This topic has been near to my heart for a long time. So I thought I would share some thoughts that I have had the past week. Sometimes adoptions can be difficult, much different than ours. There are many factors of the birth mother to consider, the adoptive child(ren).
Thirty-six years ago today (Sep. 13, 1978) my wife and I adopted two brothers from Korea, ages 8 and 6. I have written a little about that adventure. But today I am thinking about those involved: their mother (and sister), us as adoptive parents, and the boys as the ones adopted.
Adopting: Giving to a family
One thing that came to mind after a week of reflecting is that often we hear the phrase “giving up” or “giving away” a child. After being on two of the three sides of this issue, I realize that “giving away” can be pejorative, to everyone but especially the birth mother. By using that phrase perhaps we have imposed on the birth mother something that is not there or making her feel guilty as if she had failed.
This was troubling to me since it seems that we (or at least I) are judging the mother by a different standard. So, on my walk yesterday morning, it dawned on me that the mother is giving the child, yes. However, not “giving away” but giving the child to a family. It makes a world of difference in perspective—for everyone.
About six years ago the birth mother of our boys wrote to them. She wanted to know how they were doing. And she wanted to ask for forgiveness for what she had done. Yet, at the same time, she realized that she didn’t have any options.
The wrestling was even greater for her because she gave the two sons to a family (us), but she had kept her daughter. What a difficult decision that must have been! Truly agonizing. In the long run, she realized she had to do it for the sake of everyone. The most vulnerable was her daughter. Their mother and our older son got to talk on the phone in 2008 (she was visiting her brother in LA). How important that was for both of them, saying things to each other that needed to be said (through her brother translating both ways).
Their mother realized that she didn’t give away her children, but she gave them to a family. For anyone facing (or already faced with) this decision, keep in mind that you are not giving the child “away,” but giving to a family. What more could a mother do for her child? It is a sacrifice to give the child to another family. Family members of the mother are also affected, as I am learning even now.
But the child will always remain in the mother’s heart. For her, the hurt gives way to a sense of peace, and even joy. But let’s give mothers who give their child to a family a great big hug. They need it, and all the love that goes with it. We need it.
Adopting: Receiving the child
When we received notice that the boys would be ours, we were thrilled. But then we had to wait. In fact, we waited four months. We lived in Monterey, CA, and we would pick up the boys at LAX. However, we couldn’t leave home until we knew whether the plane they were on actually left Seoul, Korea.
On Sep. 12 we got the call that we could leave for LA; the flight was due in at Noon on the 13th.
Nervous, excited, uncertain, all the questions that every parent goes through. Yep, we did the same. We had been through the longest wait already (30 months in the process, 4 months since notification of approval) — or so we thought. The international adoption agency was supposed to have someone meet us at the airport to help us prepare and then make the transition. No one ever showed up.
The flight didn’t get into LAX until 3:15 PM. But because we weren’t officially “parents” yet, the airlines wouldn’t even tell us whether they were on the flight. And we couldn’t get access to them, or see them. So my wife stayed at the International Terminal. And I ran back and forth to the baggage claim area—not a short distance! I must have made that trip 15 times.
About 6:30 PM on one of my runs, a man was going in the opposite direction, carrying a Korean infant. He dropped his bag and said, “You’re Mr. Shields, aren’t you?” Not exactly what you would expect at LAX! After I acknowledged who I was, he said, “You have the two cutest little boys!” I said, “Really? Where are they?” He told me they were at baggage claim.
So, I made a mad dash to get my wife from the International Terminal. And we “walked quickly” to the baggage claim area. We got there and saw many people, and especially quite a few Korean children, from infants to young teens. Finally, we saw a woman who was with two little boys (the 8-year-old weighed 38 pounds; the 6-year-old weighed 33 pounds—I could easily pick up both boys in my arms).
She greeted us and said, “We have five minutes until our connecting plane leaves. “This one is Kim Ill Hoe, this is his small [6x6x4 inches] bag. He has to take this medicine, twice a day. This is Kim Joon Hoe, here is his bag.”
And then she was gone. There we were at LAX, unable to speak Korean, and they unable to speak English. We were really on our own. No one to guide us, no one to help us, no one to communicate with these boys. The delivery was a long time coming, but then in an instant, we were parents, receiving the gifts that their mother gave to us on September 13, 1978.
Now 36 years later, we realize what a sacrifice their mother made, and the strength of their mother’s love even to this day. As receiving parents, we gladly accepted her gifts to us.
