Georgia

It's impossible to plan to bring another child into our family without seriously considering the effect it will have on Georgia. I told a wise friend the other day that I ask Georgia daily how she feels about the adoption, going to China and having a younger sibling. (Her answer is always the same: "good.") The wise friend said, maybe you shouldn't ask her so often; she might think there's something she's supposed to be feeling. Well said. So I don't ask her every day. But I do check from time-to-time.

Of course, I've been through the mental gymnastics of wondering whether we are doing the right thing for her. And I know we are. I know a lot of only children. Most of them say their childhoods were good, that they loved their parents and that they aren't "spoiled." But I think if they are honest, most of them would say that they would have preferred having a brother or sister.

A few years ago, I absent-mindedly said to my Mom, "I always wanted a sister." (First-time readers: I have an older sister with Downs Syndrome.) Somewhat indignantly, my Mom said, "you DO have a sister." Of course I do. I adore my sister. The love I have for my sister is complicated. It's fierce and compassionate and ordinary all at the same time. My comment wasn't meant as a slight. I meant that I always wanted a sister who would tell me not to wear sweaters with Christmas trees and bells on them, who would laugh with me at inappropriate times during weddings, and who would go shopping with me. That kind of sister. That said, I know sisters who don't like each other that much, who are competitive beyond belief, or who are separated by distance or time or events.

But adoption is a strange thing because the parents can choose the gender of their child. We considered adopting a boy. My husband is the last male on his side of the family, and I failed to produce a fair-haired heir. And it would have been nice to have "one of each." But we felt that the odds that Georgia would remain close to a sibling during her life might increase if her sibling was the same gender. We might be wrong, but we're doing our best in this rather unusual process.

When we concluded that we would be travelling to China to bring home a child, I instantly recalled a trip my sister-in-law took there about fifteen years ago. She visited a rural village in which the residents touched her hair because they had never seen blond hair before. Before we knew what part of China we would visit, I imagined enduring this, in addition to the rabies shots I would have to get prior to the trip. I couldn't imagine taking Georgia to any place requiring rabies shots in advance. However, Georgia and I don't like being separated for more than two or three days; the trip will last at least a couple of weeks.

When we were told we will travel to Shenzhen and that rabies shots aren't given to people travelling to large cities like this, I knew Georgia would come along. She won't have to endure the anxiety of being separated from us for such a long time, only to have to share us with a total stranger when we come home. Shenzhen has parks, carnivals and zoos. My Mom is coming with us for moral support and to watch Georgia when we are otherwise occupied. She will meet Song Song when we do, get to know her when we do, and watch the whole process unfold. And my Mom isn't going as a babysitter. She's my Mom and I love her. She's a good travelling companion, too. Oh, and a good wine drinking buddy.