Lucky Girl

by Mei-Ling Hopgood

  Maureen remained upbeat when writing to Chris and Rollie:

  I have written so many letters to so many agencies and received so many contradicting replies that it is hard to know what to do. But all that I know is that little “May Ling” will be yours soon if you are patient and persevering. By the way do you belong to any religious sect? That does not influence me in any way about the baby but if I know that you believe in God I could at least ask you to pray. Love, Sr. Maureen

  October 21, 1973

  Dear Diane and Rollie,

  I received your long letter and was relieved that you understand so well that it will be a little slow-going. But if we are patient and at the same time do everything in our power—I know that you will have the little May Ling in your arms in the next few months … Father (Peter) Cheng [a priest at St. Mary’s] and I went to the law court to see if we could adopt the baby for you by proxy. (This is really very funny, you know—a priest and a nun in the adoption court—smile!) The lawyers said that they would do everything to help us (their wives had babies in the hospital) … Yes, May Ling lives in the hospital with us so I am within crying distance almost 24 hours a day. Our nurses are continuously hugging and loving her so she certainly will not be lacking. I feel myself so attached to her that I want to hurry the procedure along before she gets to recognize people. You asked what would happen to her if law prohibits her from going to the U.S. There are many Chinese couples unable to have children who would adopt her. But let’s be optimistic and believe she will be yours soon. You asked me if we needed money to cover the details and caring for baby. At this time everything is fine. Don’t worry about anything like that, ok?

  On November 3, 1973, Maureen sent an English translation of a Chinese form that mistakenly identified me as “Yang, Mei-Ling,” using my mother’s surname instead of that of my father. I would believe Yang was my biological surname until I received the first letter from my birth family in 1997.

  November 5, 1973

  Just after mailing you the letter yesterday … I received your letter saying you are personal friends with your Congressman [William Ford]. By all means go to him and ask him to help you. As I said before the procedure for adopting the baby for you in Taiwan is as simple as it can be. The problem is only on the American side. We need big shots in the American government to help us … Love, Maureen.

  A November 9 letter from John D. Barfield, consul in the U.S. embassy in Taiwan, to Maureen explained that the adopted alien child of U.S. citizens would not be given any preferential status to facilitate the child’s immigration, except in the case of an orphan.

  A November 14, 1973, letter to Sister Maureen from Father Francis McGrath in Taipei, who was helping Maureen, noted that a conversation with a district director of U.S. immigration services was “not cheering.” U.S. law provided for an expedited process only in the case of needy children, like those whose parents had died.

  I am sorry about this sister. At the best of times, with people living here who wish to adopt a baby, it is a painful and anxious business. From the start I felt that your case was somewhat unusual and that there would be problems. From the point of view of the parents who wish to have their baby girl adopted, it should be possible to find good Chinese parents here. It is not uncommon today for childless Chinese to adopt children … It’s too bad after all your trouble that the situation should prove to be as it seems to be … With kindest regards to all the Sisters. God Bless.

  Fifteen days later, word came to Chris and Rollie from William E. Zimmer, assistant director of travel control for the U.S. Department of Justice, that my visa application was being processed.

  Two days after Christmas Maureen wrote that an interview with the U.S. embassy in Taipei was scheduled on January 7, 1974. She said that my birth parents would like a picture of my new parents with me.

  Yesterday we [Father Cheng and I] went to the court and adopted the baby for you. It took 7 hours to do because everything in English had to be translated into Chinese and everything in Chinese had to be translated into English … Yang Mei Ling is legally your baby. We begged them to give us a statement that the child was abandoned but according to Taiwanese law, they cannot so we must hope for the best with the documents we have …

  The parents are really good people—just unable to support her. I have come to know and love them. They have gone to court with me at least 7 times on false alarms where we were told we needed some other document, etc. and they never said a word. Unfortunately a reporter was at the court yesterday and wrote a big article in the daily newspaper about the adoption. We begged him not to because the parents “lose face.”

