The Business

I don't usually write here about how fantastic my children are, because, while it's a topic of endless fascination to me, I'm sure it interests no one else. Nonetheless, I'm going to put in a quick Jude update here to mention that the way he is being woven into the fabric of our family can only be described as amazing. He is a great little kid, and it seems as if he's always been here. He's also adjusting really well. I took him for an evaluation to see if he'd qualify for speech therapy under Early Intervention, and he didn't; in spite of the fact that the supervising speech-language pathologist has other adopted Chinese children his age in her practice, it turned out that Jude's acquired language, despite the fact that he was nonverbal in Mandarin and English three months ago, was too good. It is pretty adorable to see him point to various things and, when I hand them to him, to hear him cheerily reply "Ta-tee [thank you], Mama!" before toddling off, or when he puts on his little backpack which he's crammed full of doo-dads, calling "'Mon, Ree-ree," to his brother (whose name sounds nothing like Ree-ree) and beckoning with extravagant arm gestures before setting off on some adventure. As a friend of mine put it, "Jude is the business."

Sehnsucht for Tots

I know something about longing, especially about longing for a past that may have never been what I now imagine it to be; I know reasonably well the dull ache for people and places gone forever, even when that longing is ontologically misplaced. I know all this not only from my own long and neurotic experience, but also from my schooling in the soundtrack of German romanticism, in which the keenest longing -- Sehnsucht -- is a guiding ethos.

My new son wakes up in the middle of the night and cries for hours and will not be consoled. My husband suggested that he, too, knows Sehnsucht. The present is better than the often-idealized past, but it's hard to explain that to a post-institutionalized, pre-verbal toddler in culture shock.

So this goes out to Jude; music by Schubert, text by Goethe:

Over all the hilltops

is calm.

In all the treetops

you feel

hardly a breath of air.

The little birds fall silent in the woods.

Just wait: soon

you too will rest.

Before, During, and After the Airport

I just want to note briefly that Jude is a very, very cool little kid.

And I want to thank some people who helped us in getting him here, especially the wonderful and brilliant Otepoti, who, with my husband, brought him home.

But there are also some local friends (a term that until recently I thought was an oxymoron) who helped in all kinds of ways, including

- Laura, who drove eight hours round-trip to pick them up at Newark Airport.
- Sara, who with her construction-worker husband brought over and assembled a crib for him.
- Father W., who assured me that God privileges adoption in a special way.
- Maria, who gave me a box of lemon pastilles from Sicily on a bad day.

And the Chinese-born Princeton professor who sat next to my husband on the flight going over, and emailed him later to say:

I was delighted to hear from you and to receive pictures of your new son.
As I told you on the flight, I was deeply moved by your unselfish love! What a lucky boy with a wonderful family.
Jude looks very healthy, smart and handsome.
Thank you very much for what you did to Jude and to this world!

Thank you so much, friends -- and especially you who have been praying -- for what you, too, did to Jude and to this world.

Re-entry

A quick one: Jude is doing very well. He's amazingly attached and happy, and is a delightful little boy. I'm worried about his medical condition, though, and would appreciate your prayers on his behalf. He is going to have to go to at least one and possibly more specialists at a hospital in another city.

Between all of this and some freelance translating/editing jobs I'm doing on deadline, blogging is going to be light for the next few weeks.

Thank you all for your prayers.