Being Chosen for Adoption

One morning, the caregivers washed us carefully and dressed us in clothes that looked new but did not fit properly. They pinned name tags to our shirts so that officials and escorts could tell us apart and keep our files organized. There was no explanation, no goodbye to the children we had slept beside or eaten with every day.

We were placed in a white van and driven through the streets of Seoul. I watched the city I had always known pass by the window. I did not understand that I was leaving it behind permanently.

When we arrived at the airport, the adoption escort guided us inside. It was loud, bright, and overwhelming. I remember gripping my sister’s hand, trying to keep us together.

On the plane, a flight attendant brought us trays of fruit salad. It was colorful and sweet and unlike anything I had tasted before. At the time, I did not know that this was my first taste of what life in another country would be like.

The long flight made me sick. When we landed in the United States, I threw up all over the woman who would soon become my adoptive mother. It was not the perfect first meeting, but it was real, and it became part of the story we still laugh about today.