Adopting: The child(ren) given
I have to write this indirectly because I am the adoptive father, not an adopted child. But I thought at the time, and even more now, about the changes they faced. Living in an orphanage with about 50 other children. Then in a matter of minutes made ready for the trip to Seoul, Korea. Then flying 24 hours, going to a place that they only heard about, with a picture of us in their pockets on the plane, the only hope they had. Changes in living conditions, the food changes, the language barrier. Wow!
I took the boys to the bathroom. How long since they had had a chance to go? Better to be safe. We drove to Thousand Oaks for supper. We ate at a restaurant that overlooked the interstate. Years later they both told us they couldn’t figure out what was going on with the lights outside. They were white lights on this side of the road and red lights. We explained that cars were coming toward us or going away from us.
For supper, I ordered the same for myself as the boys: hamburger and glass of milk. (Later we found out that both were allergic to milk. But how were we to know this in our first hour with the boys?) I took a bite of hamburger, they lifted the burger the same way. Then I put the burger down and drank a little milk. They put their hamburger down and picked up the glass to drink. So it went throughout the entire meal; it was like having two little mirrors opposite me.
Finally, we got to San Barbara to stay overnight. Little did we know at the time but the people in the orphanage told the boys that if they misbehaved, they would be sent back to the orphanage! Well, of all motels in Southern California, this one had a desk manager who was—guess what? Korean. The boys thought that we were taking them back to Korea!!
The next day on our drive back to Monterey, we stopped for lunch. Of all restaurants in the coastal region, we happened to stop at one and the waitress was—guess what? Korean. She came over and immediately demanded (in Korean) why the boys were with us. “They didn’t belong to us.” Ill Hoe grabbed my upper thigh and was squeezing in terror, thinking he was going to be taken away from us.
We made it home later in the afternoon. The boys must have sensed we were home. They immediately began running from room to room, excitedly checking out everything. What a delight! Our boys were ours and they were home!
Over the years we have talked some about their lives in Korea. I think that their the lives so dramatically changed for both, that essentially their memories are mostly of life with us. Except for glimpses that we got from our older son.
The older son had many more memories of Korean (we have been told that the difference in age is critical in terms of memory capabilities). So, as he began acting out ideas (he couldn’t initially speak English), we gathered that there was his mother—and another “woman.” But we couldn’t figure out if she was his mother and grandmother, or mother and aunt or sister.
Within 2-3 months his English was improving so much that we finally discovered that they had a sister (but she was not in the orphanage). We immediately contacted the adoption agency in Korea—to see if there was a sister, whether we could adopt her as well. But they couldn’t give us any information. In the letter the boys received in 2008, there was an 8×11 photo of their mother, sister, and her child. That child and our third grandchild could have been identical twins. We were stunned!
Obviously, our boys don’t look like us. After all, I’m Irish, German and my wife is German, Norwegian, Danish! We have never referred to them as “our adoptive sons.” Rather, they are “our sons.” It is an honor for us, for them, and for their mother.
But some people over the years have made comments about adopting, some very kind, some not so kind, and some degrading to everyone. Sometimes I would be angry, many times really sad. But it was never a case of regret (even in the darkest days).
Adoption for us was an option because we couldn’t procreate. God opened doors for us to have these sons. Their mother in Korea sacrificed and agonized greatly over the decision. But in the end all worked well. The mother was able to raise her daughter, her sons became our sons, and we were all blessed.
Love for a child is love, whether the love of the birth mother or the love of the adoptive parents. And that love never fails. Although the reference in 1 Corinthians is to Body of Christ, it is applicable to adoption:
Love is patient, love is kind.
Love does not envy,
is not boastful, is not conceited,
does not act improperly,
is not selfish, is not provoked,
and does not keep a record of wrongs.
Love finds no joy in unrighteousness
but rejoices in the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
(1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
6 thoughts on “Reflecting on Adoption”
Thanks for sharing your story, Rich. As an adoptee myself I’ve often wondered what my birthmother was going through and thinking at the time she made that difficult decision (I, too, never liked “giving up for adoption” as it always left me with the feeling of not being wanted; I prefer, “made an adoption plan”).
Though I’ve never met my mother as she died in September 14, 1984 (anniversary is tomorrow), two year ago I discovered that I have a half-sister (Leslie) and half-brother (David). We had the joy of meeting June 2012, and have talked and exchanged emails once in awhile. Interestingly enough, they grew up just 30 miles from me. I was especially honored when they attended my Dad’s funeral and committal services, with the latter at the Sacramento National Cemetery. Dave attended in his dress uniform (Air Force), same branch as my Dad.