  January 1974

  Mei Ling and I and one of our nurses left Taitung Jan. 6 at 8 a.m. by train to Hualian then flew to Taipei. We stayed overnight in a small room with one of our former nurses and Mei Ling was very good, only crying for her midnight and 4 a.m. feed. On Mon. we went to the American Embassy for our appointment and I was quite disappointed. The Vice Consul only asked me about three questions about Mei Ling’s health, family, etc.—simple questions that could have been answered by mail … Then she told us to go to the Chinese Embassy to get her passport but they would not give it to us because we lacked some documents. I asked the Vice Consul if it would be safe to buy Mei Ling’s plane ticket for late February and she said it is too uncertain so we must keep praying. It seems that every time we think we are almost there something new pops up.

  I really learned what it was like to be a mother while I was in Taipei, washing diapers, preparing bottles, walking her to sleep. But the more I do for her, the more I love her. She does not recognize me yet, but is very close to it, probably in another 2–3 weeks. She laughs out loud now and is able to almost turn over from her tummy. I am sorry that you are missing all of these “firsts” of hers. She weighs almost 14 pounds and her legs and arms are beautiful and strong due to the Enfamil milk, which is the best. She stands very straight on her legs when you hold her up by her hands. She has a temper too, especially when she is hungry and she drools saliva constantly so we always have a bib on her. We bought all new clothes and she looks beautiful in them. I bought several Chinese suits because I thought you would like them, but probably she will have outgrown them by the time you see her … Maureen.

  February 8, 1974

  Dear Diane and Rollie,

  It was wonderful to talk with you on the phone and I could not believe how clear your voices sounded … we are still working on the passport here. We cannot buy the air tickets until we have the American visa and Chinese passport so I doubt if she will be with you before early March. She has had a little cold the past few days but she’ll be all right. She has been rolling over from her stomach to her back. She rarely lays on her stomach. The Chinese always keep their babies on their back. She eats watery rice off our chopsticks and mashed carrots. We cannot buy baby food in this part of Taiwan. During Chinese New Year prices went up on rice, clothes, food, gas, etc. 100%. This was not a gradual up rise so it is rather a shock for people. Airfare, bus fare, etc. all doubled and we heard it will increase in Spring.

  Mei Ling does not have any teeth yet (it’s too early) but she puts everything she can get her hands on into her mouth, especially her fingers. When she is tired she rubs her eyes and cries which means she wants to sleep. She is especially beautiful when she wakes up from her naps—her cheeks are rosy and she smiles and smiles. She laughs out loud if you tickle her and her body is beautiful, strong and fat. She loves to be bathed. She drools so much that we have to keep powder under her double chin to prevent chafing. She talks baby talk. I have a habit of saying Ohhhh to her and she repeats. She is beginning to imitate. Unfortunately one of the nurses taught her how to stick her tongue out. (Smile).

  I loved your letter of Jan. 20 with your photos and so much information about yourselves. After I read that I felt I really knew you and love you. I think it is beautiful that you are going to keep Mei Ling’s name (pronounced May Ling). I’m so happy y
ou both love sports, and especially I’m happy you will be teaching Mei Ling to swim. Her dad comes now and then. At one point he told me that it is their custom for you to buy them a few clothes so I will buy them here when I go to Taipei. Speaking of money, I have talked it over with the other sisters and we feel that $2,000 U.S. will cover everything from beginning to end. Of course, it includes the airplane tickets to Michigan … I assure you the money doesn’t mean a thing to me or the other sisters—it is only to pay for her milk, clothes, court, travel expenses. It’s great your mom [Chris’s mother] works in a baby store. I’m sure she’s picking out clothes for Mei Ling. She is a very lucky baby because I know that your hearts already love her as much as we do, and will gradually love her even more. You cannot know how sad my heart will be the day I say goodbye to her at the airport. I only know that the sooner she is in your arms the better it is for all of us. Separation is painful … Love, Maureen

  On February 26, 1974, Congressman William D. Ford wrote to my parents to tell them his staff has asked officials in the Taiwan embassy in the United States help expedite the adoption process.

