Sara's Adoption Story

For regular blog updates, please visit www.asisterforsara.blogspot.com.

This is the story or Sara's adoption.  It's a bit longer than a typical blog post, so rather than posting it on our regular blog, www.asisterforsara.blogspot.com, I've set up this separate blog site to serve as a stand-alone adoption story.  I will not continue to post to this blog, but will keep the link for this blog on my main blog page, so that anyone who would like to read about our first adoption can do that at any time. 

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We first began talking about adopting when our Jacob was 1.  We knew we wanted to adopt ‘some day’, but we didn’t feel like it was time for that just yet.  Our house was 1,140 square feet, and we were bursting at the seams with just the four of us there already.  Eventually, we moved into a more comfortable house, but along with a bigger house came a bigger house payment, meaning we couldn’t afford adoption fees.  More than a year passed.  One night, John and I finally had a talk about it.  We both felt like we had wanted to adopt for several years, but that God alone is the author of our family, and if He wanted us to be able to adopt, then He would have provided us a way.  First we didn’t have room, then we didn’t have the money, Aaron was seven years old, and Jacob was almost four.  The older the boys got, we reasoned, the bigger the age difference would be between them and our third child.  (We wanted a baby at that time.)  Our two boys were so joyful and were growing into such wonderful little people; we thought maybe our family was complete after all.  So we had a good talk, came to peace with it, and went to bed.  The next morning, John called me to tell me that God had provided a way!  His job was changing, and he had gotten a raise that would pay a monthly payment on a loan to fund the adoption.  God had given us a big green light, and we went!

Two of the hardest decisions were choosing where to adopt from, and whether to adopt a boy or a girl.  After lots of praying and considering all the possibilities (and there are a lot!), we decided on adopting a little girl from South Korea.  We applied in the beginning of September, 2001, and our application was accepted.  We were on the road to having a daughter!  The wonderful people at Heaven Sent Children helped us down our path.  At the beginning of the journey, we attended an international adoption workshop at the agency, where we played a group board game that was designed to be true to life for adoptive parents on their way to bringing home their children.  All the couples took turns drawing cards, trying to get their pawns all the way around the board to their adopted child.  There were cards that said things like “There was a problem with your paperwork; go back three spaces,” and “There is a complication with your home study; skip one turn and wait.”  But all of mine and John’s cards said things like “Things are running ahead of schedule; move forward two weeks.”  The social workers and other adopted couples all laughed with us when we had finished the game, and had our (pretend) adopted child in three or four short turns, then we sat and watched the rest of them finish the game.  Little did we know just how true to live that game was!  We brought Sara home on February 28, 2002, when she was 5 ½ months old.   Her adoption took almost exactly six months, from start to finish.  

At the time we applied with the agency to adopt, we felt so very led to adopt.  We couldn’t even explain why, but John and I knew that we understood each other, and we both felt the same way.  I felt so strongly drawn to adopt that I felt that God was telling me I had a daughter, and she was on the other side of the world, and I needed to bring her home.  I later realized that we turned our application into the agency about two weeks before Sara was born.  God was indeed telling us we had a daughter.  And we could hardly wait to meet her!

The waiting was difficult.  I know; I sound spoiled rotten!  If you’ve known anyone else who’s ever adopted, you know it usually takes much more than six short months!  We know couples who’ve waited for years to bring home their adopted children, and I had a hard time waiting six months?!  

Her referral came less than two months after we applied.  It was one day in November when I got a call from Stephanie, from the agency.  I thought she’d called to tell me something about our paperwork, but she said “It’s a girl!!”  I think I might’ve actually said “What’s a girl?  You’re not actually talking about our baby, are you?”  It was much sooner than I’d expected!  Stephanie said she was holding her pictures in her hand, and she was beautiful, healthy, and at the time, she was two months old.  I was instantly dying to see her!  We made an appointment to go meet with them at the very soonest opportunity.  

