Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Mom to Mom

As a part of my adoption dossier, I am required to write a letter to the biological mother of the child I am to receive. This is the last part missing before the dossier comes to a completion, but I've left it undone for far too long. What do I say to the one who bore her child and had to let her go. To carry a growing baby inside your womb, to feel it's movements and have seen it's small figure safely bunched up inside you. All the while, only growing more attached with every passing day, but in her head making plans to save her life and her babies future life, to make things better. She must have had wrestled with her self, one part knowing she cannot keep this child to raise it in the scrutiny of the cultures' judging eyes, and another part convincing herself that she can be the strong one and raise this child all by sheer will.

I don't consider my suffering nearly as great as the one that will give birth to a baby, and go home from the hospital with empty arms. But I will share with her that I did once go to the hospital with child and indeed come home with empty arms, we will share that togther. In the end though, I will be the beneficiary to a gift that she could not keep, to know a little girl or boy that will be no doubt a complete blessing to us. I will have to tell her how brave she was to choose to let her baby live, only to relinquish that baby to strangers in a foreign land, never to hear from again. She will know that she chose what is good, and that she didn't make a mistake in "giving her child away" like re gifting an unwanted birthday gift. And that she made a choice that is unselfish and all together for the good of others only. I will acknowledge that a mother, no matter how young, broken or down and out, that a mother, would never forget the baby she gave birth to... she will always remember and she will always wonder, and I will do the best to reassure her that although I am a stranger, I have every intention of loving and caring for this baby...because this baby, is ours.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Say hi to what you're looking for...

The past couple days, my mind's been swirling with thoughts. Not my own thoughts, but thoughts and sentiments that some stranger had once and put them down on the virtual white board for all to see. I appreciate it because I see in her, someone that wasn't on drugs and alcohol and in the stupor, she was irresponsible with her life and ended it. She genuinely sought out some meaning and the absolute Truth that she's didn't make up, or you didn't make up. She wanted to know who she belonged to. I appreciate her and feel sorry for her because in so many ways, I have the same thoughts and tendencies as this vagabond, but the only thing separating me and Daul is that I know Jesus. Without him, I am dead, maybe even literally. Without Jesus and belonging to the high King of Kings, what purpose and what worth would I have on earth? I am nothing apart from what I am in Christ. Amen.

the reason why i liked unbearable lightness of being
is because i related to a scene where the girl is looking at herself in the mirror not out of vanity, but with a desperate effort to see beyond genetics, heritage. to see her true self beyond her mothers face. desperate attempt to see her soul. -Daul

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Say hi to what kim Daul taught me about Community...

I recently read a blog entry by a woman who had lost her husband to suicide and she openly shares about what she found after he had left their family. How he had picked up dry cleaning just a couple days prior and picked up a month's worth of vitamins just the day before. She wonders how one can go one living one day as though they would live on for at least another month, according to his vitamin purchase, but only to kill one self the next day. What's more ironic is that she had posted an entry just a few months prior describing a tragic story about a Korean model who had committed suicide at the tender age of twenty something. She just concludes that suicide is for all and the beautiful is not immune to it.

When I read her conclusion, I sensed this up in the air feeling of, that's not the conclusion or the lesson here, something is truly wrong, and if anything beauty contributes to the likelihood of suicide, especially is she was a young model who lived away from her parents since she was 16, which was the case here. I began reading Daul's blog online and it was not that different from mine, expressing sadness, loneliness, loss, happiness, she had birthdays, she went shopping, and she liked to read and listen to music. I couldn't help but to read her entries, one after another, until I had read her blog in it's entirety. She shared her deepest thoughts, but in the end, she felt she was alone. Perhaps she was, she didn't know true community and at the risk of sounding like a Bible Banger with "Jesus Loves Me this I know" playing in the background, she truly did need Him. Like that's what she's been longing for all this time.

