Gotcha Day

February 16, 2003

Mary and her neice Laura had been the first of our group to arrive in Nanchang. They had flown in from Hong Kong. The babies arrived before the rest of us. Mary took photos of the babies as they arrived.

After a long flight from Beijing and a trip into Nanchang, we arrived at the hotel at 6:33 pm.

We waited to check-in. The babies has been whisked away to a conference room somewhere.

We got our room assignments, went to our rooms, gathered our cameras, and took the elevator to the floor where the babies were.

We heard them all. Crying, noisy. We walked into the room. I looked around, trying to find a child that looked like Rachel.

I took pictures, but I had no clue which baby was Rachel. After what seemed to be an eternity, the babies’ names and parents’ names were called out. We were last. I finally figured out this baby was Rachel.

Since I held Sarah first, I thought John should get the chance to be the first one to hold Rachel. She stared at him. He stared at her.

Then it was my turn. I was checking Rachel out, to make sure she was all in one piece, when I made a fatal mistake. I bounced Rachel and patted her bottom. She let out a blood-curdling scream and cried. I bounced and patted more. More screaming.

The orphanage workers took her away from me, because I obviously didn’t know what I was doing. (Tell that to my then 4-year-old at home!) They gave her back to John, and shoved a bunch of small food items in her mouth that looked oddly like Cracker Jacks. They handed John the bag and gestured that he should keep putting these Cracker Jacks things in her mouth. As she screamed.

Score one for John — he knew not to put food in a crying, screaming baby’s mouth.

I found out Rachel had come straight from her foster home, but that was about all I was told, other than she liked sweets. It was pure chaos, and the babies all were turning beet red from overheating. Our facilitator finally got all of us out of the room and back to our own rooms.

Once we were in the room, we found out why Rachel was screaming. She had a horrific case of diaper rash, and a cigarette burn. The ash from the cigarrette was still in her diaper. Some idiot had been smoking when putting her in a diaper.

That’s when Rachel found out what a Mama does. And I kept telling her what a Mama does for the next year, until she finally believed me.