John says that as soon as he saw her picture, and knew she was healthy, he knew she was ours.  I never jump into anything head-first without looking, so I wanted to see her paperwork and know her history first.  Her Korean name was Young Ran.  We learned about her birth parents, and the place where she was growing up so far, under the care of two kind and loving foster parents.  Sara looked peaceful in her pictures, with big, chubby cheeks, and her black, peach-fuzz hair stood straight up on end.  I was sure the foster parents must have made her hair stand up like that on purpose, it was so pronounced.  (I later learned that it stood straight up on its own.) Here is one of her referral pictures  They gave us five pictures with her referral, then later sent a few more.

We read every detail the agency had about her, and they were very forthcoming with what they did (and didn’t) know.  Sara had been listed as having a mild special need because she was slightly below average birth weight when she was born.  You can see from her photo that was no longer an issue, at two months old!  They did very thorough medical exams, and even did check-ups and bloodwork on her birth mother, and included all the information they had in her referral.  They also included her foster parents' comments about her personality, how she slept, and how much and how often she ate.  She was a healthy and happy baby!  But they wanted to be sure we knew everything we could know, so that we could make an informed decision, so we were encouraged to think and pray about it.  We had an opportunity to turn down the referral and request a different one, if we didn’t feel that this was our perfect match, but by the end of the meeting, we both knew this was our daughter.

Then the real wait began!  We decided on her name—Sara Young, keeping her Korean name as her middle name.  Choosing a name took some time.  That was good.  We rearranged the house just a bit, so she could have a bedroom to herself.  We painted it light purple with little orange butterflies here and there, framing the door of her bedroom and the closet doors as well.  I shopped for baby girl clothes.  I kept her pictures in my night stand, and every night (and every day) I looked at those pictures; we thought of our Sara, prayed for her, prayed for her foster parents, prayed for her birth parents, thanked God for them all, and we waited.  

So many thoughts went through our minds!  We wondered what Sara would look like in person, and what she would look like when she got older.  We wondered what kinds of foods she would like, and what her friends would be like as she got older.  We wondered who she would date, and if it would matter to her peers and their parents that she didn't look the same as everybody else, and if it ever would bother her to be the only dark-haired person in the family (until we adopt her sister, anyway).  We wondered where she was and what she was doing at any given time, and what her foster parents might be like.  And we prayed for her every day.  I found myself longing to see my daughter.  (We already saw her as ours.)  I missed her before I ever met her.

When she was about 4 months old, we got a letter in the mail stating that Sara (she was then known to them as Young Ran) had gotten bronchitis, and was put in the hospital for a few days to make sure she got over her infection healthfully.  That time was particularly difficult for me because I felt like one of my children was in the hospital, and I couldn’t go to see her.  For a brief moment (of temporary insanity?) I considered getting a plane ticket to go see her in South Korea, as if that’s just something I could hop on a plane and do.  Of course then I’d have to leave her, and come back home and wait until the paperwork was done, so I knew that wasn’t an option!  But still, I wanted to physically see her.  I wanted to hold her, or at least touch her, and observe my little girl the way a mother pays attention to her baby, and see for myself that she was okay.  I told the boys a bit of how I felt—how I loved her already, and it bothered me to know she was sick and in the hospital and we couldn’t go check on her, and they wondered how I could love her already, and feel like she was our family when we hadn’t even met her in person yet (which was all very age-appropriate for kids.)  I suppose it’s like trying to explain how a mother can love a child who’s still in the womb.  You just do.  Two weeks went by, and we hadn’t heard anything, and I was getting really worried!  Finally, our social worker contacted the agency in Korea, and found out she had only been hospitalized a few days, and had been released to her foster parents again and was doing fine.  WHEW!  Okay, I was frustrated that no one had told us here on this side of the planet that our little girl was alright, but I was relieved, just the same.

Thanksgiving and Christmas went by, and while I still missed Sara, I knew this would be the only holiday season we would have to spend without her (at least until she’s an adult, anyway).  That comforted me.  I think it comforted John, too, but I also think he was more patient than I was.  On February 28, 2002, we flew from the Nashville airport up to Michigan to pick her up.  

