Civil Affairs office for about 90 minutes, so it could have easily been two-plus hours for Ray’s mother. I will always remember, though, Rose saying, “Just make sure Ray is okay, concentrate on Ray. This is about him.” His mother has already blessed him with unselfishness.

I pointed the laptop video camera at Ray while he played on the bed, with my dad on the floor, so Rose could gather him up into her eyes. Then I recounted as best as possible the morning. And I don’t know when or why, but Ray began to open up…and open up. He was showing my dad the photo album, and saying “ba ba” (daddy) when he saw my picture.

The next hour was pure joy, and it included me feeding him rice and egg and custard pie with chopsticks (now I know where that belly of my boy’s came from), and throwing the ball around the room.

Eventually it became time for a nap, so we said good-bye to Rose. Like a true Seeley child, he didn’t fall asleep for another 45 minutes, just rolling around and playing and generally being a stinker.

But then he nodded off next to his father.

We did it sweetie. Your son is beautiful. Your God is good.

Ray's dad,

Demian