After a lifetime of searching, two adopted Chinese find their birth parents

19 March 2019

Growing up in the Netherlands, Linde Welberg knew she had the most loving parents a child could ask for. Yet she had always felt something was missing from her life.

Long before her father and mother told her she was adopted, she instinctively knew it.

“I felt a part of me was missing,” she says.

On the other side of the Atlantic, in the US city of Philadelphia, Lianna Fogg was going through similar turmoil. “I shared the same dream of every adoptee,” says Fogg. “Not just to find my birth parents, but to be accepted by them.”

The two young women have never met, but share a common experience. Put up for adoption as a consequence of China’s now-abandoned one-child policy, both have lived lives far removed from the circumstances of their birth.

Each has felt pangs of separation and loss, torn between two worlds, despite being raised in loving homes.

Both have bridged the divide between them and their lost families through dogged determination and the power of social media. Last year, the two young women visited China for emotional reunions and a sense of closure.

In 2001, Wim and Mieke Welberg traveled to Gutian county in southern China’s Fujian province, to adopt a one-year-old girl by the name of Lin Shupin.

The Welbergs named her Linde after the linden tree, known in the Netherlands for its resilience. They returned to China in 2004 to adopt a three-year-old boy from Jilin province, whom they named Tim.

As she got older, Welberg began to have frequent emotional outbursts. “She drew pictures [of her biological parents] with tears on their cheeks. When she combed her long hair, she said her biological mother must have had long hair too,” Mieke Welberg says.

MAR

19

2019

TRANSLATING CHINA

SOCIETY

After a lifetime of searching, two adopted Chinese find their birth parents

Photo: Zou Biyu

by

Vivian Chiu

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Growing up in the Netherlands, Linde Welberg knew she had the most loving parents a child could ask for. Yet she had always felt something was missing from her life.

Long before her father and mother told her she was adopted, she instinctively knew it.

“I felt a part of me was missing,” she says.

On the other side of the Atlantic, in the US city of Philadelphia, Lianna Fogg was going through similar turmoil. “I shared the same dream of every adoptee,” says Fogg. “Not just to find my birth parents, but to be accepted by them.”

I shared the same dream of every adoptee. Not just to find my birth parents, but to be accepted by them.

- Lianna Fogg

SHARE

The two young women have never met, but share a common experience. Put up for adoption as a consequence of China’s now-abandoned one-child policy, both have lived lives far removed from the circumstances of their birth.

Each has felt pangs of separation and loss, torn between two worlds, despite being raised in loving homes.

Both have bridged the divide between them and their lost families through dogged determination and the power of social media. Last year, the two young women visited China for emotional reunions and a sense of closure.

The Welberg family – Wim, Tim, Linde, and Mieke – in Hong Kong in 2018.

The Welberg family – Wim, Tim, Linde, and Mieke – in Hong Kong in 2018. Photo: Jonathan Wong

In 2001, Wim and Mieke Welberg traveled to Gutian county in southern China’s Fujian province, to adopt a one-year-old girl by the name of Lin Shupin.

The Welbergs named her Linde after the linden tree, known in the Netherlands for its resilience. They returned to China in 2004 to adopt a three-year-old boy from Jilin province, whom they named Tim.

As she got older, Welberg began to have frequent emotional outbursts. “She drew pictures [of her biological parents] with tears on their cheeks. When she combed her long hair, she said her biological mother must have had long hair too,” Mieke Welberg says.

Lianna Fogg at home in Philadelphia with her adoptive mother, Susan, and twin siblings Joshua and Caitlyn Fogg.

Lianna Fogg at home in Philadelphia with her adoptive mother, Susan, and twin siblings Joshua and Caitlyn Fogg. Photo: Zou Biyu

A year before Linde was given her new name and uprooted for a life in the Netherlands, Susan and Jerry Fogg traveled to Feidong county, in the eastern province of Anhui, to adopt Lianna. They took the two-year-old back to Philadelphia and raised her along with their own five-year-old twins, Caitlyn and Joshua.

But by the age of 14, she was having a hard time fitting in. “I didn’t look American, but I didn’t feel Chinese either,” she recalls. “I wanted to find my roots and build my identity from my lost Chinese heritage.”

Throughout high school, Fogg saved money she earned from her part-time job at an ice cream parlor for a trip to China. Last year, when she turned 20, she intensified her search. With the help of a Chinese friend she met on Facebook, Fogg contacted the Feidong county government.

An official posted a notice about Fogg’s search on the county’s WeChat account, and asked her to mail over a DNA sample.

