This is how it happened:
I was sitting in front of my brand new computer. I'd been sitting there for 10 days. I couldn't fathom what I'd discovered: a photolisting -- a Website filled with photographs of children who needed families. I touched the faces on the screen. I wanted to reach into the computer and comfort every child. I kept hugging myself, trying to assuage the loneliness in front of me.
Until 10 days prior, I had never been online. After years of infertility treatments, my husband and I had gotten to the point where the word NOW was relentlessly flashing in neon across our collective consciousness. Our biological daughter was eight years old, and we wanted a second child. We had decided the best way to research international adoption was online. I stumbled onto message boards. I had no idea of their existence! Suddenly I found myself immersed in other couples' stories. I read about their pain over infertility and of their adoption journeys. I realized we weren't alone! Quietly, I lurked online. I read and read and read, but I did not post. I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning searching. A little voice kept telling me to search. Search for what exactly? I didn't know. But, I felt driven. My husband began to think I was crazy for spending so much time online.
When I found the Website photolisting Precious in His Sight, I knew I would find my child. Before finding the photolistings, the children were in my mind without faces. I can't explain how palpable the sense of contact became when the words were augmented with faces. Finding myself staring into the eyes of child after child, each waiting for their forever family, I felt ashamed for having waited so long to adopt. Though adoption had been a fantasy my husband and I shared since we met in college, we had wanted two biological children first. I believe that in those initial moments of seeing the photolisting my entire life changed, and I became not only a mother searching for her child, but an adoption advocate.
I called my husband at work and excitedly told him of my discovery. That evening we sat down and together pored through the online photos. When we saw our son, a jolt swept through both of us. We will never forget the epiphanous sensation of looking at those first pictures of our son. It seemed as though we were looking into the eyes of an old soul. Love at first sight is real and amazing and can leap continents and computer screens.
Four-and-a-half months later our son, Hunter, was escorted to the Minneapolis/St. Paul terminal. We awoke to a beautiful sunny day. My husband, daughter and I drove to the airport with video camera, camera, diaper bag and, of course, tissues in hand. We were able to see Hunter carried through the terminal by his escort. He peered out from the carrying pack, and we could see he was exhausted. I wanted to run to him and snatch him from his escort's arms, but he had to pass through customs. After a 45-minute wait, the moment had finally arrived. On July 29, 1998 Hunter was placed in my arms. The love that had been growing inside me for all of those months poured out. I looked into the eyes of our son, who was afraid, exhausted and grieving for his foster mother.
The first night with Hunter I awoke to the sound of him at the door of our hotel room. Out of bed, with shoes in hand, he was crying at the door for his foster mother. He was just a year old. My heart broke at the thought of all he was feeling. I spent the next three days with him. We were not apart for a single moment. I reassured him over and over that I was his mamma forever and ever. I had to let him grieve and work through the loss of his foster mother. Little by little, each day, Hunter came out of his shell.
Hunter is three years old today and has been home with us for almost two years. From the grief-stricken and exhausted child has emerged an energetic toddler, full of life and love. We talk often of his journey to us, his foster family and his birth family, and how he is loved by so many. We have become involved in Korean culture, determined to keep this connection alive for our son.
I still look at the photolisting on a daily basis. Often, I bookmark a particular child to track what happens to her, and I feel a rush of relief and then joy when I find that the child has been placed "on hold" and so will soon be with her new family.
