I was born in 1980, in South Korea. If you put a map of South Korea in front of me, it would be a challenge for me to locate the city on the map in which I am told I was born in, for I do not know where it even is. It's called Wonju City.
I am a twin to my twin sister. My story from the beginning is exactly that to me, a story, whether it is true to fact, half true, or completely false, I do not know. But this is my story, the one I've been told of my beginnings...
I was originally told this; I was born on April 27, 1980, the elder one to my twin, to an unwed mother, that I later found out at about the age of 13 that she was actually not unwed, she was married and had four older daughters before having my twin sister and I. We've been given her name, my birth father's name, and the names of my four older sisters, all in Korea. My twin sister and I were abandoned shortly after birth, exactly how shortly after birth I have no idea, and probably never will. I am told assumptions about why I and my twin sister were abandoned. We were girls, they probably wanted boys. They were probably extremely impoverished, and we were born into a culture that places much greater value on sons than on daughters, and my birth parents already had four daughters and could not carry the burden of raising two more, two more daughters that would cost them something they did not have and that brought no social security to their family.
We were left in an orphanage, I believe it was called Eastern Child Welfare in Seoul Korea, but how far is that from Wonju City? How would extremely poor parents make a trip to Seoul? How did we end up there? Who took us? Did it cost them money? Did they get paid for their twin babies when they abandoned us? Why? This is a theme in my life..-way more questions than I have answers to, and probably ever will have answers to relating to my first year of life. I have no idea what my family medical history is. I have no idea if cancer or any genetic pre-disposed disease lies hidden within my DNA...no idea.
I am told, we were bounced around from foster homes, and brought back to a hospital due to severe diarrhea and probably dehydration. When we left the hospital, my twin sister and I were separated, and sent off to two different foster homes. We actually were transferred to one more foster home that I'm aware of, but I do not know that for sure. I have reviewed documents from Korea that report I was weak, the weaker of the two twin babies was Young Hee (me). That is all I can recall in the documents from Korea.
April 7, 1981, just 20 days before our first birthday we are put on a plane with an escort and shipped overseas to the United States of America. We arrive at the airport with over 40 people, white people that is, welcoming us to this strange new place called home, to these strange and foreign people called... mom and dad. There are pictures of me in yellow pj's coming off the plane and after being handed over from my escort to my new dad and what was I doing? I was crying. What was my new dad doing? He had a smile that stretched from ear to ear. There was a huge chasm in what I was experiencing in my heart and what he was experiencing in his. This is the beginning of a pattern, a chasm between me and these people called, mom and dad. What was my twin sister doing? She was playing with her new dad's tie and looking around, not crying, not in distress. Only I was, another chasm...what I was experiencing in my heart was very very different than what my twin sister was experiencing in hers, the expression of our faces was completely different. This twin sister in whom I supposedly shared a womb with was now a complete stranger, as my mother (adoptive of course) has explained, we demonstrated no signs of knowing who the other one was. We were separated in Korea, and didn't get re-united until the airplane ride overseas.
Trauma is something new to me. I never knew how it was a part of my story, and I'm still figuring it out. Until very recently I never knew abandonment was still my wound or how deep it went. I never knew attachment to nothingness was either. Until very recently...
We were left in an orphanage, I believe it was called Eastern Child Welfare in Seoul Korea, but how far is that from Wonju City? How would extremely poor parents make a trip to Seoul? How did we end up there? Who took us? Did it cost them money? Did they get paid for their twin babies when they abandoned us? Why? This is a theme in my life..-way more questions than I have answers to, and probably ever will have answers to relating to my first year of life. I have no idea what my family medical history is. I have no idea if cancer or any genetic pre-disposed disease lies hidden within my DNA...no idea.
I am told, we were bounced around from foster homes, and brought back to a hospital due to severe diarrhea and probably dehydration. When we left the hospital, my twin sister and I were separated, and sent off to two different foster homes. We actually were transferred to one more foster home that I'm aware of, but I do not know that for sure. I have reviewed documents from Korea that report I was weak, the weaker of the two twin babies was Young Hee (me). That is all I can recall in the documents from Korea.
April 7, 1981, just 20 days before our first birthday we are put on a plane with an escort and shipped overseas to the United States of America. We arrive at the airport with over 40 people, white people that is, welcoming us to this strange new place called home, to these strange and foreign people called... mom and dad. There are pictures of me in yellow pj's coming off the plane and after being handed over from my escort to my new dad and what was I doing? I was crying. What was my new dad doing? He had a smile that stretched from ear to ear. There was a huge chasm in what I was experiencing in my heart and what he was experiencing in his. This is the beginning of a pattern, a chasm between me and these people called, mom and dad. What was my twin sister doing? She was playing with her new dad's tie and looking around, not crying, not in distress. Only I was, another chasm...what I was experiencing in my heart was very very different than what my twin sister was experiencing in hers, the expression of our faces was completely different. This twin sister in whom I supposedly shared a womb with was now a complete stranger, as my mother (adoptive of course) has explained, we demonstrated no signs of knowing who the other one was. We were separated in Korea, and didn't get re-united until the airplane ride overseas.