Sara and two other Korean adoptees were to be flown from South Korea to Japan, then from Japan to Michigan, where we were to accept her from the Korean escort who cared for her, and then we’d fly with her back to Nashville and bring her home.  When it was time for everyone to come off the plane from South Korea, there was some sort of delay.  The plane had landed, and we knew things were fine, but people were not coming out.  It felt like an hour passed, but it was probably more like 30 minutes, waiting for the passengers to finally start trickling out.  We chatted with the other two pairs of parents who were waiting for their little Korean boys to come off the plane.  And I had a lot of time to think while we waited.  I thought about how the adoption process reminded me a lot of being pregnant, knowing the baby is on the way, preparing the family and the house for her arrival, and waiting for months for her to get here.  Being at the airport was like being in the hospital, knowing the baby would be there soon, but not knowing exactly how soon we’d finally see her in person.  The parallels with adoption and having biological children were many, and that surprised me.  And then, finally, she came.  

All six expectant parents (and our greeter) perked up significantly when one petite Asian woman came off the plane with a baby strapped in a little blue carrier on her chest.  John and I hung back a little, and the other two couples went forward to see better; I think all of us thought it was a boy at first because her carrier was blue, and we couldn’t see well.  The other couples didn’t seem to recognize her precious face; she looked nothing like the pictures of their little boys they’d gotten with their referrals.  Then the escort read Sara’s identification bracelet, and looked up expectantly, saying “Young Ran?” 

“That’s her,” I poked John. 

“What?” he answered.  He must’ve thought he’d heard me wrong. 

“Honey, that’s her!” I whispered.  “That’s our baby!”  

The other couples quickly understood, and stepped back so we could come forward to see her better.  She was beautiful.  She was completely asleep, with her hair standing straight up, just like her pictures, her chubby little cheek resting on her escort, unaware that her parents were seeing her beautiful face for the first time.  The escort gently slipped off the carrier, and helped me put it on, while Sara never woke up.  

 It was noon in Michigan, but in Korea, it was time to sleep, and Sara knew it.  

  We were lucky that her escort spoke English.  She told us that Sara had been a very good baby on her journey home.  She said she drank her bottles on the plane, and she did not fuss or cry.  The tears in her eyes matched my own.   I told her “thank you,” but the words weren’t big enough.  I wished I could tell her foster parents thank you, and her birth mother as well, and anyone else who helped her on the road home to us, but this was all I could do at the time.  We took a picture with her escort, 

as Sara still slept on, 

and then we sat down in the airport to begin getting to know our daughter.  

 

First of all, we wanted to see her eyes, and we wanted her to see us!  She was warm, snuggly, and all bundled up in three thin layers of clothing, a jacket, a baby scarf, plus the carrier and a blanket.  With all that, we thought she might not wake up for hours!  (It was very cold in Michigan that day—in the low 20’s.  It must have been cold in Korea, as well.)  So we took her carrier off, peeled off a couple of outer layers of clothing, and sat her on my lap.  Once she did finally awaken just a bit, she opened her eyes, looked back and forth at the both of us, and smiled at us right away.  In my mind, her expression said “Hey, it’s you guys, finally!  I’ve been waiting for you!”  

She smiled and babbled to us for a while, touched our faces and smiled some more, as if she was familiar with us already.  And very soon, she fell back to sleep.  We were overjoyed!  

We waited to see the other couples’ babies come off the plane.  The next baby came into view strapped to his escort in a blue carrier just like Sara’s.  I thought that must be pretty routine.  Our greeter from the agency in Michigan, along with the child’s adoptive parents, asked the escort about this beautiful boy.  “Ya!” the escort exclaimed.  The new parents asked her when he’d last eaten, to which the escort nodded enthusiastically, smiling “Ya!  He sleep!”  We all smiled and nodded to each other with understanding, and I was so thankful, once again, that Sara’s escort spoke English, and she could tell me even a small bit about her journey on the plane.  Then we brought our daughter home.  

