I believe there is something deep in all of us that seeks to find connections with our history. I remember when I attended a semiconductor conference in 2007 I had met a group of professionals that were seated with me during the lunch session. There were easily 5-6 individuals I was having a conversation with and, surprisingly, I was enjoying this professional encounter. I remember there was a Korean man there, probably 15 years or so older than I was who grew up in the same city that my father grew up in. I remember how quickly I gravitated towards confiding in him and how connected I felt to share things about my father and my childhood. Truth be told, I can't tell you exactly why, but there is a sense of connection and history with someone that shares the same cultural upbringing as you, even more so when they share something in common with a family member of yours.
Some years ago when Jennie and I started this journey of adoption we were required to take a trip to Scottsdale, AZ - where our international adoption agency is located. In an earlier post, I told the story of how I could feel the connection to all the couples in the room as we walked into the adoption agency's building (each couple undoubtedly had their own struggles that had brought them to the decision to adopt). One of the things they did during our sessions there was bring in 10 adult adoptees (all Korean born) that our adoption agency helped place into adoptive families. What I may have not stressed enough was the incredibly consistent and innate yearning that all these young adult adoptees had in seeking out their culture, their blood relatives, and their heritage. It was incredible because EVERY single adoptee was matched with a caucasian family and the adoptees themselves could hardly speak Korean at all, but they still felt this urge to discover their history, and chase after some answers regarding themselves. After all, its not like their birth parents or blood relatives were there to fill in the blanks.
Like many of the parents I would be excited to take this endeavor of discovery with our adopted son. And though they did not mention it, I'm sure at some level, the adoptive parents are a little saddened by their child's desire to find their "real" parents. I think it makes me dread even more the day (and it will happen some day) our son yells at us and says "I hate you, you're not even my real parents." Those words will cut very deeply into my heart (and my wife's as well). I mean, I wouldn't even know how to respond? They're just stating a fact.
I think we all root for people, especially children, to be reunited and connected with their birth families. After all, they are not just the people that gave you life, but also the people that hold the answers to so many of the things we tend to be curious about. I think just about everyone and most stories that highlight birth parents (as in various movies and shows) display the heroic efforts and appreciation children have for the birth parents - most of the time as a natural, instinctual response. I also root for those children, even possibly my own adopted son, to find and be reunited their biological parents, especially if it means a happier, more fulfilled, and less empty life. I've never been a parent, but I know what it means to be a child and I can only imagine the confusion and sadness that would run through my head if I would have found out that I was adopted. Even still, I do find myself hoping, praying even, that my son will find some appreciation for my wife and I, and that even if one day he finds his birth mother, Jennie and I will always have a deep place in his heart.
Recently, I found a tiny bit of hope in an unlikely place. A little more than 10 days ago the FIFA World Cup in Brazil began. I've watched just about every game and one player in particular strikes me as brash, yet athletic and deadly: Mario Barwuah Balotelli. He was born in Ghana to parents whom immigrated to Sicily. His parent, struggling financially, were asked by the Italian authorities to place Mario in foster care and eventually those foster parents adopted Mario Balotelli. His parents, still living very close to where he was living with his adoptive parents, became less and less a part of his life as he became indifferent towards them and their choice to give him up for adoption. Later, as he became a solid futbol player for Italy, he dedicated his goals to his adoptive mother and continues to show great devotion and love towards his adoptive family and the country of Italy (the country in which he plays futbol professionally and internationally for).
I'm not sure which scenario I hope for more. I would be lying if I said I didn't wish for his unconditional love or an appreciation for our family that would fill the void he feels which was left by the biological parents whom made the extremely difficult decision to place him in foster care. I know Jennie and I will also have to put all our infertility and dreams of biological children aside as well. I guess in the end, what I wish for most is that both Taeyeongee, Jennie and I are able to support each other in the very different emotional issues that we each struggle with and that we find resolve in the unexpected paths that have caused our lives to intersect. I always picture the scenario that it will be hard for our son, particularly when he gets a little older, to deal with as he looks in the mirror and is a little unsure of himself: facing the world is hard enough, but it must be a LOT harder when you are not sure where your face came from. And while I don't have all the answers or won't always find the right things to say to him, I can assure him of at least one thing: Taeyeongee might not have our eyes, won't have our smile, but one thing he will always have is our hearts. Completely.
