When I set out to write this series on adoption, my two goals were to educate and encourage. Even though the subject isn’t near and dear to everyone like it is to me, I wanted to take all of you on a brief tour into the heart of adoption. For those of you who share an adoption story with me, well, I would like to wrap my arms around you all and squeeze. Tight.
The response has been overwhelming and emotional. Your stories and comments have been touching, encouraging and most of all…humbling. I thought I was here to teach you something. Know what? YOU taught me. I learned my heart can be stretched farther than I ever imagined. Thanks bunches and tons for sharing your thoughts. You Gigglers are an incredible group of people to write for.
So, it’s the final article and I planned on speaking to those who are adopted. As I started writing this, though, I realized there are others who also need to be recognized. Think of this as a curtain call- when the entire cast is called out to the stage to take their bows. It’s at that moment when we see all the characters together, the stitches that were sewn to hold the plot together. And so…
To my adopted friends:
We are very fortunate.
When I was younger, I didn’t see that. I harbored this bitterness because my birth mom in Korea had “given up on me.” It was like carrying a heavy stone that rolled around my soul until it had worn smooth. If you’re still harboring something similar, may I suggest you take hold of it and examine it carefully from every angle. Hold it in your hand, run your fingers along the rough edges, and then throw it as far away from you as possible. Easier said than done, I know. It will require time— it’s taken me over 30 years to let go of the hurt and disappointment.
Do you want to know something profound? You are reading this article because my birth mom made the decision to put me up for adoption. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here to tell you this: Your life is important. You are not a mistake. Nothing is a waste. So, travel light… forgive.
We are the fortunate ones— we were given a new start, a different path. We will never know what our lives would have been had we remained with our birth families. I know for me personally, I would be living in Seoul, Korea in poverty, with very little education, support or hope. No happy story to share. I was one of the very few who was rescued from such a bleak and inevitable future. Words can never describe.
(Oy. I have to stop a minute because I’m sobbing now. Like, Diane Keaton in “Something’s Gotta Give” sobbing.)
To the parents who have adopted:
You are beyond amazing to me. I’ve stated before that adoption does not make a person more special than anyone else. However, what is special and unique is the desire to want a child who is not biologically yours, and yet love them no differently than if you conceived them. Adopted kids were born from the heart. It’s an astounding and beautiful phenomenon, yes?
Lovely Mom and Dashing Dad, thank you for loving me, your little sophisticated and artistic bohemian. I never felt for a moment like I was your ADOPTED daughter. I was always fully yours. I am, however, quietly amused that I referred to you as, “Hey, honky!” when I was four. In public. Out loud. Often. (On a related note: Thanks for letting me watch The Jeffersons.)
Sometimes I stop to realize you could have received the kid in the crib next to me in Korea, but didn’t. I won’t ask the whys or hows, because I’m sure if it was explained to me, I still couldn’t comprehend it. All I know is that I’m grateful I’m here. I’m grateful you’re mine. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to carve out a tiny space in this world where I am free to be safe, successful, strong—full. May I never take a moment of this for granted.
To my birth mom and those who have given a child up for adoption:
All that remained of you was a name imprinted on my birth certificate with crude, typewriter keys and then covered over with Wite-Out by the hospital staff in Korea. Years later, the paper degraded and I could read your name when I held it up to a light. Your anonymity removed by time and age: “Mok Young Um.” No longer a nameless phantom.
I want you to know how brave I think you are, Mok Young Um. You were alone in a country that ostracizes people of mixed race. You were Korean and Caucasian. You were shunned and disadvantaged. Somewhere deep within myself, there’s an imprint of the pain you felt when you carried me for eight months, agonizing over the decision to let me go. You told the nurse to “please give her a sweet home.” That was your gift to me. The only valuable thing you owned— the opportunity to live. Not to survive, but to LIVE. Thank you for this.
Above all, I want you to know I am safe, I laugh often and I’ve carried a part of you halfway across the world, never to forget- but to honor you. I hope you would be proud.
For those of you who have given up children for adoption, do not let others condemn you, including yourself. You made a very selfless decision in the midst of a difficult situation. You may never meet your child in person and I can’t speak for them, but as a person who was adopted, you have my deepest respect.
Wow. What an amazing experience this has been. Thank you again for listening to my story, allowing me to open up my heart and opening yours in return.
This is not the end of the story. Many of you who are reading this will adopt someday, and a new story will begin. I hope to read yours in the future. Others, like myself, will search for their birth families hoping to trace out the roadmap of their heritage. Whatever the case may be, I wish you all the best on your journeys.
