I’ve got three: the first one is 13 yrs 7 months older than the second, and the “younger two” are 31 months apart. I love kids and had my situation been different, I would love to have had more.
My eldest doesn’t want any children and neither does the woman in his life, so that is a done deal now. My daughter is the middle child and she finished grad school in 2015 and is headed for a performance career; she doesn’t care much for kids, never has and they really don’t have a place in her life. My younger son is just 21 and embarking upon a great career, so I’ll wait to see what happens in his life!
I certainly know my daughter is by no means perfect. But at that time right after birth when I marveled at her tiny little fingers and toes, her warm fuzzy head in the crook of my neck, and her sweet smell, she was the most perfect thing I ever did in my life. And watching her grow, thrive, make mistakes and learn more, love and live, she seems all the more perfect to me. I am truly blessed as it sounds like you all are too,
We picked up my son from the airport on a cold January night; he was 7 months old. After the 22 hour flight from Korea, he was incredibly compliant-- much as he is 17 years later. He was happy and friendly-- until we tried to put a winter coat on him. (Who knew that he was already wearing 5 or 6 layers??)
But for the next 3 days, he would not let me put him down. He was terrified. So for 3 days, I held him. He was my son; how could I not give him comfort when he was that upset? We slept on the sofa, and I took record-breakingly short showers.
I always say: at that age, “adoption” and “kidnapping” are probably the same thing in their eyes.
Bjkmom, " Kidnapping", I hadn’t thought about that.
My son’s g/f and her twin were also adopted from Korea. Their parents did an outstanding job. I’ve only heard the positive stories, but never what those first few weeks were like.
I know that if I go into a Korean restaurant, the sights, the smells, the cadence of the language are all different. I imagine that must be what it was like for my son for those first few days until he realized that he wasn’t in any danger.
Being a parent has been the best thing ever of many good things in my life. But this week, as I’ve been thinking about the death of a high school classmate of D2, in her early 20s, who died suddenly from a virulent illness while on vacation, I’m focused on that inevitable accompaniment to loving someone: the possibility that at any moment, a flaming arrow could pierce my heart.
My family member adopted a 7-year-old from Taiwan. Initially, it broke their hearts as he’d cry at bedtime, but he has adjusted and is very happy and outgoing. I never knew at the time what a rough patch they all went through.
I have another relative who adopted two kids from Korea. They have both adapted and are doing well–the older one, the D seems to be thriving, while the S continues to evolve.
Children definitely have a special place in the lives of most parents and grandparents. It is an honor and privilege to be s parent and I am grateful for the amazing opportunity.
