by Mindy Aguon, KUAM News Thursday, October 21, 2004 Subscribe to Mindy's newsfeed   E-mail this article Printable version KUAM Toolbar Web Widgets Get RSS headlines

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While I pondered questions in my mind about whether a woman in a black dress I had just passed was my birthmother while touring the streets of Korea, my adopted parents, Steve and Christina Fothergill and I continued walking in search of the Holt Foundation, the location of my reunion with the woman who gave birth to me twenty-one years ago. After some more walking we found Yang Hye Sun, my post-adoption services worker who had been instrumental in making the reunion possible.

I introduced myself for the first time in person, and those who I tapped to join me on my trip. "Hi Yang. This is my mom, my dad, my boyfriend [John Patrick], and this is my cameraman [Carlito]," I said to her. Yang took us into a small room. A box of tissues in the middle of the table was a sign of what was to come. The months of waiting and the years of wondering and suppressing my emotions and doubts were all coming to a close. Sitting in the tiny meeting room in Seoul, my mind was filled with questions and anxiety.

This was it - it was finally happening.

After I signed the Holt guestbook, my curiosity was killing me inside. I needed answers, and before I knew it I was blurting out my questions. "So how did you find her? What did she say when you talked to her?" I shot off in rapid succession to my new friend, each of which she answered calmly. She said my birthmother was contacted by records Holt kept over the years, and that she was glad her long-lost daughter showed an interest in finding and reconnecting with her.

Hearing this, my eyes welled up with tears. I wasn't sure I was ready for what was coming next. Through the door I could see two figures waiting to come inside. This was it - the moment I was waiting for. And despite all my mental preparation, trying to get ready for this moment, it was here. The reunion.

I sat in the chair accompanied by my mom and dad and my boyfriend, being filmed by my videographer, and was overwhelmed with emotion. After so many years I was going to be reunited with my birthfamily. I held back as many tears as I could, but they were coming like a flood. Yang gave me some time to take in all that was happening and left the room. My dad about said of Yang and her tireless efforts to bring us together, "She's like the kindest, most gentlest person you've ever met in your life. I mean, she's like an angel of mercy." Added my mom, "[That's a] very good description; it's a very emotional place."

We waited and waited for only a few minutes...that felt like hours. When the door opened, two women stood looking at me - the same women I had seen at the street corner just an hour before.

Without hesitation, we embraced and cried.

The older woman, who was introduced to me as my grandmother, got a hold of me first, with Yang thinking the lady in black was my birthmother. She proclaimed, "Your grandmother and your mom, they're beautiful." But my aunt quickly corrected Yang, realizing that she wasn't who Yang thought she was. "Sorry, she's your aunt. I thought [the other woman] was your mom, I'm sorry. She's coming." When I asked if my grandmother was the woman who took care of me, Yang translated, saying, "Your aunt was there. She was married." Yang also relayed a message from my aunt to me, letting my parents and I know, "Thank you for growing up so well." I quickly pointed to my adopted parents and said, "Thank them."

So I now knew Myung Ja Park, my grandmother, and Keum Ook Kim, my aunt. I admitted after being prodded that I unfortunately didn't speak any Korean, but my aunt graciously said my pronunciation was really good. She told me through translation, "Could be heredity. She says you have a 'baby' look. She says she saw you at the gas station when you passed by. She said you were constantly looking at her."

Yang also again apologized about mistaking her for my birthmother.

My grandmother told me that my grandfather was sick and was not able to make it for the reunion. She also said she came to see me, despite having stomach cancer and recently having gone through surgery. While my birthmother hadn't shown up for the reunion, my grandmother gave me insight on the first few years of my life and why she decided to give me, her first grandchild, up for adoption.

I asked if my family ever wondered about me and what had become of me, or if they knew I had been adopted by a wonderful family, the Fothergills, of Hawaii. My grandmother said they were concerned for me, saying of my mother, "After they placed you up for adoption, she was not herself. She wasn't herself. She was looking for you in the middle of the night. And she woke up and looked for you. For awhile, she was not really herself."

She continued, "You know, your mom was not in a situation to raise you, so she raised you at the time. But her economic situation was not good. She had to work near the sea - they lived near the sea so they felt you would be better if they placed you up for adoption." My adopted mom chimed in, asking Yang to translate, saying to my grandmother, "Let her know from a very early age, we explained to Mindy that she was loved, and that's why."

Of course with all the tears and the emotions, my dad, ever the prankster, was there to help break the ice and loosen the mood of the room. "Well, I just found out recently that she was adopted," he sarcastically quipped.

Over the next thirty minutes or so, I showed them a photo album of me growing up. My boss Sabrina helped me compile a collection of photos of me through the years during my stressful preparations for my trip. In turn, my aunt showed me picture of my aunts and uncles, and the woman I had been waiting to meet. I learned my birthmother had been married and had two daughters. Apparently the marriage didn't work out, and she was left to care for the two on her own.

But by that point, it had been some time, and I had doubts that my birthmom was going to make it for the reunion. And before I knew it there was another knock on the door. There she was - the woman who conceived me, carried me and gave life to me, walking sheepishly into a room filled with two groups of people; one from Korea, the other from halfway across the world. Her nervousness was outweighed only by my own, and I was impressed by the way she presented herself to me, noting the lovely suit she wore with her short, nicely-cut hair, which rested just above her shoulder.

Immediately we made eye contact and embraced. We stood there and cried for minutes, realizing we were meeting each other for the first time in more than two decades. It was a feeling to which words just can't do proper justice.

She then released me and held my face, just looking at me; perhaps remembering how I was as an infant, or maybe observing the woman I've become. At any rate, I just looked back at her, marveling at her grace and beauty. She said only a simple phrase - "thank you". Nothing in the world could have meant more to me at that moment. As she wept openly in front of me, I could see her heart through her tears - she was clearly sorry she gave me up for adoption.

Over the next hour, she'd reveal unto me the years gone by and precisely why she gave me up as a baby. And also, about my birthfather.