Adoptees go through their fair-share of challenges, and I don’t suppose that will ever change. Loving parents, like you and Cindy, make a big difference, but the “demons” still linger in one way or another.
Again, thanks for sharing.
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Thanks for your comments, Greg. I know a little of your history. I have another pastor friend who has lived through it as you. But he has met his birth mother, which turned out well.
There is much more that is current in this adoption issue, but I can’t write about it. Maybe some day we can have lunch and talk about it.
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I thank God everyday for being adopted. I thank God that I was given two loving parents to raise and teach me about God and life. I never really knew how grateful I was until after I was in the Army and travelled alot. I went to Third World Countries daily like most people go to grocerie stores. I was able to witness first hand what it would have been like if I had not been given the chance to be adopted. After my wife had 5 children for us, i was even more blessed that I had been adopted.
I remeber when my parents would tell me that time would fly as an adult. They where right. 36 years later and a head full of memories, I could probably write a book of my personal demons i deal with about being adopted. I watched my 3 children grow up and become adults. I always wondered what it would be like to have someone tell me what i was really like when i was just 2 or 3 years old. My youngest daughter is 4 going on 31. She is the boss of the family. My wife says that she acts like me when ever i am not around. She is truly a Daddys Girl. She looks more like me then my wife even. Bless Her Heart. With that I ponder some days as to who I must look more like on my maternal family. As any adoptive Child we all grow up wondering who our parents where and WHY???? WHY us and WHY did our parents not love us enough. I always told myself that my children would be rasied by my wife and me. I couldnt bare the thought of not being able to raise my own child….
I was wrong. Love comes in many ways as I have experinced in life. Through being adopted and experincing the feelings of giving your own loved ones up for adoption. No greater love can be shown then doing what is right and selfless. I have added to my personal demons and burdens by being selfless for my loved ones.
I hope some day that my granddaughter can forgive me giving selfless advice to my daughter.
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Oh, son, you blessed your mother and me in so many ways. And these words touched us deeply especially now. We know a little of the pain and anguish you are going through. I wish that we were not 2,400 miles apart! We would give you and your whole family great big hugs, and hang on for a long time!
We sensed that you always had questions, but it wasn’t something we could force you to talk about; you had to do that in your own time and way. While we can’t answer for your birth mother, we can assure you that we have and always will continue to walk with you through the best and worst.
The depth of agony you are experiencing is balanced by the joy of the adoptive family. We have been on that side of the equation. Our prayer is that eventually the agony will give way to a deep peace. For the child is God’s child. Birth parents and adoptive parents are caretakers for periods of time. How long? We cannot say. But you and the rest of the family have given life, and now the adoptive family is giving life in a different way. And ultimately as you have discovered, it is God who watches over each of us.
Hugs from a great distance, with all our love for you and your whole family. Dad and Mom
Thank you for you words. I am the pastor your dad mentioned, who has met his birth mother, and some of the questions were answered. But that occurred when i was 42 – I know them demons well. People will spin it many ways, and yes we dearly love our adopted parents, yet…..
Where i am from, it is a tradition to visit the cemetery where family is buried on important anniversaries and occasions. I visited mine with my birth mother, and it was a precious time of healing, yet…
it is the closest I have ever come to meeting my grandparents, until we re-unite before the throne of God. To stand there, and here my birthmom talk about how my grandparents considered keeping me, to hear how they struggled with not knowing where, what happened, was incredibly freeing….yet…
There are many of those… yet there is one that matters most, the adoption we share with all – raised by their birth family… or by gracious folks who chose to become our parents….
28 Moreover we know that to those who love God, who are called according to his plan, everything that happens fits into a pattern for good. God, in his foreknowledge, chose them to bear the family likeness of his Son, that he might be the eldest of a family of many brothers. He chose them long ago; when the time came he called them, he made them righteous in his sight, and then lifted them to the splendour of life as his own sons. Romans 8:28 (Phillips NT)
God bless! You are in my prayers
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Over the years I’ve had numerous people ask me if I was ever interested in searching for my biological mother. I’ve always answered no. But if I did ever meet her, I’d thank her. I would thank her for giving me Life, and for giving me the family she knew she could not. I have never faulted her for making that tough decision. I thank God every day that I was “hand chosen”. May you continue to be blessed through your family, Rich.
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