Within two weeks, three families had come forward for DNA testing. One sample, from a family surnamed Yang, matched Fogg’s. “They told me I had a brother and sister,” she recalls.

On July 21, 2018, she boarded a plane bound for China.

That same month, Welberg left the Netherlands on her own pilgrimage.

At the age of six, her adoptive mother had told her about the one-child policy China introduced in 1979, during which parents with more than one child could be punished with heavy fines or lose their jobs. Millions of mothers had abortions and in many cases were sterilized.

Mieke told Linde that her biological mother could have chosen to terminate her pregnancy, but since she did not, she would never have forgotten her daughter.

The Welbergs had visited Gutian county twice, in 2011 and 2012, to look for their daughter’s biological family.

MAR

19

2019

TRANSLATING CHINA

SOCIETY

After a lifetime of searching, two adopted Chinese find their birth parents

Photo: Zou Biyu

by

Vivian Chiu

0SHARES

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Growing up in the Netherlands, Linde Welberg knew she had the most loving parents a child could ask for. Yet she had always felt something was missing from her life.

Long before her father and mother told her she was adopted, she instinctively knew it.

“I felt a part of me was missing,” she says.

On the other side of the Atlantic, in the US city of Philadelphia, Lianna Fogg was going through similar turmoil. “I shared the same dream of every adoptee,” says Fogg. “Not just to find my birth parents, but to be accepted by them.”

I shared the same dream of every adoptee. Not just to find my birth parents, but to be accepted by them.

- Lianna Fogg

SHARE

The two young women have never met, but share a common experience. Put up for adoption as a consequence of China’s now-abandoned one-child policy, both have lived lives far removed from the circumstances of their birth.

Each has felt pangs of separation and loss, torn between two worlds, despite being raised in loving homes.

Both have bridged the divide between them and their lost families through dogged determination and the power of social media. Last year, the two young women visited China for emotional reunions and a sense of closure.

The Welberg family – Wim, Tim, Linde, and Mieke – in Hong Kong in 2018.

The Welberg family – Wim, Tim, Linde, and Mieke – in Hong Kong in 2018. Photo: Jonathan Wong

In 2001, Wim and Mieke Welberg traveled to Gutian county in southern China’s Fujian province, to adopt a one-year-old girl by the name of Lin Shupin.

The Welbergs named her Linde after the linden tree, known in the Netherlands for its resilience. They returned to China in 2004 to adopt a three-year-old boy from Jilin province, whom they named Tim.

As she got older, Welberg began to have frequent emotional outbursts. “She drew pictures [of her biological parents] with tears on their cheeks. When she combed her long hair, she said her biological mother must have had long hair too,” Mieke Welberg says.

Lianna Fogg at home in Philadelphia with her adoptive mother, Susan, and twin siblings Joshua and Caitlyn Fogg.

Lianna Fogg at home in Philadelphia with her adoptive mother, Susan, and twin siblings Joshua and Caitlyn Fogg. Photo: Zou Biyu

A year before Linde was given her new name and uprooted for a life in the Netherlands, Susan and Jerry Fogg traveled to Feidong county, in the eastern province of Anhui, to adopt Lianna. They took the two-year-old back to Philadelphia and raised her along with their own five-year-old twins, Caitlyn and Joshua.

But by the age of 14, she was having a hard time fitting in. “I didn’t look American, but I didn’t feel Chinese either,” she recalls. “I wanted to find my roots and build my identity from my lost Chinese heritage.”

Throughout high school, Fogg saved money she earned from her part-time job at an ice cream parlor for a trip to China. Last year, when she turned 20, she intensified her search. With the help of a Chinese friend she met on Facebook, Fogg contacted the Feidong county government.

I didn’t look American, but I didn’t feel Chinese either

- Lianna Fogg

SHARE

An official posted a notice about Fogg’s search on the county’s WeChat account, and asked her to mail over a DNA sample.

Within two weeks, three families had come forward for DNA testing. One sample, from a family surnamed Yang, matched Fogg’s. “They told me I had a brother and sister,” she recalls.

On July 21, 2018, she boarded a plane bound for China.

Lianna Fogg (right) with her younger brother and older sister in Anhui province, China.

Lianna Fogg (right) with her younger brother and older sister in Anhui province, China. Photo: Zou Biyou

That same month, Welberg left the Netherlands on her own pilgrimage.

At the age of six, her adoptive mother had told her about the one-child policy China introduced in 1979, during which parents with more than one child could be punished with heavy fines or lose their jobs. Millions of mothers had abortions and in many cases were sterilized.

Mieke told Linde that her biological mother could have chosen to terminate her pregnancy, but since she did not, she would never have forgotten her daughter.

