Gotcha Day

(Written by Marcus)

Gotcha Day is a bittersweet day of unpredictability. Bittersweet could describe the entire adoption process, but especially this day—a day of leaving all that is known and familiar and moving towards a family of strangers. 

It’s a day to mourn the losing of biological family;

It’s a day to celebrate the finding of forever family.

It’s a painful day of tearing away;

It’s a joyous day of grafting in.

It’s a day of new trauma; 

It’s a first day of healing.  

It’s a day focused on orphans,

who are orphans no more! 

Having been through this once before, we were able to set our expectations properly. By that, I mean we had the sense to know that the range of experiences on gotcha day are broad—anything can happen—so in one hand (maybe the pessimist’s hand) you set your expectations at the very bottom and await deep sorrow, many tears, and even resistance; in the other hand, you grip tight to hope that the child is well-prepared, shows healthy hesitation, and slowly warms throughout the day. 

The first part of our morning (this was Monday) was much like others before. We woke up at 5-something in the morning, had breakfast, and came back to the room to prepare (if that’s possible). At breakfast, I caught Lindsey in the same nervous pose from almost 3 years ago (on Ellie’s Gotcha Day). 

On Ellie's

On Ezra's (no, she wasn't dipping her doughnut in ketchup)

We left at 9:30 with the other two adoptive families, who were also adopting children around 4 years old. At the civil affairs office, we shuffled into a very warm Adoption Registry room. 

The Adoption Registry Room

When we first walked into the room, there sat a young Chinese boy of maybe 9 years old, visibly nervous, resting back against the comforting arms of a male caretaker. Lindsey and I both noticed that he had a repaired cleft lip, which instantly draws our affection. Shortly after we arrived, they left the room and had their gotcha day in another room with their Italian forever family. I’ll get back to them in a minute…sorry, this is going to be a long post. 

We weren’t seated for long (honestly, I never sat…too nervous) when in walked our Ezra. They announced his name, “HanBei,” to identify his adopted parents. We motioned—we belong to him, and he belongs to us. Meeting the first of our hopeful expectations, he was clearly well-prepared, because he appeared to recognize Lindsey. He walked toward her with a shy smile, and she took him right in with her mama heart. 

The Walk to Mama

From the pre-travel videos and photographs, we'd noticed that he often has an inquisitive and questioning look on his face; we saw the same expressions right away. Without words, his face asked all the questions. Initial answers came from Lindsey’s smile, but we lacked words—Mandarin or English—to reassure him entirely. He cried no tears, but his furrowed brow continued the inquiry: What is happening? Who are you? Are you safe?  

Questioning Eyes

And the bonding began. Lindsey showed him the matchbox cars we brought, which proved to be less exciting than the huge pile of toys our co-travelers brought along, which he eyed and borrowed. We kept him near by sharing treats and drinks. Lindsey doted. 

Dum-Dums Always Help

We got a first picture with Mama and Baba. 

Mama, Baba, and Ezra

Being of universal boyhood, he and I had our first bonding moment with matchbox car crash-up derby, followed by a first lesson in “how to make ramps with random objects." 

Crash-Up Derby

Making Ramps with Random Objects

First meetings on gotcha day are all different. After the first 30 minutes, ours was right in the middle of the continuum, which is actually a wonderful way to start. He was well-prepared, but not over-eager; he came to us without resistance, but with some suspicion; and he warmed progressively, but slowly. Adoptive bonding is a very long-distance race—with that in mind, our first 30 minutes were pretty perfect! 

The formal adoption paperwork includes a family photograph, which is taken in the Adoption Registry room; so after maybe 30 minutes with Ezra, the Italian couple with the 9-year old came into the room with their new son. While all our kids seemed to be coming along, he still had tears in his eyes and sniffles in his nose as he tried to find composure for a photo. My heart bursted for him—and them. What a scary and difficult experience; to top it off, most of the Chinese guides speak English and Mandarin, and this couple spoke neither. As they walked out of the room, I wanted to hug them a reassuring hug. But, lacking real language to explain my affront, I simply greeted them with “Bonjourno,” while I prayed with tears for their journey. I didn't expect my first tears on this trip to be for another family and child, but the heart is moved when the heart is moved. Jumping forward in the story, we saw them the next day at the civil affairs office again and the boy was skipping down the hallway next to his mama with a big smile. That did my heart good…so good.      

After some paperwork, we headed back to the bus en route to the hotel. Holding Ezra's hand as we walked, I picked him up as we approached the elevator and then carried him out of the building. While we waited, he leaned into me and put his head on my shoulder for a few seconds—my first hug, within the first hour, totally unexpected! Then he pulled back and gently pressed his head against mine with the sweetest look on his face. Bonding may be a long-distance race, but man, what a powerful way to get going!   

Bond Away!

Back at the hotel, he was all mama’s boy. He stayed close in the elevator (he still smiles when he sees himself in the mirror). 

Mirror Mirror

 He held mama’s hand in the hallway. 

Hallway Hand-Holding

Mama found the first giggles during a tickling game with the little toy guys. 

First Laughs

Wanting to stay together in our own private area, we ordered in room service for lunch. Wonton soup seemed to be a safe choice, and it proved true. Quickly he demonstrated that noodle slurping is a part of his eating experience. 

Noodle Room Service

And veggie slurping. I believe this is called yu choy—it’s in a lot of soups. Noah would’ve gagged at this. 

Slurping Veggies

After lunch, naps were in order. Sleep has a funny way of disarming our emotional guard; not surprisingly, as he awoke slowly, we noticed his first signs of grief and fear. In some way, he was starting to process the change and loss he was experiencing. I pulled him up into bed and held him as he went limp and listless in my arms. Like a child becomes heavy as they slowly fall asleep, he became heavier and heavier in my arms as he withdrew into himself. I held him for a short time as Lindsey and I whisperingly questioned and discussed the best approach to comfort him. After a while, Lindsey took over the comforting—in time, he emerged again and slowly warmed back up.   

A Time to Grieve

The comforting led into some prolonged time of quiet closeness with Mama, after which Lindsey was able to capture some precious moments. 

Sweet Snuggle Time

After warming, Baba could evoke smiles, but always Mama was the approver. Before taking any major actions or making any major reactions, he would double-check for signals and cues. He seems to have her same perceptive social awareness.  

Funny, Right Mama!?

Once he opened back up, his smile took over the show. Oh goodness…what a sweet smile he has! We’ve noticed that he has controlling powers over all caretakers. He can bend them to his will for treats and special attention. Ladies, look out for this one! 

One Smile to Rule Them All

He also likes playing ball, and appears to throw left-handed like his Baba. Bonding bonus. 

Lefties Make Better Lovers

In the evening, we gave him a first bath, which he seemed to enjoy…until water went into his eyes. Then it was all over. It was his first cry, though it lasted only briefly. It’s probably not a bad way to have it. Nobody likes water in the eyes.  

By the end of the day, we were all totally wiped. We’d promised the kids at home that they would be first to meet him, so we all stayed awake here until the sun made its way around to a Michigan morning. The kids loved on him from afar; with big smiles and sweet voices, they greeted and welcomed him into the brotherhood of Burton.  

And so, we welcome this sweet boy into family. We’ve finally gotcha.