Resilience

I mentioned in some previous posts (and some people have asked) about how emotional it was the day we picked up Ty.  Well, I’m finally getting around to sharing Ty’s adjusted well enough that I am ready to go relive what happened that day and the days to follow.  I should also thank my relentless editor loving husband for his contribution to this post.

In theory, the day Ty physically joined our family should have been one of the happiest of our lives.  In fact, it was quite the opposite. 

As the months turned into a year, I started realizing that Ty was a half a planet away bonding with a foster family…not us.  Oddly enough, my heart was aching for the foster family.  After all, we were moving toward a joyous time when Ty would join our family–forever.  On the other hand, his foster family was preparing for a time of great grief because they were giving him up–forever. 

We were able to spend time with Ty and his foster mother (FM) twice, at Holt, before we picked him up.  Both times, I noticed his FM tearing up from time to time and the reality of what we were about to do began to sink in, bringing me to tears.

Even though I had considered the foster family’s loss, nothing could have prepared me for the day we picked him up.  The smartest thing Patrick and I did was to ask our moms to take the kids out shopping so that we could go to Holt alone.  We figured the kids would be a distraction and I wanted to be fully present for the occasion.  We entered Holt and were met by the FM and her husband.  The Holt social worker (SW) met us in the baby clinic where the exchange took place.  She gave us Ty’s immigration papers and a diaper bag filled with Holt souvenirs (Korean baby shoes and a formal first birthday portrait of Ty and FM), pajamas, diapers, fever medicine, and wipes.  FM added a sippy cup, straw cleaner, and his toothbrush.  We then gifted the foster family with a DC t-shirt for the father, candy and cookies for the brother, and bath stuff for the sister and mother.  Up until this point, I hadn’t gotten a good read on what the FM thought of us…or more importantly… me.  I’m not sure how I would have felt in her position, but I desperately did not want her to see us as the enemy–foreigners taking away a child she loved as her own.  Then, before we took Ty, she offered me a hug that had all of us in tears in front of the nurse, SW, and a number of other babies with their FMs.  It was the best gift she could have given me. In that moment, I felt like we understood each other.  I tearfully thanked her and promised to write and send lots of pictures.  Then, we gathered up our belongings and Ty and walked out of the Holt office with everyone watching.  The foster father followed us out and gave the most heartwrenching farewell that crossed all language barriers as we disappeared down the street. 

Ty did amazingly well on the trip back to the hotel.  He seemed to think he was on some great adventure.  We arrived in the hotel room and began to take off his shoes. In the quiet of our hotel room, at that moment, something clicked in Ty’s head… and the world came to an abrupt halt. Perhaps confusion or perhaps his worst nightmare had come true–two virtual strangers had taken him away from the only mommy and daddy he remembered.  For what seemed like hours, he just tightly wrapped his little arms around Patrick’s neck without a sound. And then, after an unknown amount of time, we finished the job of removing his shoes. He then sobbed… and sobbed… mournfullly he sobbed, grieving tears–crying for “oma” (Korean word for mommy). Patrick and I cried with him.  We had this awful feeling like we had just kidnapped someone else’s child. Questions like “Would his foster family have adopted him if we had not come along?” and “What have we done?” floated through our minds.  We had talked about future adoptions in the past, but on this day, I was sure that I would never do this again. 

Fortunately, children–or at least Ty– are resilient.  We had a huge breakthrough when Ty stopped crying long enough to scarf down play with and occasionally nibble at Patrick’s dinner sandwich and even less frequently allow his new dad to take a bite or two.  Sleep gave us long hours of much needed peace.  Co-sleeping agreed with him and he slept through the first night with us.  For the next days, while we were in Seoul, Ty did great… as long as we were out of the hotel room.  Besides the fact that there was not much to keep a busy 2 year old, well, busy, I think the room reminded him of that awful moment when he realized his life had changed forever.

The plane ride home went amazingly well for all three kids.  Ty’s entrance into our house was nothing less than a whirlwind as he emptied cabinets, drawers, and toy bins.  The best part was that it was not our hotel.  Besides bedtime, he seemed to have left his grieving in Korea.  Each day has presented new challenges as well as great accomplishments.  Ty continues to adjust better than we could have ever imagined.  We are so thankful that the worst of the grieving is over–our hearts couldn’t take much more.  Last night Ty saw pictures of his foster family for the first time since he came with us and showed little recognition (which is sad to me) but they did not upset him as we feared.

God’s faithfulness through this process has been undeniable.  It’s been a privilege to live and breath another spiritual metaphor in real life—-adoption.