I Wish For You A Beautiful Life

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There is a social stigma in Korea that if you are unwed and pregnant it brings shame and embarrassment to the birth mother, her child, and her immediate and extended families. Koreans follow a traditional Confucian family bond with a strong male centered lineage. When a child has no legal father, both the birth mother and child face social discrimination throughout their lives. Single mothers risk losing family ties, financial security, and even future job prospects. Due to this social pressure, it’s no wonder that unwed mothers feel like they have no other choice than abortion or adoption.

Ae Ran Won is a home that supports unwed mothers in Seoul, South Korea. This is a place where birth mothers can live while they decide on a birth plan. The majority of   mothers who arrive at Ae Ran Won choose adoption for their babies and each are asked to write a letter to her child. Most of these letters are filled with intimate feelings of guilt and loss, but also contain beautiful messages of hope and love.

This one letter in particular especially resonated with me because I understand that my son’s birth mother did an incredible selfless act when she chose adoption. Because of her decision, she and I are connected with the burden of love we carry for our beautiful sweet boy.

Letter excerpt from I Wish For You a Beautiful Life

To my adorable baby,

When you were first born, your mother was extremely happy. Your eyes were wide open, like two clear lakes. I remember vividly how when I hugged you, you yawned in my arms. My loving child, I wonder what you are doing right now. I am sorry that I can not be next to you. It has been almost a month since you were born. I hope you will understand why I had to give you up. My heart aches that I can not live with you, but wherever you are and whatever you do, I hope you will live your life to the best of your ability. I also hope you will develop your strengths and use your abilities, so that people will be proud of you. Live courageously. I will also try to live my life the best way that I can so that I may be a role model to you, if only in spirit. If we do meet again in the future, I hope we will not be disappointed by each other. Even though I had you in my arms for only a short while, I thought of many things. Would you be hurt because of my irresponsibility? Would you be able to find good adoptive parents? Would you truly be a well-adjusted person? Many questions and thoughts have burdened my heart about this situation. I took these thoughts and considerations into my heart as I chose your name. Your name means big and bright. My hope is that you will live up to your name, and shine brightly over a vast area. We are not apart. Know that your spirit is within my spirit and that even if we are not in the same place, our spirits are together. As we live our different lives and things get too tough, let us each look up at the stars and talk to each other. I will always pray for you. Let us live our lives to the best of our abilities.

Good-bye, my loving child.

Han 한

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“Why did my real mother give me away? Who is my birth mother? Why did you adopt me?” I know that I can’t necessarily predict the day when my son will ask, but I know it will come. Do I wait until he first asks the questions or do I tell him from the beginning that he’s adopted? Is there a right or wrong time to begin this ongoing conversation?

As an adoptee, adoption is a relatively easy and straightforward topic for me to discuss. I’d like to think that I can be open and honest with my son about his adoption. Why would I wait for him to ask me why he was adopted? I don’t want him to feel ashamed because he’s adopted or think that his life before me was a secret. My hope for him is that he feels proud of who he is and how he joined our family.

I understand there is a possibility that no matter how transparent I am with my son about his adoption story, he may still grieve for the life he could’ve had instead and resent me for adopting him. In spite of all the wonderful excitement and immense joy that surrounds his adoption, there are those small quiet moments where my thoughts drift to the Korean word Han. Han has no English equivalent. It is a concept that means a sorrow caused by heavy suffering or a dull lingering ache in the soul. I know that suffering is a certainty in life. However, I’d like to believe that my son won’t experience any pain during his lifetime because he was adopted, but the truth is; he probably will. The Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh has a beautiful quote about the paradox of suffering. He says, “To suffer is not enough. We must also be in touch with the wonders of life.”