The journey's end

I never wrote an end to my blog. I never summed up those closing chapters as I always intended. I left this story hanging, open ended and uncertain, a little lost. Almost the same way I felt I was when I returned to the States. I took that last week or so to try and explore and see all of the "must see" sights of China, more because I knew I would be ashamed to return to America and tell everyone I never even bothered to see the Great Wall of China then because I had a great urge to see it at the time. It is an awesome and historical sight. As are many of the famous sights of China. Unfortunately most of them seemed to have been dressed up to look pretty for visitors and had lost some of that deep feeling of history that they should carry. The scars and scuffs are what show the true story of those that lived before, in my opinion. The fresh coat of paint only serves to hide the stories that make all of those lives seem so real. But as amazing as squeezing in seeing all of these sights was for me, it was a rough time. I wasn't ready to write this blog. I didn't really have time for it, but nor did I want to make time for it. I had to say good bye to my children, my friends who were continuing to sacrifice their lives to care for these children I loved and wished I could protect, and the sense of purpose and meaning I had found in my life. It made it so much harder knowing I couldn't even see the clear purpose I had in returning home. I had never intended to stay. I had all of my perfect plans set out very logically, but when it came down to it I was leaving those I knew who needed me. Any one who knows me would realize who terrible and crushing a burden that was to me, especially with no equally profound purpose in sight I was leaving it for. Plans down the road to achieve, but ultimately no tangible reason with in reach. And that last week I spent sight seeing was just another week I had lost with the babies I loved. I probably needed it emotionally, but giving yourself the emotional time you "need", doesn't mean you know what to do with it or that it will actually help you. I had lost my baby, he had died in my arms, and I had to say good bye to my little girl knowing I would probably never see her again, and if she wasn't adopted she probably wouldn't survive long enough for me to be legally able to adopt her. Those two, on top of leaving everyone else were just about more than I could handle at the time.

Then I returned to America where everything that was so different, was disturbingly completely the same. As prepared as I was to handle so much, I wasn't prepared to handle that. I returned to a boyfriend who loved and missed me, and was so grateful to be able to spend some of the time with me that he hadn't been able to all of the last ten months, and a family who were so happy to no longer have to worry about me living on the other side of the world so far from their support and protection. As much as my mother tried to never bother me with her concern and worry, I know it had been very hard for her. It was wonderful to be back with them again, but those first few days and weeks left me feeling a little lost. Walking into rooms with people speaking in English and being able to understand every word that was said, with all sorts of conversations and interactions thrust upon me was overwhelming. I went to visit some of the places that I had usually gone before and felt like a complete stranger. I'd walk in and every one would talk to me and include me, used to the enthusiastic all involved person I normally was, and all I wanted was to sit back and be left alone. I was used to observing, and coupled with the fact I no longer felt like I could belong there was exhausting. I'd try and sit back, and inevitably some well meaning person would approach and ask the dreaded question "How was China?!", " I bet you had tons of fun!!". How was I supposed to answer that? What could I say to that obviously socially acceptable and well meant question that no one wanted a true answer to? It made me angry to hear it. It wasn't fair, or even reasonable. I understood that on a logical level, but it didn't help me from feeling trapped and put upon. When people ask many questions it is simply to make others feel comfortable with the flow of conversation, and have no desire for deep or difficult answers that will kill conversations or make others feel awkward. There is an expected "right" answer to most social questions, but I have never been able to be ok with a dishonest easy answer. I couldn't lie and give the expected "Of course! It was a blast!" Nor did I have the right to thrust the harsh social awareness of the experience on them with a reply that passed through my mind like "I cared for babies abandoned by every one who should love them most and had infants die in my arms while doing everything I could for the others who even if they were able to survive childhood probably had no future to speak of, but yeah, who wouldn't have a blast!" I had chosen the realities I lived, and as harsh as many of them were, they were also some of the most beautiful moments of my life. The random acquaintances I ran into weren't looking for that, nor had they made the choice to confront those harsh realities. It took time, but I was able to settle on a vague, but sincere answer of "It was a very rewarding experience" With the addendum of "As with everything, there were both good and bad experiences". 

Many months later my thoughts of those experiences are much less raw and much more bittersweet. I have pictures of my little ones up around my apartment that both make me smile and tug at my heart. There are still times that I think of those I lost and I tear up and have to take a moment to catch my breath. Thankfully they are not too frequent, but I wouldn't give them up. Those children deserve to always be remembered and missed. I have since learned that my little girl and many of the little ones I cared for have been adopted and brought home to new families in America where they can be loved and have access to a real future. While a part of me was sad that they couldn't be mine, so much more of me could not thank God enough for bringing them home in safety. Hearing that gave me hope that I had needed and makes me smile even now. I was blessed to be able to read the blog written by the mother of my little girl as they brought her home. I suppose I shouldn't call her mine anymore, more so I am hers because while she has her own family she will always have a piece of my heart, and I am ok with that. There is a new future starting for all of them, just as it has for me. I don't know what God has planned for me, or if I will ever be able to return someday. I can only learn and grow and hope that I am prepared for what ever or where ever he needs me to be next. God bless all! I think that is officially the close of this story of my life.