Yours truly,
Sriracha Sarah
My husband and I are the parents of a daughter and a son from South Korea, and I loved reading your blog! Our daughter is 14, and our son is 11 1/2, and they are the blessings we had prayed for for many years (I used to joke-until it got kinda “old”-that I had a 21-month long pregnancy with our daughter, because it took that long from the moment we applied for adoption until we finally got to bring her home with us). I hope you keep writing, because when I read your posts, I felt like you somehow knew us. We send our very best wishes to you in your search for your birth mother. I hope to read more from you!!
Oh, wow, Kendel! I’m so glad the series resonated, because I wrote it with families like yours in mind. Thank you for reading it and sending me your lovely comments!
I’ve always known I had been adopted and I’ll be grateful my whole life for this. I’m proud of my parents and honoured to be their daughter, they went through a lot to be able to have kids and finally they allowed me to be part of the family they wanted so bad. I was lucky to grow up like a normal kid thanks to them, and I couldn’t have dreamt of better parents. My only fear as a kid was to be taken from them (even if I knew they were my official and only parents) and given back to my ‘birth’ family, which I’ll probably never meet anyway. It’s not that I’m angry or resentful towards my ‘birth’ parents, I just don’t care actually, I don’t need anything from them, everything I need I get it from the people who have been supporting me since I was 4-month-old. So, I’m considering adoption for the future, of course, but no matter how I become a parent, I want to be just like mine to my kids. (Well, I cried a little bit while reading your posts…I don’t mind talking about being adopted and I don’t feel like I need to, but it feels good to know some people are able to write such right things about adoptee’s mixed feelings//Thanks & Good luck)
Thank you for sharing your story with me, Anaïs! Yes, I’ve been through lots of mixed feelings as well and am so glad we had great parents to keep us centered. Best to you as well!
As a fellow adoptee, thank you so much for your series. I just read each piece and am going to recommend them to anyone I know who’s adopted or is thinking about doing so. You really hit everything — most of the time when I read something on adoption, someone has left out a huge piece of it. Thank you especially for your advice to parents about telling their children that they’re adopted. My parents joke that they started telling me I was adopted the first day they brought me home — but it’s true! I can’t remember a day not knowing I was adopted, and I appreciate that. I have two close friends who weren’t told until much later in life, and they really resent that. I think telling ASAP is definitely the way to go.
While I never really resented my birthmom, I had a lot of questions for her. I was able to meet her after I graduated high school, and we still talk every month or so. It has been a beautiful, redemptive, and healing relationship for both of us. She was so scared I would hate her for “giving me up,” and I was worried that she wasn’t going to understand that I had a mom and dad and didn’t want her to replace them. When we met, things could not have gone more smoothly. She knows I love her dearly and don’t hate her, and I know she loves me and doesn’t expect me to ditch my family for her and her family. It’s a joy to know her and a blessing to have that part of my life answered.
I have a friend who’s adopted from South Korea and she just started her search two years ago. I nannied for a family who adopted from South Korea, and they made every effort to gain as much information as they could about her birthmother (in hopes that one day, she can reconnect with her daughter). I wish you all the best in your search and hope that you at least get to visit the country. (I went four years ago and it is beautiful!)
Aubra! Oh my. Thank you so much for sharing your story with me. I’m so glad you reconnected with your birth mom. I’m not sure what the future holds in terms of the search for my birth mom, but I think it’s important to come full-circle. Your story was so encouraging for me to read.
Please tell your friend I hope she’s successful in her search as well!
I can’t thank you enough for writing this series of articles. I’ve known I was going to adopt since I was eight years old– at that age I just didn’t understand why someone would have their own child while there are so many children out there in need of homes. Call it youthful idealism, but I never turned away from that thought, especially after I took a trip to volunteer in orphanages in Africa. But I always feared about an adopted child not being able to think of me as mom (or feeling weird about having a white mom while he/she is of a different ethnicity), and I’d love to have the same relationship my mother and I have (my mama’s my best friend). Your writing has helped to put my mind a little more at ease. Maybe one day I’ll have a son/daughter and share your articles with him/her.
Dana, I can’t thank YOU enough for your comment! I called Lovely Mom and read her what you wrote. We both teared up!
Obviously, my parents and I look very different, but I couldn’t love them any more than if I was their biological child. The only time you’ll be aware of the difference is when someone else points it out. International adoption can have its challenging moments. Some people will be thrilled you adopted. Others won’t understand at all, or may harbor prejudices. You have to be prepared for that. But, rest assured, when you do adopt someday, your child will love you beyond words and there won’t be even a single inch of barrier due to the cultural difference! My best to you!!! (((hugs)))
This is SO beautiful, Sarah. I don’t want your HG journey to end!!
Thank you, Rebecca! It’s been such a wonderful project to work on.