whiplash

On a Wednesday evening in January, I told my husband I needed to organize and purge all the baby clothing, and that I was going to stay up late to get it done. I knew I'd regret the lack of sleep the next morning, I told him, but I was sick of looking at the clothes piled everywhere. As I walked up the stairs a little after 1am, I glanced at my phone and noticed an email had come in. It was from the adoption agency.

"I've checked your documents, attached is your file, here is the process to do a birth parent search... I'm afraid we have no identifying information about your birth father for the search and for this reason it would not be possible to initiate a search.

On the other hand, I have great news about your birth mother search." 

At this point, I really just thought she was going to tell me that they had all the necessary information to begin, and I half expected her to request further information from my end.

"She has tried to find you since 2007," the email said instead. "She wants to get in touch with you to develop a closer relationship...she wants to meet you in person if you come to Korea in the future." The next step, I was told, was to email a letter and include pictures, and they would translate it for me and send it to her. Wait, what?? I couldn't believe they'd found her so quickly. What was supposed to take months instead took days, and as my brain fumbled to make sense of what I'd just read, I went into the bedroom and gently shook my husband's arm. "They found her...they found her and she wants to meet me." He sat straight up and we made our way to the couch in the living room where we half sat, half slouched, as we both stared up at the ceiling in a daze.

"This is shocking." "It only took a week." "I feel like I'm in a movie." "It feels like a movie." "Whoa."

It took me a few hours to fall asleep as I tried to wrap my head around this news, all the while pondering such questions as, do I have other siblings/nieces/nephews? How does one reconnect with a stranger? What do I even say? How do I begin? Is it okay to ask her questions? Is there anything I might ask that would be unwittingly offensive or disrespectful in Korean culture? I didn't have a name for her, so how would I address her? Was I ready to call her "Mom"?

In the days to come, the questions continued to circulate, but as I started formulating the email mentally, I found myself gravitating towards telling her about my accomplishments, which is not usually my personality type. I realized I was trying to impress her, but also realized that would make for a dry email, so I kept writing until something felt right (some details edited for privacy)...

Hello,

It is so good to be writing you and reconnecting. I think about you so often and pray for you, too. There is so much to catch up on, but I thought I would start with some highlights...

I was adopted in March 1987 by a Catholic, American family. My Dad was an Officer in the US Army, and my family was stationed in Seoul at the time of my adoption. We moved to Virginia when I was 4, and I lived there until I was 25. I've lived in several places since then, but recently moved back to Virginia. In 2013 I married a wonderful man, and we have a beautiful family of our own.

I am so curious to know you and learn more about you. Do you still live in JeonJu City? Have you ever traveled outside of Korea, and more specifically, have you ever traveled to the United States? Do you have other children? What are some of your hobbies? I grew up playing piano and flute, and music is very special to me. I've always wondered if you are musical, if that is something I received from you. My family tells me that when I was first adopted, I used to get out of my bed and stand by the window, singing Silent Night (in Korean). A friend once pointed out that you must have taught me that song. Did we sing it together?

There is so much more to say, but I think this is a good start. I hope you are well, and I hope that you and your loved ones have been able to stay healthy during this pandemic.

With love,

Amy (Yoon Joo)

the search begins

One of the most frequently asked questions I receive as an adoptee is, will I search for my birth mom? The answer was always no, "unless I had a medical crisis." Then the answer changed to no, "because I think I have all the answers to the questions most adoptees have and I don't feel like I need to." When I started therapy with my current counselor last Spring, the words no sooner came out of my mouth when I realized, well actually that's the nice, neat answer I can tie up with a pretty bow; it's safe, it's concise, and it's not messy. For the first time in my life I wasn't sure if it was still true, but it is similar to when you ask someone, "how are you?" and you hope they just say, "I'm well," so you can both move on with your day.

