Day 6: The hardest day, file review and visiting the orphanage

Day 6
Friday June 20th

This was the day I was waiting for. This was the day of my birth file review. 
This was the day that was responsible for 80% of my anxiety surrounding this trip.

I'll start by telling you what I know (I went over it briefly in a previous post). The story that was told to me since I was a baby.

My mother's name was Park Hak-Ja. She was 22 years old and grew up in Boseong-gun (which, my host family told me, is an area of Korea that grows tea). My father and mother went to high school together. Her father died when she was in middle school and she had 2 brothers she helped take care of. She moved to Busan and lived with my father before he joined the military. She didn't realize she was pregnant until she was 7 months along due to menstrual irregularity. Without finincial ability, she gave me up for adoption.

Birth Mother: 160 cm tall, average build, white skin, oval face, big eyes, high nose, introverted, decisive, strong willed and responsible.
Birth Father: 172 cm tall, average build, olive skin, round face, big features, good looking, cheerful, and sociable.

After being released into the care of SWS (Social Welfare Society), at a week old I was moved to from Busan to Seoul. I stayed in the orphanage until I was 3 months old due to being failure to thrive. I was with a foster home for 1 month before coming to the US.

These were photos that I had: Left- 1 month old, Right-3 months old. 

Before our birth file review, we took a cooking class. We made bibimbap and bulgogi. I couldn't eat because I was nervous about the file review. 

One other boy from my group was adopted through SWS. We went to the agency together and were accompanied by 2 Korean men from our group and one former Journey member. 

We were greeted by 2 young women who were social workers. We went into separate rooms to review our files. The woman said that she was there to answer any questions I had. 

Inside the folder were letters from my mom (in the US) about my development and transition to living at home in New York and the paper work I already had in English. There was a small envelope of photos. My heart raced in hope that there would be a photo of my mother. There were no photos of my mother but there were photos of myself that I had never seen before. 

Again, Left: 1 month old, Right: 3-4 months old (my passport photos)

I didn't realize how much I had hoped for a photo of my mother until I was at the agency and found out there wasn't one. It's funny how that works. If you would have asked me, "Do you think there is a photo of your mother in your birth file?" I probably would have answered, "No, that's unlikely." But in reality, I was holding a little candle that it was in there- hoping that there was something in there that I didn't know that helped fill in my story.

I asked the woman for my paper work in Korean. She replied that it is the same as my paperwork in English. I asked her to bring the copies of the Korean paperwork. She said again, "They are just notes. Notes to be translated into English." I told her I understood that but I still wanted them. She left the room and came back with photo copies of the paperwork for me to take home. 

Immediately I saw differences between the two papers. 

See: Left: All Unknown, Right: Information with a giant X

The information under the giant X is nothing crucial. It says my father's age, his place of birth, his occupation and how many siblings he has- but it's something. It makes him more human. It also confirms some information from the birth interview with my mother. 

I made sure that my birth date was my birth date. I was born in the maternity clinic that my mother had given me up for adoption at. The woman informed me that Maternity Clinics are a thing of the past. They aren't open now but were common back then. At that point I realized, SWS was the middle man. My mother was at a maternity clinic, gave birth and gave me up for adoption, then I went to SWS's orphanage. Even if my mother had left anything for me- a photo, a letter- it wouldn't make sense to push SWS for it. The maternity clinic is gone so I can't go back to there to look for more information- what SWS has is what they have.

I didn't waste my time having her translate the rest. She was only going to tell me things she wanted me know anyways. I took the copies of the paperwork so I can have someone I trust translate them for me. 

(Later on on the trip, I had our translator read me the birth interview with my mother. It was an almost direct translation of the English version so that made me feel at ease.) 

After the birth file review, the social worker took me and my group mate to the orphanage. We couldn't hold the babies. We could only look. 

This was the hardest part. There were 2 rooms. One for small babies and one for older babies...maybe up to 6-12 months. 

For the small babies, newborn to 3 months- all the babies, maybe 10, were swaddled. 2 women were in the room looking after them. They were either lying in their bed, which was like a shallow plastic box (like you see newborns in at the hospital) or in a swing. A woman would pick one up for less than 5 minutes and put them back down. Even while they were being fed, the babies lay on their back with their bottle being propped up by a towel. 

For the older babies, it was a series of cribs, again, maybe 10-15, and a wall of swings. There were 4 people moving about the room. Some babies in swings but most babies sitting or standing in their crib. The room had one window that was heavily frosted over so you couldn't see out.

I asked the social worker, "Is there another room? A play room? Where the babies can move around?"

She answered, "No. Only these two rooms. Sometimes the volunteers take them outside, around the block, but not everyday." This killed me. 

Having been a nanny for so long, I have worked with babies as young as 2 months old. I hold them, sing to them, take them on long walks, talk to them, even though they can't crawl or roll- they're arms and legs are free to move, they have tummy time to strengthen their muscles. To imagine these babies, to imagine myself for 3 months, without sunlight, without constant attention and love, was too much to take in. 

Josh, the former Journey member who accompanied me on the trip, was so kind. He told me how he's volunteered at the orphanages on past trips and we talked about the hope that these babies have for a better life that awaits them. I couldn't stay in the orphanage for too long. We all left and walked around the streets for a bit to clear our minds. 

It was a tough day. That night we all came back together and had a feast of galbi and pork. I was glad to return to the group. You could see in everyone's faces- we were emotionally exhausted. We all got a little bit more information than we had before- some through text, some through photos. No one had any big shock or revelation. We all looked forward to moving on.