She says things like, people see me as a piece of meat and they come and see this piece of meat rot. Yes, aren't we all dying, rotting flesh without the redeeming and life giving breath of God? She seemed to me another soul-less, entitled, spoiled child who didn't get what she wanted in life and she killed herself. But that wasn't so. She didn't of course, get what she ultimately longed for, she wanted True Love and True meaning. You can tell when she says things like, "I'm living a life of decadence and what is it worth?" She says she was disconnected and abandoned, which makes me think of the Connection Sunday we had a couple of weeks ago at our Church because people were beginning to feel disconnected and abandoned. She's not that much different from you and me, because that's the natural human condition of wanting to be in community. We were built this way in human nature. So, we ought not to look down our noses to say, "yes, I can see why this poor child ended her empty life, she tried to fill the void with fast cars, expensive frocks and free living." We often feel the same way she does only, we try to fill it with slow mini-vans, weekends, and suburban living.

It makes me rethink how crucial community living is. To connect with someone on a human level because God says, "Love your neighbor." I know that means more than just connection, but to do the hard thing, but then again, isn't that how you build true community? To stop hurting one another, to speak truth, good things, beautiful things and spur each other on to live this full life without wanting to end it all the time?

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Adoption is the new pregnant ...

or it has a strong parallels to each other, that's for sure. A few weeks back, Hans and I attended a class called Adoption Parenting Class down in Bloomington, Illinois. We really didn't learn much more than we already knew and they talked about culture and ethnicity most of the time, focusing on white family who adopt from Korea. It did occur to me that my culture may not be the same as a child from Korea, but I'm not sure how much culture a 10 month old would soak up in that short amount of time. Maybe we would be equally yoked in the amount of Korean we speak and the familiarity of Korea.

What we did get out of the group was network and support. It was quite nice to meet people who are in the same boat as you, and know exactly how you feel and know exactly what you mean when you say certain things. You come from the same place when you say them. What was curious more, was the language used throughout the whole class. As we mingled with one another, we asked each other questions like, " how far along are you?" And of course, we knew that it meant, how far along are you in the process. Or things like "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" That's more asking, have you gotten a referral (or in biologically pregnant terms: have you gotten your ultrasound and did you find out what you're having?). Furthermore, during one of the lectures, the speaker had us identify things that are different between a biological pregnancy and an adoptive/paper pregnancy, because we would be confused if we didn't identify the definite difference.

It's amazing to me that God has made the word pregnancy and where babies really come from in such a new and amazing way. It's not a stretch to say that there's a parallel and strong commonalities between the two ways of obtaining a baby. Even to the point when you finally receive that phone call with the travel notice, you feel you need to pack up and hop on the plane, because you're in labor in a sense. My girlfriend says that the trip back with the baby on a 12 hour plane ride is definitely labor, in all it's meaning. Some even have post adoptive baby blues, just like you would if you were a biological mother, going through the blues of not being fully adjusted to having a strange baby in the house for good. As for me, still going through the first trimester of being pregnant, preparing to find out about the baby, then the second trimester would come of waiting to be matched up and the third, to wait for the travel notice. Who knows when I'll go into the labor, after all, due dates are only approximates.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

100 th Post

When I began this blog, I never thought anyone would be reading it, and since it's beginning, it's been a place of release for my inner thoughts and angst as well as just a place to share what God's been doing in my life. It's caused conversations and controversy, but moreover, readers have commented on how they shed tears and laughed out loud at some of the things I've written. This reaction from my "public" has been more than I asked for, and I am thankful that it's been a vehicle for empathy and release for both me and my audience. Even thought these are only my perspective on life, and not the absolute Truth, I've come to communicate my thoughts, however fleeting they may be or how provincial, to the world out there.

I feel like I'm writing some acceptance speech for the "100th post" award, where I am wearing a classic Versace gown with my hair swept up, but I really do have to thank the people around me who have encouraged me to keep writing. Especially when I thought that I had no writing skills and I claimed that "I'm no writer." But who cares right? When does anyone become a writer? when is the exact moment that you transform from one to another? I guess it's when you get that writer's license after 4 years of intensive course work plus 2 years of residency. So, since no one is going to hand me a trophy or plaque and declare that I have achieved so much, I present this blog page to me, who has written 100 posts in about 2 years, congratulations! Brava!

I would treat myself to a latte today, just like any write would, while smoking a cigarette, but I gave it up for lent. Yes, the latte too.