  March 2, 1974

  Dear Rollie and Chris,

  Today I received your check for $2,000 U.S. If we find it is too much I will send the extra back with Mei Ling. Much of it will be used for “favors” which is customary in Chinese society. For instance, we will have to give a little “gift” to the man in the court working towards her passport. Getting the Chinese passport has been much more difficult than expected. In Taipei they insist on the official, original documents that you sent giving Fr. Cheng and me the authority to adopt for you. But the court in Taitung refuses to release anything but photo static copies because all her papers have been bound and sealed and are not allowed to be tampered with or separated. These are the unexpected problems that we are still working on. But I know a man who knows how to buy these kind of favors and that seems to be the only way to get Mei Ling moving. I decided we should take a six month photograph in her red Chinese suit to send you in case there is a delay of a few more weeks. At least you will see how she has grown in the past 2 months … She has been sheltered a bit too much which I noticed when I take her out to a strange place she gets afraid so I am trying to make a real effort to let her experience strange situations because I’m afraid she will find the travel to America too strange and cry, etc. I can’t tell you what she means to me. I have never taken care of a baby for 6 months and I just know that I love her so much.

  Can you believe that we have almost completed all this? God is good and everyone here has been praying that she would soon be yours. Many of the people working in adoptions here cannot believe that we succeeded so soon (smile). You have been waiting a long time—she will be everything that you are longing for and more. May she complete your marriage. All my love, Maureen

  P.S. I kiss Mei Ling at least 100 time a day so some are from you!

  March 14, 1974

  This letter does not bring much news but I know that you like to hear as often as possible how your princess daughter is progressing. She continues to say “baba” and still no sign of teeth but wears a constant smile and is outgrowing her clothes rapidly. She has quite a tummy … She is beginning to recognize people. There is one man who has a beard and when she was younger he used to rub her smooth skin against his rough beard and although he was teasing she didn’t like it. Now if he comes within 10 feet of her, she cries … No, Mei Ling is not baptized. We would only baptize her if you were both Catholic. But of course my big desire will always be that she will sometime find God and be baptized. That is my prayer for her. Of course, I will pray for her safe trip, too … Diane, you sound so excited that you are having difficulty sleeping. It makes me so happy to hear how much you love her already and I read and re-read your letter about her red, white, and blue room. The sisters and nurses have been following every detail because she is so much a part of all of us. It makes us so happy to hear how you have prepared for her—even her Easter dress! … Tell me every detail when she arrives with you and my last request will be that you telegram me when you have her in your arms so I can feel at peace … I feel so close to both of you—we are friends in every sense of the word. (P.S. You can call me Maureen. It’s more friendly than S.M.—Sister Maureen. Mei Ling is 17 pounds, 12 oz.)

  March 25, 1974

  Dear Rollie and Chris:

  Today I received her passport from the Taiwan government. So I immediately phoned long distance to Amer. Embassy in Taipei for an appointment … Her father came to visit her today—she wouldn’t go to him at first but then she let him hold her. She is getting to know us and she is afraid of very dark skinned Chinese people (so you two are safe!) I still think it would help Mei Ling a lot to adjust to you if you wear a white blouse or shirt when you pick her up at the airport. Once you get her home and she is used to you (after about 1 hour) it won’t matter what you wear. She is so lovable—we just want to make her adjustment as natural as possible. You must be so excited!

  On April 7, 1974, all the nurses and my birth family gathered to take pictures and say goodbye before our train left Taitung at 8 a.m. More nuns and a priest met us in the city of Hualian and drove us on the back of their motorcycles to the convent for dinner before we headed to the Hualian airport. The roar of the airplanes scared me, Maureen recalled. I never cried but my eyes were as big as saucers. We arrived in Taipei that night, and Maureen searched for a hotel. She found a cheap little place downtown, and we settled into our tiny room. She was exhausted and didn’t realize the kind of hotel she had chosen—until she saw all the American GIs and their “girlfriends.”