          The next few months went by quickly, and relatively smoothly.  From the moment Sara laid eyes on her brothers, she adored them, and the feeling was definitely mutual.  The boys played with Sara, and I think they loved her right away, but for them it seemed to grow stronger as they got to know her more.  Children’s hearts and minds are very open, though, so it was easy for them to love their sister.  They both were very curious about Sara.  Aaron wanted to hug and kiss her right away, just like he did any family member.  Jacob played with her, and he was charmed by our sweet Sara, but being the neat nick he is, he hesitated to give her kisses at first because she tended to lick things out of curiosity (as most 6-month-old babies do), and he thought she might get him slobbery.  That wore off in a few weeks though, and then he gave the whole family hugs and kisses at bedtime, just like always.  Sara was such a happy baby, and had so much love to give, already.   

I had expected to feel nothing more than joy and elation when my daughter finally was home.  Of course, I did feel that, but there was something else that bothered me just a little bit.  Something made me feel kind of sad at times, and I could not place my finger on why.  I have read about, and heard about, post-adoption depression, which apparently is much like post-partum depression, but I really did not think that I was experiencing anything like that.  I was overjoyed to have my little girl home…so why the sadness?  After thinking and praying a lot about it for the first week or so Sara was here, one day it finally dawned on me.  I saw this perfectly healthy, happy, and loving little girl, and I thought it would be a shame for anyone in the world to miss out on the opportunity to see her grow up.  I was sad for her loss of her birth parents, and for their loss of her as well.  She was such a good baby, and such a beautiful l little girl!  And there were two people in the world who helped God to bring her here, and would likely never get to see her face, and see how wonderful she is; and she would never know them.  We knew their story, and why they decided what they did for Sara, and were grateful that we had her, but still felt some sadness for their loss, and for hers.  I had not expected feeling anything like this, but for a couple of weeks, in the midst of our happiness and joy, I mourned the loss of my daughter’s birth parents for her.  

 It took about two weeks for Sara to understand that daytime and nightitme here is the reverse of what it was in South Korea.  Before she had transitioned, she would sleep soundly through anything...during the day.  We could turn on music, move her around, take her out into the sunshine, and Sara slept on!

But it really didn't take long, considering it was the opposite of what she was used to.  Even after the first two weeks, she still took two naps a day for a couple of months.  I think her body still thought it was nighttime.  But overall, her adjustment went extremely well!  She was cheerful and loving from the beginning, and loved playing with her brothers and her toys.

We even got her hair to lay down a bit!

...sometimes.

But it got more manageable as she got a bit older.  

Sara's never stopped being a very loving little girl.  Now she's five years old, and sleeps alone in her bedroom with butterflies and flowers on the wall.  Her room also holds her toy kitchen set, some dress-up clothes, and a toy box full of dolls like any other little girl.  Of course I'm completely unbiased, but she is absolutely adorable!  

She loves to play with her brothers, and wants to do everything they do, but also wants to play house and pretend, and she loves to give me makeovers.  (The boys will play house with her once in a while, but they draw a definite line at makeovers!)  She adores her cousins, grandparents, and all her family, and loves to play with other little girls too.  She's very artistic, and draws pictures literally every day of her life.  She figures out familiar melodies on the piano, and really enjoys doing schoolwork, like learning to read and writing her letters and numbers.  And just recently, when John and I had been talking more seriously about adopting another little girl, Sara came ot me one night before bed.  She told me that sometimes she feels sad at night, because everyone else in the family has someone to share a room with, and she wished she had a sister.  She wished there was another little girl in the house to play "girl stuff" with, and she wanted to know if we could "adopt another little girl for a sister."  We hadn't discussed another adoption with the kids just yet, so I wasn't sure what to say, but I gave her some hugs, and told her I was sorry she felt lonely.  We decided we would pray about that together, and if God wants us to be able to adopt another daughter, then He will help us find a way.  I believe He is doing that now.  Now we're still praying and planning, so that whenever the time is right, we will add another member to our family, and Sara will have a sister, and her sister can have a family. 

For regular updates, please visit www.asisterforsara.blogspot.com.