Monday, February 21, 2011

"Gotcha" Day....

We "got" Kate on November 26th, 2009. Her "gotcha" day. More like the day we kidnapped her, if you want the truth....

This was truly one of the best/scariest/emotionally charged days of my life! We arrived at the agency in the afternoon and were escorted into what I can best describe a the lobby. There were a bunch of foster parents with their babies waiting to see the doctor. They were squirming and wiggling and babbling; I wanted to take each of them! Our foster mom had not arrived yet and we were left to make small talk with our social worker about this and that. I remember being so quiet, so unlike myself, so introspective about what was occurring. I whole heartedly believe that adoption is an amazing process. Being allowed to parent my girl is huge responsibility, one I do not take lightly. It is awesome to me that a Mom can love her baby so much that she forsakes her own happiness to give her child more, not necessarily better, but more. I don't think I could do it. But I am so lucky that she could.

When our FM arrived with Kate, she was already crying. I thought I would cry, too, but I didn't. I simply couldn't. I put my arms around her and gave her what I could which amounted to some incoherent mumbles and a few pats on the back. I admire her strength. Her commitment to raising babies and then handing them over to strangers, trusting that they will be cared for in the same way that she had cared for them. We made small talk and I really have no idea what else because all I could focus on was the fact that this was really going to happen. The moment came when there was nothing left to do but do it. FM handed over the baby that she had nurtured for 16 months. And than she wailed. I have never heard a more soulful sound, ever. It came from the depths of her. She could not let go. She would not let go. I clung to her and she to me with Kate all smooshed in the middle. Finally, the social worker ordered me to just go. I stared at her for a moment and then turned and left the building. Kate was screaming bloody murder, I was red-faced and sweating and FM chased me. I didn't know what to do, so I stood there, letting her grab atKate until Brian and the social worker pushed us away. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do; just walk away. I could hear her pleas and cries from down the street. Awful.

As we walked back to our room with our new, screaming toddler, I cried. People stared. I cried more. Kate pushed against me to try and get away. She did not want to be in my arms. Brian tried to take her and she clawed at me to keep holding her, choosing the best of two bad options in her little mind. We got back and went upstairs and tried to give her a bottle. She cried herself to sleep snuggled close to me, in my arms, where it must have felt like the closest thing to her Halmoni that she could get. Poor, sad baby.

When she woke a few hours later, she just watched us. She let me hold her and murmured "mama" over and over again - the Korean word for eat. I fed her and she peered at us with these beautiful almond colored eyes and then....she smiled. And we smiled back. Our journey as a family had begun....


  1. This just makes me want to cry. Because I can imagine what foster moms feel and again what I will feel. What you felt. I question myself if I can do it? I will do it god willing. But im already feeling so many things and afraid of the unknown. I love reading and hearing your experience. Again thanks for sharing.

  2. Oh, did not expect a lump in my throat before dinner.

    This is wonderful.

    Thank you