The Welbergs had visited Gutian county twice, in 2011 and 2012, to look for their daughter’s biological family.

I’d find myself staring at people’s faces, wondering if my parents were among them

- Linde Welberg

SHARE

“Whenever I was on the streets of Gutian, I’d find myself staring at people’s faces, wondering if my parents were among them,” Linde Welberg says.

By 2017, the search for Linde’s birth parents had become a full-time job for her mother, who spent hours every day making connections on Chinese social media, using online translation tools to communicate.

She posted a video of Linde reading an emotional letter to her birth parents on Weibo and streaming site Youku. The video went viral, and Chinese internet users began coming forward with information.

The breakthrough came in April 2018 when one of her aunts saw a local news story about the case. Thinking the girl’s face looked familiar, she contacted the Zhang family, who submitted a DNA sample. It was an exact match with Welberg’s.

In July, in an emotional reunion in the western province of Sichuan, where the Zhangs now live, Welberg met her birth family. She had just turned 18 years old.

“They hugged me. My mother cried. I was overwhelmed, confused but really happy. My dream had come true,” Welberg says.

Welberg’s biological parents explained that they had been impoverished when she was born and could not afford to provide for her. They left her outside the orphanage where she spent the first year of her life.

Welberg’s birth mother was devastated by her loss, saying it took her years to recover, and they had never stopped searching for her.

That same month, about 600 miles to the east in Anhui, more than 50 relatives packed the family home to greet Lianna Fogg.

They gave her gifts, red packets filled with lucky money, and a new name: Yang Mengyuan, meaning dream fulfilled.

“The moment I saw my birth mom, my mind went blank,” Fogg says. “I’d replayed this scene in my mind so many times since I was 14. My mom was sobbing and kept repeating ‘sorry, sorry’. She held me so tight, as if she was afraid she’d lose me again.”

MAR

19

2019

TRANSLATING CHINA

SOCIETY

After a lifetime of searching, two adopted Chinese find their birth parents

Photo: Zou Biyu

by

Vivian Chiu

0SHARES

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Amazon Alexa

Podcast

Get the Inkstone Daily Brief

Inkstone publishes six stories every weekday at 6:00am (ET) to bring you fresh insight into China.

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Growing up in the Netherlands, Linde Welberg knew she had the most loving parents a child could ask for. Yet she had always felt something was missing from her life.

Long before her father and mother told her she was adopted, she instinctively knew it.

“I felt a part of me was missing,” she says.

On the other side of the Atlantic, in the US city of Philadelphia, Lianna Fogg was going through similar turmoil. “I shared the same dream of every adoptee,” says Fogg. “Not just to find my birth parents, but to be accepted by them.”

I shared the same dream of every adoptee. Not just to find my birth parents, but to be accepted by them.

- Lianna Fogg

SHARE

The two young women have never met, but share a common experience. Put up for adoption as a consequence of China’s now-abandoned one-child policy, both have lived lives far removed from the circumstances of their birth.

Each has felt pangs of separation and loss, torn between two worlds, despite being raised in loving homes.

Both have bridged the divide between them and their lost families through dogged determination and the power of social media. Last year, the two young women visited China for emotional reunions and a sense of closure.

The Welberg family – Wim, Tim, Linde, and Mieke – in Hong Kong in 2018.

The Welberg family – Wim, Tim, Linde, and Mieke – in Hong Kong in 2018. Photo: Jonathan Wong

In 2001, Wim and Mieke Welberg traveled to Gutian county in southern China’s Fujian province, to adopt a one-year-old girl by the name of Lin Shupin.

The Welbergs named her Linde after the linden tree, known in the Netherlands for its resilience. They returned to China in 2004 to adopt a three-year-old boy from Jilin province, whom they named Tim.

As she got older, Welberg began to have frequent emotional outbursts. “She drew pictures [of her biological parents] with tears on their cheeks. When she combed her long hair, she said her biological mother must have had long hair too,” Mieke Welberg says.

Lianna Fogg at home in Philadelphia with her adoptive mother, Susan, and twin siblings Joshua and Caitlyn Fogg.

Lianna Fogg at home in Philadelphia with her adoptive mother, Susan, and twin siblings Joshua and Caitlyn Fogg. Photo: Zou Biyu

A year before Linde was given her new name and uprooted for a life in the Netherlands, Susan and Jerry Fogg traveled to Feidong county, in the eastern province of Anhui, to adopt Lianna. They took the two-year-old back to Philadelphia and raised her along with their own five-year-old twins, Caitlyn and Joshua.

