When I was in Korea, I had this fantasy where upon taking custody of my son we don’t return to America. Instead, we stay and live in Korea. In this perfect world my son gets to visit his foster mother anytime he likes and is able to retain his language and culture. I become fluent in Korean, travel to Jeju Island, and together we eat copious amounts of kimchi and mandu. I know this fantasy is partly created from experiencing reverse culture shock, but mostly because I want to protect him from the inevitable grief and losses he will experience because of his adoption.
It’s been only two short months since I’ve become a parent, but what I’ve quickly learned is that parenting is hard, really hard work. I also know that parenting can reveal my best and worst self. My worst self was truly evident the second week upon arriving home. My son was experiencing intense separation anxiety where he was completely inconsolable if I walked into the next room without him. There were days when the constant whining felt like a permanent soundtrack and all I wanted to do was shut the door and cry. On these particular days I realized my only choice was to survive, wake up, and do it all over again.
Now after being home for nearly seven weeks, parenting has become a little kinder. I’m learning how to better predict the rhythms and patterns of my son. He appears to be bonding well and has begun to form a healthy attachment towards me. Unlike before, he can now look at his foster mother’s picture without crying omma and running to the door. He trusts me more each day by letting me leave the room without him. He is starting to understand that when I leave-I will always return. This is permanent. He is my forever family.