Stories from the Road: Visiting a Chinese Orphanage

In our book, we write about choosing travel destinations built about personal history. Some families research their ancestors’ countries of origin; others travel to places of personal significance–maybe a country or site of a battle their grandfather or great-great grandfather fought or died. This is one of our family’s moments, written the day after our visit to Lucy’s orphanage in 2018. Travel can be truly healing. 

This is the real reason we came to China: to bring Lucy back to the place she spent the first three years of life. Seven years ago, we met our daughter, Lucy, in the Social Welfare Office of Guangzhou, not in the Maoming Orphanage five hours away. On this return trip, we hoped that we could volunteer at the orphanage: do dishes, play with kids, mop floors – whatever was helpful. But the Chinese government doesn’t want any of that. The best we could get was a $300 half-day permit, given by the provincial capital in Guangzhou. And the best timing for our visit would be the tail end of our month-long stay in the country.

The facts: Lucy was born with a large hole in her heart. Lucy was left at the entrance to a large park in Maoming, China when she was one month old. Lucy spent three years in the Maoming Orphanage. Lucy still had a large hole in her heart when she visited a Chinese cardiologist in February 2010. Lucy was matched with our family and came to Colorado in early June 2010. Lucy’s hole had closed spontaneously by the time we visited Denver Children’s Hospital in late June 2010. “A medical miracle,” the pediatric cardiologist pronounced.

There’s a hurt in Lucy that I can never totally understand but it comes out, sometimes, as anger that she was thrown away, or discarded because she was born a girl. It’s so tricky to explain the nuances of China’s one-child policy to a child; to explain that Chinese parents had one shot to have a traditional heir; that her heart condition at birth may have forced her birth parents’ hand in finding the best medical care for their infant girl, even if that care could only come from an orphanage.

I was anxious about our visit to Maoming Orphanage. We all were. What if they were cold and formal? Or what if they didn’t remember much about Lucy? What if the conditions of the orphanage were depressing and hard for all our kids to see? But instead, when the gates opened for us at 9:30 am on October 26th, they rushed forward for hugs and had a “Welcome Xin Feng” electronic banner flashing across a screen. We stayed through lunchtime, visiting her old playroom and bedroom and touring the facility. We clung to the stories of Lucy as a baby and toddler, soaking up all the details. They wanted to know how her heart was now and happily heard the tale. They made Lucy a heart ornament with her embroidered Chinese name to hang in her room. Lucy said that the visit made her feel “very popular” and we made lifelong connections with these incredible, loving caregivers.

When we walked out the orphanage gates, two of her biggest fans followed us for final hugs. They were tearful and stood watching us leave; stood until we got to the end of the block, watching and waving. What must these women feel after loving so many children, finding

them homes, and then wondering how they are faring overseas?  I am so glad that we could answer some of their questions too.

From the orphanage, we walked to the park nearby, where Lucy was “found” ten years ago, wrapped in a white cloth, with a birthdate written on a torn edge of a red envelope. Many adoptees write about the power of revisiting their “finding place” and I thought this might be another emotionally charged moment. Instead, Lucy triumphantly posed for a photo in her spot.

After the intensity of the orphanage, we explored the coast for two nights and then returned to Maoming for just 18 hours.  On a quick trip to the park, we randomly crossed paths with the orphanage director who ran up to us and hugged Lucy some more. We all felt a bit like locals, a bit like we’d found a place where we were loved, like this was our place too.  

The facts of her early years, when stated as a stark list, sound sad. But being there to feel the love of Lucy’s caregivers, the warmth of the Chinese people toward her – wherever we traveled – and the magnificence of this country, turned a sad set of facts into triumph, acceptance and a source of pride. The holes were filled with love. I wonder if this month in China rewrote a story, solved some unanswered questions, and helped that heart heal just a little bit more. By naming that place in the park her “finding” spot, it implies that she was lost. My Lucy has never been lost in her life. These women will now always be part of her finding her way in this world – of finding love, courage and connections.