Some Things We'll Never Know

Both Monday and Wednesday, I took Grace to buy some new shoes, as she only had her sandals from the orphanage and a cheap pair from Target that got filthy in the rain and construction dust in Guangzhou. When the salewoman tried to fit a shoe on Grace's foot, our little girl completely lost it. When she cries hard, she holds her breath. And this time, she held it a good 8-10 seconds. Her face turned purple and then white, and we had to blow in her face to make her inhale. The same scenario happened again on Wednesday when she tried on a pair of new shoes. With these two instances being the hardest Grace has ever cried, they got my mind working.

When caretakers bring children from the Kunming orphanage to meet their parents, they typically put them in new outfits and new shoes. Appearance is a big deal to the director. I could picture a nanny placing the white and purple sandals on Grace's feet that Monday morning as they prepared to take her away, once again, from familiar surroundings. To Grace, new shoes might represent another uprooting. Another abandonment. I know she generally loves shoes because she brings pairs to me throughout the day for her to switch out on her feet. It's something about new shoes she's never seen before being placed on her feet that terrifies her. In reality, there may be no mental connection at all. But I can't help but wonder if she thought I was getting her ready to leave us.

Another situation I've pondered is the meaning of Grace's burpcloth-sucking as a soothing behavior. The second day we were home, I was feeding Grace her bottle. As I laid her down in the bed, she began to cry. She pulled the burpcloth out of my hands and shoved a corner of it into her mouth. The sobbing subsided, and she sucked on it for most of her nap. Since then, if she's crying hard, I can hand her the burpcloth to soothe her. She'll turn it around until she finds a piece that suits her and goes to town on it. I tried giving her a paci instead because I feared she'd somehow gag on too much material, but she clearly prefers the burpcloth. If I had been attuned to this habit in China, we may have had less tears and more restful sleep. I don't know whether she had a favorite blanket in her foster home that she sucked on. Maybe she first picked up this habit after the tumor-removal surgery on her tongue...perhaps they put gauze in her mouth and this somehow soothed her. I guess we'll never know. But I will have extra clean burpcloths on hand for awhile.

Each night as I look into Grace's eyes at bedtime, I whisper to her in Chinese that I love her. I still get the sweet reaction that I got a few nights ago. She clearly understands me and has heard it before. Did her foster mom tell her she loved her? Did Grace hear the parents tell their own kids that they loved them and has been waiting to hear it herself? She seems so giddy to be loved, as if she's been waiting for someone to cherish her. She makes it easy to love her, that's for sure.

Every day, I wonder about little details of her live in China that we'll most likely never come to know. Sixteen months of my daughter's life is pretty much a mystery. One day she'll have questions for me, and I'm not sure how I'll answer. Kunming did allow a Heritage Trip last summer where families could visit the foster village, and some kids even had the opportunity to meet their foster parents. This was a huge step of progress considering how locked-down the orphanage is on any information or contact. How amazing it would be to meet the family who cared for our little girl for almost a year. In the meantime, I guess I just have to trust God that He will guide us through the questions Grace has for us and help her to see His hand during that time of her life rather than the missing parts in her story.