A Chinese-American Story of Love (Part IX, section 1 of 2)

By Douglas Wagganer

With our new daughter now at home, Jane and I began to settle into our daily lives. I took off from work the first week of December, so I could recover from all the world wind travels we had made over the last half of November. Jane would remain at home on maternity leave until early February. The bonding process had started, but was developing slowly. We each learned to act as new family members and each was adjusting differently to the changes that now encompassed all of us. The three of our lives were heading in a new direction, and all were on an unfamiliar path from where our past lives had been before. Jane was now a brand new mother, I was learning to be a new father, and Maribeth she had a lot of new everything's to experience and explore.

I wish I could say everything went perfect upon our return to St. Louis, but unfortunately that was not to be the case. Maribeth developed a bad cold, and Jane had all the tensions of the past three weeks, along with some serious jet lag finally catch up with her. Both did recover after a few visits to the Doctor's Office, a little medicine and a lot of needed rest. Both mother and daughter were again smiling by Christmas Day.

In fact the Christmas Season found us going to several Christmas Parties. I ultimately dressed up in my red Santa suit for four or five different social functions. I was a hit with most of the kids, but Maribeth did not seem to like the idea of her daddy being the "Jolly Old Elf", who held other children and handed out gifts. She was more interested in just being held, hugged and cuddled by anyone who wanted to entertain her. She also liked eating or nibbling on anything that she could fit into her mouth. Far from that distant Orphanage in China, this little girl was now like a little flower. She was opening up to all and allowing everyone to see the beauty contained in her precious little soul.

On December 31, 2001, Jane and I got to witness one of Maribeth's "Firsts". It was on that cold last day of the year my daughter began walking around the house on her own. She was wobbly at the start, but by that evening she was cruising around as if on a mission. In a little over a month and a half we had watched her continual progress from a helpless 14-month old underdeveloped infant who could not even sit up on her own, to an independent moving toddler who was now trying to get into almost everything. It was a proud moment in my life and a happy way to end the year.

During January and the first few weeks of February, colds, the winter flu, and a respiratory virus plagued both Maribeth and me. She never stopped or seemed to slow down for very long. Baby Tylenol would perk her right back up, and she enjoyed the breathing treatments for the respiratory virus. My guess it was because we would hold her in our laps and whisper softly in her ears.