We've come a long way, baby!

Today is the one-year anniversary of the day we received Jia. It has been quite the journey.

On that unforgettable day last year, we crowded into a hot meeting room in a hotel in Wuhan, China along with nearly 40 other families. Our post about it is here. It was chaotic to say the least. We heard Jia, over all the other screaming children, before we even saw her. Her trauma was palpable. Indeed, every time I try to watch the video of the moment we received her, I have to turn it off. Her sheer terror breaks my heart.

We foolishly hadn't been too worried about attachment. I knew it would take a little time, but she was not even a year old. Still a baby, we thought. Yet, what we faced was an intensely grieving, malnourished, hysterical wanna-be toddler. She clung to Joe immediately, for days, out of fear. He had to constantly hold her, most of the time while standing up. If he tried to even sit down with her she would dissolve into tears instantly. She wanted nothing to do with me the entire time we were in China.

We hoped that things would improve once we returned home. It didn't go as planned. On our flight home, Jia had an allergic reaction, swelled up, turned purple and broke out in hives that covered her body. At that point, we just wanted her to survive the flight. We made an emergency landing and spent Jia's first day in the US at a hospital.

I had my own share of medical issues as well. I contracted whooping cough in China and it appeared the day we returned. I lost my voice, and repeatedly coughed to the point of vomiting and nearly losing consciousness. The violent coughing broke my ribs. I often could not pick up Jia without extreme pain. There was no sleep due to my illness, and Jia's sleep patterns caused her to awaken crying nearly every hour. This lasted for about six months. Thankfully Jia was vaccinated against whooping cough. But Joe went to work after a week home and there we were, the two of us, supposedly bonding.

I knew that we had our work cut out for us. I got into research mode, and quickly read all I could about attachment, contacted resources and tried to learn as much as possible. Then we tried to implement the ideas. They were often not successful. Swimming was widely promoted as fostering attachment as it forces the child to cling to the parent. We excitedly planned a weekend at a quiet pool. We arrived in our suits and waded in. This was the moment! She would let me hold her! Well, this kid thought she could swim on her own. She became increasingly frustrated by my efforts to keep her afloat to prevent drowning. We decided that this attachment tool was not effective for us, and plodded along, hoping the next one would work.

Other factors came into play. For example, I never dreamed that I could have issues attaching to her. I had wanted her so much. For 30 years. I was three when my parents adopted my sister and I knew then, without a doubt, that I wanted to create my family the same way.

We knew that were were so lucky to have Jia. She was sweet, smart, beautiful and funny - everything we wanted in a kid and more. But it was hard to attach to a kid who kept pushing away over and over again. To put your heart out there and have it trampled on repeatedly. We weren't nearly the parents we thought we would be. But we persisted nonetheless.

Over the months, the attachment efforts, along with time, effected change in all of us. I finally got to report, "She let me wear her in the carrier!" "I got to look at her face when I rocked her!" "She let me hug her without pushing away and screaming!" Then, the better stuff, "She kissed me - unsolicited!" "She hugged me - on her own!"

We also found great joy in all that she was learning. Every time we'd teach her something new, she'd shout, "MORE!" She loved being a little sponge. Her exuberance for life was contagious.

And she helped us through some other tough times. In the past few months, Joe's mom died unexpectedly. Joe's brother died tragically. A family friend died suddenly. One of my clients, for whom I worked hard to have released from prison, died in a car accident the day she gained her freedom. Through all this, Jia was a constant force reminding us that life barrels on.

We work on attachment every day. It is a slow journey, but we are making it. She often requests to hold our hands, and likes to be close to us. The other evening, during our nightly cuddle time, out of the blue, Jia said, "Baba happy. Mama happy. Jia happy." We have come a long way.