  Oh my, she thought. We must be such a sight! A young American nun in her veil with a Chinese baby in arms wandering the halls of this seedy place …

  The next day, someone broke into the room and stole her passport, a couple thousand Taiwan dollars, and several pictures. The thief, a boy, returned soon after and gave back the passport, apologizing profusely, fearing that he might be punished for swiping a foreigner’s documents. Meanwhile, the bureaucratic nightmare continued. Many of my American papers identified me improperly as Yang Mei-Ling and all of my Chinese documents referred to me as Wang Mei-Ling. There also was a two-hour wait for the required physical exam. Once all that was done, officials at the U.S. embassy told Maureen that I was missing a document, but then they generously overlooked the omission.

  During those final nights, Maureen wrote instructions to my parents, describing my schedule in detail to help make the transition easier.

  “She will probably take a while to settle down. It is unfortunate that she did not get to America 1 month ago because now she recognizes all of us. She will not go to strangers. She cries—especially if men try to hold her (that will change in a few years—smile). She probably won’t like Rollie’s mustache but she will get used to it.”

  CHRIS AND ROLLIE arrived in San Francisco the second week of April, all prepared to receive me the next morning. Finally! They spent the night in the airport Holiday Inn, barely able to sleep. They were just leaving the hotel when the phone rang. It was Maureen.

  “Japan Airlines has gone on strike,” she told them. More than seven million workers had called a general strike in Japan. They boycotted airlines, railroads, subways, buses, taxis, and shipping lines. They left their posts in schools, post offices, telegraph and government offices. The Japanese mint stopped printing money and the rangers in national forests refused to take their posts. They wanted a pay hike of 30 percent to match the skyrocketing inflation caused by oil prices. Tokyo’s banks and office buildings turned into sleeping quarters because employees had no way to get home. Japan Airlines had to cancel sixteen of its twenty international flights.

  How ironic, my parents thought glumly. The largest strike in Japan’s history had stranded this union president’s new baby. Perhaps Rollie’s sympathies for the movement gave them the patience to get through this last hump. Chris and Rollie waited by the phone and watched the t
elevision, calling the airlines constantly.

  The wait was torturous for Maureen, too. Most nuns never experience motherhood like she had. She had grown to believe she could understand my baby babble and that I, in a sense, could understand her. She was the only parent I knew. Maureen always believed that even though my birth mother had said that the adoption was the decision of both parents, Ma had not wanted to give me up. There was something in her eyes and her manner, the undeniable posture of yearning and loss. Maureen understood that feeling more and more.

  Two days later, Japanese workers called off the strike when their government agreed to pay raises. Flights began to normalize. That night Maureen suffered a fit of anxiety and could not stop crying. In the morning, she and some other nuns took me to the airport, dressed in all the clothing that I owned. Maureen was beside herself as she handed me to the airline hostess who would fly with me overseas, but I was serene and smiley.

  “It was almost as if she knew she was going,” Maureen later wrote to my American parents. “As I watched the plane go off, all I could think of was ‘my baby’ was going to be in a normal family situation where she could have a mother’s and father’s love.”

  Maureen sobbed the entire bus ride back to Taitung.

  TWO DAYS BEFORE Rollie’s thirty-fifth birthday, on April 13, 1974, I arrived in the United States. I was almost eight months old. The doors of immigration opened and a woman appeared, holding a big fat bundle with a mop of wavy black hair. I was gurgling, smiling, swaddled in about fifteen layers of clothing, topped off with a red silk jacket. Chris snapped a picture of me with the Japan Airlines employee, who then disappeared into the bowels of the airport. Then we were three.

  Chris had brought only one Kleenex in her purse. How much crying could she really do? But she wept uncontrollably and had to use her sleeve to dry her face. Rollie, unaccustomed to holding a baby, awkwardly took me into his arms, but I didn’t cry. I just examined them curiously. They took me back to their hotel room and gave me a bath and dressed me in a flowery little dress that Rollie had chosen. I grunted and he ran to the side of my hotel crib to see what was the matter. Chris warned him not to spoil me. I crawled all over the bed and all over them. I whimpered, and they fed me. I pooped and they changed me.