July 25, 2014
Adopting an abandoned Chinese baby: a family’s experience
By Patti Waldmeir
In 2010, Patti Waldmeir found a seriously ill newborn in a Shanghai alley. Since then the story has turned from communist tragedy to Christian fairy tale:
A friend and I found her one night, only steps from one of Shanghai’s top hotels. She was lying on top of two plastic bags that bulged with new baby clothes, tins of infant formula, packs of newborn nappies/diapers and scrubbed-clean baby bottles: the only love note a mother could dare to leave, for a child she would never know.
The fact that her parents chose to leave her at a place frequented by foreigners may mean they wanted her to end up living overseas. Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe they wanted a healthy baby, if they were only going to have one child. (China has since slightly relaxed its one-child policy but babies are still being abandoned.) Bella has a number of disabilities, including a congenital heart defect, blindness in both eyes from cataracts and a partially webbed foot. Perhaps her parents simply couldn’t cope.
In lots of ways, theirs was an entirely rational decision: in China, many families have only minimal health insurance, and the cost of all the surgery Baby Donuts needed (along with the bribes paid to doctors) could have bankrupted even a family of substantial means. Abandoning her meant that she would become a ward of the state, which would at least pay to keep her alive. China says it has about 700,000 “orphans” (meaning children whose parents can’t care for them). About 100,000 live in state institutions but most of the rest collect a government subsidy.
Baby Donuts (aka Bella), shortly after she was found
But the Stricklands are clear about why they did it: among other things, because God wanted them to. “God put adoption in our hearts,” LaKasha says. “God stirred our hearts and we started searching.” And they didn’t just make a decision, they mounted a crusade. It can cost upwards of $30,000 to adopt a special needs child from China, including paperwork, translations and travel costs. Raising such a child, even in the promised land of Obamacare, will doubtless cost considerably more (in spite of Jeremy’s excellent medical insurance as an ex-serviceman).
Undeterred, the Stricklands launched a “Bring Baby Bella to America” campaign in October 2012, enlisting family, friends, members of their church and even the Bible to fundraise. They set up a tent in the parking lot of the local Walmart to sell T-shirts emblazoned with these words from James 1:27: “Pure and lasting religion in the sight of God our Father is to care for orphans in their troubles.”
They sold 260 plates of “chicken cheesy spaghetti” at a church lunch, raising $2,500. They even stood at traffic lights with a bucket and a poster of Bella, collecting dollar bill.
It can cost $30,000 to adopt a special needs child from China. The couple had just $100 of savings
LaKasha says she was shocked when Jeremy came up with the idea of panhandling to raise money for Bella. But their experience at the traffic lights yielded both cash and encouragement, as she shares on her blog “Adoption from God’s Pocket”. “It was so hard at first, feeling silly and prideful,” she writes. “But after a little wait a few cars started pulling in and asking about her and putting dollars in our bucket. We got to share about her and about God’s love and plan for her life,” she says, adding: “This was ministry!! He has given us a way to talk to strangers about Him and what He has done and will continue to do. There’s nothing easier to talk about than a child in need.”
And then there was the miracle of the $3,110 bank deposit: the Stricklands have never figured out exactly where it came from, but they do know that $3,110 was exactly what they needed to pay for the “home study” by social workers, which is a prerequisite of any adoption from China, among agency fees. And there was the friend who borrowed $4,000 to help them, and the bank employee who cleared the way, unexpectedly, for the Stricklands to refinance their home.
While they raised money, Bella was still living at the Shanghai orphanage under the name Jiang Xinqian. The Strickland s decided that her American name was to be Bella KaLare (pronounced “Claire”). “I talked to God a lot that day about if we were making the right choice,” LaKasha writes on her blog. “He showed me that her name meant beauty and clarity and I knew he was happy with it: beauty with her imperfections, and clarity within her mind without delays.” Later on the Stricklands added “Xin” to honour her Chinese roots.
Bella became a member of the family long before she got to Louisiana. On her second birthday (which she spent in the orphanage), the Stricklands posed for a family portrait, each clutching a donut, to symbolise their bond with the baby. Their Christmas photo that year shows LaKasha, Jeremy, their son Peyton and a framed portrait of Bella. LaKasha even dyed her hair black before they flew to Shanghai, so that Bella would not be too shocked at her appearance (in China nearly everyone’s hair is jet black, including septuagenarians).
Patti Waldmeir
Shanghai correspondent
Financial Times