But by the age of 14, she was having a hard time fitting in. “I didn’t look American, but I didn’t feel Chinese either,” she recalls. “I wanted to find my roots and build my identity from my lost Chinese heritage.”

Throughout high school, Fogg saved money she earned from her part-time job at an ice cream parlor for a trip to China. Last year, when she turned 20, she intensified her search. With the help of a Chinese friend she met on Facebook, Fogg contacted the Feidong county government.

I didn’t look American, but I didn’t feel Chinese either

- Lianna Fogg

SHARE

An official posted a notice about Fogg’s search on the county’s WeChat account, and asked her to mail over a DNA sample.

Within two weeks, three families had come forward for DNA testing. One sample, from a family surnamed Yang, matched Fogg’s. “They told me I had a brother and sister,” she recalls.

On July 21, 2018, she boarded a plane bound for China.

Lianna Fogg (right) with her younger brother and older sister in Anhui province, China.

Lianna Fogg (right) with her younger brother and older sister in Anhui province, China. Photo: Zou Biyou

That same month, Welberg left the Netherlands on her own pilgrimage.

At the age of six, her adoptive mother had told her about the one-child policy China introduced in 1979, during which parents with more than one child could be punished with heavy fines or lose their jobs. Millions of mothers had abortions and in many cases were sterilized.

Mieke told Linde that her biological mother could have chosen to terminate her pregnancy, but since she did not, she would never have forgotten her daughter.

The Welbergs had visited Gutian county twice, in 2011 and 2012, to look for their daughter’s biological family.

I’d find myself staring at people’s faces, wondering if my parents were among them

- Linde Welberg

SHARE

“Whenever I was on the streets of Gutian, I’d find myself staring at people’s faces, wondering if my parents were among them,” Linde Welberg says.

By 2017, the search for Linde’s birth parents had become a full-time job for her mother, who spent hours every day making connections on Chinese social media, using online translation tools to communicate.

She posted a video of Linde reading an emotional letter to her birth parents on Weibo and streaming site Youku. The video went viral, and Chinese internet users began coming forward with information.

The breakthrough came in April 2018 when one of her aunts saw a local news story about the case. Thinking the girl’s face looked familiar, she contacted the Zhang family, who submitted a DNA sample. It was an exact match with Welberg’s.

Linde Welberg and her birth parents, the Zhangs.

Linde Welberg and her birth parents, the Zhangs. Photo: Handout

In July, in an emotional reunion in the western province of Sichuan, where the Zhangs now live, Welberg met her birth family. She had just turned 18 years old.

“They hugged me. My mother cried. I was overwhelmed, confused but really happy. My dream had come true,” Welberg says.

Welberg’s biological parents explained that they had been impoverished when she was born and could not afford to provide for her. They left her outside the orphanage where she spent the first year of her life.

Welberg’s birth mother was devastated by her loss, saying it took her years to recover, and they had never stopped searching for her.

Susan Fogg’s gift to Lianna’s birth mother – a necklace containing a picture of Lianna as a child.

Susan Fogg’s gift to Lianna’s birth mother – a necklace containing a picture of Lianna as a child. Photo: Zou Biyou

That same month, about 600 miles to the east in Anhui, more than 50 relatives packed the family home to greet Lianna Fogg.

They gave her gifts, red packets filled with lucky money, and a new name: Yang Mengyuan, meaning dream fulfilled.

“The moment I saw my birth mom, my mind went blank,” Fogg says. “I’d replayed this scene in my mind so many times since I was 14. My mom was sobbing and kept repeating ‘sorry, sorry’. She held me so tight, as if she was afraid she’d lose me again.”

My mom was sobbing and kept repeating ‘sorry, sorry’. She held me so tight, as if she was afraid she’d lose me again

- Lianna Fogg

SHARE

Over the following days, Fogg listened to her birth parents’ account of events leading up to the separation, and forgave them for the difficult decision they had been forced to make.

Welberg had a similar message for her birth parents. “I told them that my childhood in the Netherlands had been happy. I said I understood their situation and that I had forgiven them,” she says.

Welberg was also given a new name by her biological parents – Qiqi, meaning miracle. Since Welberg and Fogg returned to their adopted countries, they have communicated regularly with their Chinese families on WeChat.

Welberg is studying hotel management in the Netherlands, but says she is planning to study Chinese in Chengdu – a promise she made to her biological parents.

Fogg, who is taking a degree course in global studies in Pennsylvania, says she will return to see her birth parents in Anhui, and will invite them to visit the US.

“I feel so much more content after our reunion,” Welberg says. “It has completed me. But I’m very aware that not everyone is so lucky. More than anything I feel grateful, and my heart goes out to all the adoptees who are still searching.”