Trauma is something new to me. I never knew how it was a part of my story, and I'm still figuring it out. Until very recently I never knew abandonment was still my wound or how deep it went. I never knew attachment to nothingness was either. Until very recently...
Whether it is true, false or half true, it is my story I've been given...and just how factual or fictitious it is, I will most likely never know this side of heaven.
I never knew this had any significant effect on my life until a couple years ago I was participating in a group at church called, Christ-life. The first writing assignment was to write with my non-dominant hand from that infant, to the person I was then, an adult. To make a connection. I wrote that letter, full of questions to the adult...the whole letter was basically questions..questions that have still to this day never been answered. I wrote it and felt no emotions while writing the letter. I was completely shocked at what came out when I was to go first in my group and read the letter to about 4 other people, complete strangers. I opened up my letter from this infant...and could not stop weeping, gasping for air, and trying to maintain my composure so I could at least start reading the first word on the page. And that was the first indication to me that there is something in me, a deep wound, a DEEP WOUND, from being traumatized in my earliest days, and having no attachment to a parent or caregiver to feel safe with. It's a tragic feeling, a helpless infant who is completely dependent on her caregivers who is being abandoned repeatedly, with no anchor, no relationship to attach to, no grounding, no voice to express the loss and pain, no words, no noticing by others...and then shifted to a foreign place called home, and no attachment there, with no connection of the pain...a huge chasm is felt and she goes into hiding. For she was a very sensitive baby, a hurting lost baby, with no voice, and no person noticing, she learned to build up a wall from the beginning and go into hiding to protect that sensitive vulnerable soul..and the only way to do that was to go into hiding and when provoked, to come out in anger, then to go back into hiding. Until one day...she was captivated by her Creator, her Maker, the One who had seen it all..and been there all along, and was now revealing Himself to her, and continues to do so, and a part of that doing so, is in revealing a part of her story that's been lost, been buried in her soul, her sensitive soul, and recovering and reclaiming what the enemy has stolen, and taking it back in victory.
I never knew this had any significant effect on my life until a couple years ago I was participating in a group at church called, Christ-life. The first writing assignment was to write with my non-dominant hand from that infant, to the person I was then, an adult. To make a connection. I wrote that letter, full of questions to the adult...the whole letter was basically questions..questions that have still to this day never been answered. I wrote it and felt no emotions while writing the letter. I was completely shocked at what came out when I was to go first in my group and read the letter to about 4 other people, complete strangers. I opened up my letter from this infant...and could not stop weeping, gasping for air, and trying to maintain my composure so I could at least start reading the first word on the page. And that was the first indication to me that there is something in me, a deep wound, a DEEP WOUND, from being traumatized in my earliest days, and having no attachment to a parent or caregiver to feel safe with. It's a tragic feeling, a helpless infant who is completely dependent on her caregivers who is being abandoned repeatedly, with no anchor, no relationship to attach to, no grounding, no voice to express the loss and pain, no words, no noticing by others...and then shifted to a foreign place called home, and no attachment there, with no connection of the pain...a huge chasm is felt and she goes into hiding. For she was a very sensitive baby, a hurting lost baby, with no voice, and no person noticing, she learned to build up a wall from the beginning and go into hiding to protect that sensitive vulnerable soul..and the only way to do that was to go into hiding and when provoked, to come out in anger, then to go back into hiding. Until one day...she was captivated by her Creator, her Maker, the One who had seen it all..and been there all along, and was now revealing Himself to her, and continues to do so, and a part of that doing so, is in revealing a part of her story that's been lost, been buried in her soul, her sensitive soul, and recovering and reclaiming what the enemy has stolen, and taking it back in victory.
For those who have been touched by adoption, and never could realize what exactly is this nawing pain in your child or loved one that was adopted, perhaps their voice can identify somewhat with mine..or perhaps not, only they can find their voice in the their story...hopefully this could somehow help them...
Thank You to my Redeemer, the Lord Jesus Christ, who works to bring things from ashes to beauty..there is truly none like You.
Thank You to my Redeemer, the Lord Jesus Christ, who works to bring things from ashes to beauty..there is truly none like You.
