We returned to the city Matteo was born in and visited his foster family and today was by far the hardest thing we’ve done this whole trip. My heart may never be the same.
The trip was almost canceled when we woke up to a dusting of snow. Apparently it very, very rarely snows in Hefei, which I believe after seeing a couple of palm trees in a city park. We left around 9:00 a.m. for what was supposed to be a three-hour trip, but stretched to four after a 20-car pileup forced us off the highway and down some countryside roads that were so bumpy we were gripping Matteo to keep him from flying off the seat. (No one uses car seats in China.) I’ve been on smoother dirt roads in Northern Minnesota than we what we were on. I was so happy when we finally got back on the highway.
It was after 1:00 p.m. when we made it to Fuyang, where we met some officials from the orphanage at a restaurant downtown. The officials included the two orphanage directors, the woman in charge of the foster families and one of the women who had brought Matteo to Hefei. We had our own dining room and sat around a large round table. A gigantic lazy susan sat in the middle of the table and we ate family-style. It felt like every time I looked up, the waitress was placing yet another platter or bowl of food down. Fuyang is apparently known for its cuisine and we got to sample many different local dishes. I was relieved to see Matteo eat and drink since his appetite was back down again this morning. Throughout lunch I peppered the folks from the orphanage with questions, which our guide translated. In hindsight, I’m glad I asked so many questions, because once we met the foster family, I wasn’t in the right state of mind to ask all the questions I wanted to even though Chris and I had written them down ahead of time.
On our way to visit Matteo’s foster family, we stopped at his “finding spot”. Since placing a child for adoption is not legal in China, if parents cannot care for their child, they resort to abandonment. Visiting a finding spot is one more piece of a child’s history and I wanted to stand in the spot where my son was found. I was surprised it was on a busy street with a police station not far away and in front of a building guard station. Why was that spot chosen? How was whoever left him not seen on such a busy street? Despite there being a police report from when he was found, we won’t be given that report. When I got back in the car, I kissed my son. Although so many questions about his beginnings remain, what I do know is that he was found, he is now my son and I’m forever thankful.
We continued on through downtown Fuyang following the orphanage director’s car and into a more residential section of the city. We passed apartment block after apartment block and kept driving until the buildings stopped and we were driving past a field. We drove up onto a hill that was stretched out in a ring dividing the blocks of apartment buildings from a wooded area. Peeking through the trees I could see what looked like one-story and one-and-half-story brick and cinder block buildings. We drove along the ridge, took a sharp left down the other side of the ridge and into what our guide called the “countryside” of Fuyang. Although we could still see the high-rise apartment buildings, we were truly in a different part of the city.
We parked in front of a low-slung building, which used to be the orphanage until about a year ago. It was so tiny compared with the big new building they constructed on the other side of the city.
Our arrival was noticed immediately and Matteo’s foster family rushed to our car. Chris thought Matteo’s foster father wanted to shake his hand, but instead plucked Matteo out of Chris’s arms before he realized what had happened. We followed them down a muddy road to the home where Matteo had lived from age six months until as recently as Sunday.
Visiting the family confirmed some observations we’ve made about Matteo, but we learned some new things. His mom says he’s reserved and shy, which matches the mellow guy we’ve gotten to know, but also that he loves to dance! I asked if Matteo had ever been read a book, which sounds like a crazy question, but we noticed that he doesn’t know how to open one. He kept trying to turn the pages with one hand, while the other hand held the book shut. His foster mother said that he’s looked at pictures before, but no, has never read a book. The last of Matteo’s foster siblings (out of five) was there and the nearly two-year-old was bundled up in so much clothing you would wonder how the child can walk. But the house wasn’t heated so that much clothing is necessary. And that got Chris and I to theorizing that perhaps Matteo thrashes around so much in his sleep because nothing is inhibiting his movement anymore. When he’s not thrashing, he’ll often sleep spread eagle, which might have been one of the few sleeping positions he could manage bundled up like that.
Chris and I struggled with whether going back was the right idea. Ultimately we decided that because we’re here, we can’t pass up the opportunity to meet Matteo’s foster parents and have pictures and stories to share with Matteo someday. And with the information I gathered today, I hope I can track down the adoptive families of Matteo’s four foster siblings and one of his friends who entered the orphanage at the same time he did, went to the healing home with him for surgery and lived in a nearby foster family. However, in the short-term, we feel we’ve done more harm than good in that we delayed the grieving process for both Matteo and his foster parents.
What came out of the visit for us is that we confirmed that he was truly loved and well taken care of by his foster family. They were very poor and lived in a house with no heat (except for built-in space heaters attached to the walls) and no toilet, but he was happy there. He played outside a lot and had foster parents (and their two grown children) doting on him. Chris and I were in an awkward situation of being in someone else’s home, having to ask people who know our son better than we do how to care for him and his likes and dislikes and knowing that they selflessly cared for him like their own so that we (and not them) could eventually be his parents. As I watched his foster mother clutch him and cry while she tried to soak up every last moment with Matteo, who she’ll most likely never see again, I broke down crying too. I wanted more time and more privacy with his foster family, away from the orphanage officials and what felt like half the neighborhood, but the orphanage people were calling the shots and it was time to go according to them. We felt guilty asking for our son back and wanted to let them hand him back to us when they were ready, but one of the directors intervened. We climbed back in the car with Matteo and his foster mother reached back in and pulled him back out for one last hug. I cried even more as Matteo cried as hard has he’s ever cried and I looked out the window and saw his foster mother weeping and being comforted by his family. I regret not having more time with them and not being able to thank them in a way that I can convey how thankful I am for them. If I had known how short and chaotic our visit was going to be, I would have had our guide translate a letter ahead of time for me to give to them in person. At a minimum, I wanted to thank them for loving and caring for Matteo and promising we’ll do the same.
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