Hello Readers. I received new words from Korea today. My social worker sent me the email of everything that was talking about. It's about my second mother (foster mother) and who really named me Lee, Kang Sun. Ultimately it's more bad news, it's another little hope I've been holding onto getting crushed. It's incredibly painful, but I'm trying really hard to accept it.
My second mother, Which is what I very lovingly and respectfully call my foster mother, received me on March 14th, 1991. She, my second father, and 10 year old second brother cared for me up until I left home to the states. They fostered through Children's Home from 1989 till 1995, during which they cared for 14 babies. There currently isn't a record of their location, or if they continued fostering through another agency. They are still very much lost to me, but we're not giving up.
There's been quite the debate as to who named me Lee, Kang Sun. Of coursed growing up it was assumed my birth mother did, then at 19 when I started digging in my American file showed my second mother had given me the "family name". We didn't know if that meant her family name or my mother's. Granted either way it was still Lee, but it was the being able to hunt for the document of who signed off my name that was important. It could help lead us to either my birth mother or foster mother.
When I finally started the search for my birth file my Korean agency confirmed my birth mother named me. Now searching deeper through my foster files we know the truth.
The faceless intake worker my birth mother surrendered me to named me, but they did give me my mother's last name Lee. To quote the file Korea sent over with this news, "In regards to the adoptee’s name, the intake worker used the last name of the birthmother. For the first name, Kang Sun, was made hoping that the child would become a peaceful/quiet and beautiful person."
It's good to know what my name meant to someone, especially it being who my mother had to surrender me too. I am very very touched by and thankful for their hopes for me. So thank you intake worker. Thank you so much for naming me with such beautiful intentions, and thank you for treating my mother's baby so sweetly when she had to loose her.
It's a bitter sweet feeling because while I am thankful for the intake worker caring so so much, I'm also very sad that means there's once less document to fallow to my mother and second mother. People keep calling all these pieces of bad news road blocks, but not to me. They're these little hopes being crushed one by one, but I still have other hopes. Like flicking out rocks of a Korean prayer tower, but it's still standing. my other prayers are still in place and holding up. I just need to hold on for more of this flicking.
As much as I wish I had a hand to squeeze right now while I cry in the middle of the student center of the lovely MCTC, I don't have that option, and it only makes me stronger. I'm growing up. If I accept all of this sadness as my reality and keep saving my other hopes as possibilities.. I can get through this. Stopping is not an option, I cannot forget all that I want to know and love.
I have to get through this.