Fast forward several months, throw in some healing and an Instagram post (how 2021), and wouldn't you know, that answer is indeed different. Not only is it no longer, "I don't think I need to," the answer is, "actually, I think I want to do this." What a massive shift. What about Instagram specifically ignited the shift, you may wonder. Writing out my thoughts that day was the first time I truly reflected on what my adoption could have felt like for my birth mom. Approaching it through the lens of now being a mother myself, one of whom is older than I was when I was "relinquished," gave me pause for thought. I considered what I might feel like if one of my children was gone from my life, knowing he or she was most likely still alive. Wouldn't I want to know how life turned out for that child? Allowing myself that reflection in turn gave me permission to wonder about my birth mom, in a new way I hadn't before. How did life turn out for her? What are her hobbies and interests? One question that perhaps most adoptees wonder: what does she look like?! I'm told often that my daughter is my mini. Am I my birth mom's?

I sat with this newfound desire for a few days before taking the plunge. Oftentimes I suffer through analysis paralysis, but in this case I decided that since the birth family search can take some time (months, maybe even a year or more), I would take the first step and that would still give me time to work through all of the thoughts and emotions that were brewing. I did also let my parents and siblings know that I would begin this search, as a way to include them in the process. And exactly a week after I submitted my paperwork I received a reply, and I assumed they were letting me know they received my email. 

Instead, they told me they found my birth mother.

it all started with... Instagram?

There are many factors behind the origins of this journey (specifically, searching for my birth mom and as such, starting this blog), but perhaps the biggest catalyst was, of all things, an Instagram post.

As my Adoption Day was approaching last December, I felt a prompting to write about it on Instagram, which felt so strange. I'm not one to post very often, and when I do the contents are certainly not out of the depths of my heart. Nevertheless, I followed through on the prompting and worked out what I thought the post should say. First I thought it would be an angsty, put you in your place, this is what you shouldn't say to adoptees, message. But I considered that what one person may find upsetting or comforting might be completely different for me, and vice versa. So the post morphed into (still angsty), adoptees need to have a voice! I always hear the birth mom story, rightfully so, and I always hear the biological mom story, also rightfully so. But it's not very often we hear from the adoptee. GIVE US A VOICE! I thought I would say. But as I began to write the words changed shape into something different, and while I didn't write it for the response, the response I received was overwhelming, unexpected, and humbling. It wasn't about the volume of responses so much as the stories and connections shared, and I was reminded how many people I know who have a connection to adoption. It also set the rest of this journey into motion, so without any further introduction, I present to you the infamous post:

It's so wild how one event, one day, can change the entire trajectory of your life. If today hadn't happened 35 years ago, I wouldn't know any of you. My adoption was the answer to many prayers- 10 years of prayer to be exact. My mom prayed for 10 years to adopt a 3 year old girl. 3 years before I was even born she journaled, asking God if He would choose a daughter for her to adopt, and then she wrote out my name, "Amy Elizabeth." What faith! How specific were her desires! And she was relentless in her dream. Her part of the story is truly incredible and I'll have to share it with you someday.

I recently started reflecting on what today must mean to my birth mom. Also an answer to her prayers: a family for her daughter who could give her what she couldn't. But what heartache and emptiness she must have felt, too. Adoption hits a lot different when you become a mom. To walk away from my children at any age, but in particular at 3, is unthinkable...unbearable. What faith, what strength, what love my birth mom had. As the story goes, I used to look out my bedroom window at night and sing Silent Night in Korean. Probably wondering where she was, maybe wondering where I was, too. I wonder if she thinks of me when she hears it now.

And here I am, 35 years later, and truthfully- struggling with my adoption more than I ever have before. Grateful for this life, grateful for my family, grateful for my moms. But like many things in life, adoption is beautiful and hard and messy. I used to think I should only be grateful, and not give credence to any of the sad emotions that came along. I'm slowly allowing myself to embrace it all, sadness and anger and messiness included. And it is hard. But I have to believe that there is purpose and redemption to come, and maybe some of that has already been fulfilled. And I believe there will be more to come; this isn't the end of the story. So I trudge forward, clinging to what hope I have, staying as present as I can to this beautiful life before me. Grateful to know all of you.

"Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6

In the end I realized that the best way to give adoptees a voice was to speak up and share my own story, so here I am. Welcome to my life, welcome to my story. I'm so glad you're here.