The Day In Pictures

Leaves coming out.

Choke cherry with flower buds.

Clover.

Foundation dandelions.

Bed head.

Breakfast and lunch.  And probably dinner. 

Reaching for the lens.

Watching the leaves blow outside.

Not always happy.

Sad little punk rocker.

Longing to be outside.

Digging the hole for our pool?

Tulip.

Falling In Love, Of A Motherly Sort

I don't think it happens all at once.  I don't think your first glimpse of your baby is the one that makes you think that child, your child, is the absolute loveliest and best in existence.  For me it happened in increments, and maybe that is in part due to the way in which I became a mother.  Or maybe not.  Maybe love is different for each and every person out there, maybe mine comes more slowly, in bits and pieces that fit together like a puzzle which, when complete, makes me love fiercely, without a doubt, and sometimes beyond reason.  In an effort to be truthful and in an effort to be able to remember this someday, here is how I think it went for me. 
First there was the idea of a child.  I loved the thought of walks in the park, showing my child to the world and the world to my child, beautiful Hallmark moments that left me longing for a baby.  The second time around it was stronger than the first, because I knew how lovely and special parenthood could be.  Having Harrison assured me that parenting, while considered one of the hardest and most important jobs in the world, is also the most rewarding, fulfilling, and uniquely wonderful.  I knew I had enough room in my heart and in my life for a child; I knew our family would not feel complete to me until Harrison had a sibling.  And let's face it, I knew how to make a bottle and change a diaper, so there was less fear involved in my Hallmark dreams this time.
Then we got her picture.  How I loved that picture!  Every time I looked at it my heart swelled.  I studied every inch of it, knew every little thing about her that could be gleaned from a photograph (which isn't much, sadly).  I read her referral paperwork at least once a week, wanting to ingrain her habits and history on my memory, wanting to KNOW her, without ever having met her.  I loved every little detail:  the way she slept, the way she ate, and her personality, at least as it was reported on paper. 
Then we got an update, and pictures of an adorable little baby, no longer an infant, with cheeks that made me want to reach through the photograph to the other side of the world.  Those pictures sealed the deal for my heart.  This girl, this beautiful, would be my daughter.  Did I love her?  Yes and no.  I loved, once again, the idea of her, and what I knew about her held the promise and potential of great love.  But I don't think I loved her, the Emma who is very real and here, until I met her.
When she entered the meeting room at Eastern in her foster mother's arms, it took my breath away.  Love at first sight?  While I had seen her face in pictures, nothing quite prepared me for that first meeting.  She stared at me; I was finally able to reach out and feel the softness of her cheek.  The other people in the room seemed to fade away and there was only my daughter.  Love at first sight exists, but it, too, is superficial.  I loved the way her hair stood on end when her foster mom plucked off her hat, and the way she ducked her head and smiled when she thought something was funny.  I loved the smell of her, that universal good smell that seems to radiate from babies.  I loved, most of all, knowing that she was real, knowing that our dreams were being fulfilled, and knowing that in two days this brilliantly beautiful little person was going to board a plane with me and travel to the other side of the world to be my daughter.
It wasn't until the plane ride home that I began to really love the actual Emma.   That plane ride, oh, it was a doozy.  It was bad.  But in some ways the very things that made it bad forced me to love, honor, and protect my Emma much faster than I might have.  I held our girl in my arms for close to 24 hours straight (the first 17 hours because the very nasty American man sitting next to me refused to allow us to use the bassinet, and the airline sided with him...but that's a topic for another day).  When she screamed because she realized her Omma was gone, I held her and cried with her.  When the very nasty man was very nasty I held on to my baby and swore this would be the very last time someone wronged her (tell me that's not foolish Mother's love talking!) I learned how to soothe her, I learned how to make her laugh, I learned how she likes to be held while feeding.  And in learning those things by trial and error, the amazing little girl who lies fast asleep in her room right now won my heart by bits and pieces, and each day that she is home the puzzle becomes more complete.  In the same way that my first glimpse of her (and of Harrison almost two years ago) took my breath away, now my love for them takes my breath away.  And makes my eyes water.  And makes me realize what a responsibility and an honor it is to be one of their parents. 

Pictures of Korea, Part 3

Flowers growing outside of a shop, also in Insadong.  Can you tell I had Spring Fever?

When  we stepped off the main road (I believe it is actually Insadong Rd.) and peeked down the alleys, we quickly discovered that there were tons of restaurants and tea houses connected by a system of footpaths, which also were, surprisingly, used by mopeds and motorcycles.  At noon there were swarms of people literally racing through the little paths, trying to get into the eateries for lunch.  We explored and found a lovely, although not very busy, restaurant where we shared bulgogi stew for two, and tried two traditional teas.  Mine was citron, and was absolutely the best cup of tea I have ever had the pleasure of consuming, hands down.  Mom's was great, too, but I have forgotten the name of it already.  If you go to Korea, have the traditional tea...it is worth every won you'll spend. 
More pictures of the restaurant section:


I liked this one because it shows the juxtaposition of old and new architecture within Seoul. 

A path leading to a courtyard between two restaurants.

Dishes available are display with pictures so the (many, many) tourists can choose what to eat/order.

I think this is the restaurant we ate at.  How did we choose?  We were starving, they had nice seats in the window, and the seating was raised (benches rather than cushions on the floor) which is much more accommodating to my Mom's hip (she had hip replacement surgery a few years back and can't sit on the floor easily). 

I liked the urns and bowls that often were placed outside of the shops.

Back on the main drag in Insadong, I was trying to capture the vibrant colors that decorated the street and shops. 

As we headed back from Insadong, and tried to get to a palace we wanted to check out, Mom and I got separated on the subway.  It has been reported that one of us leapt from the train, leaving the other in the dust, and conversely that one of us wasn't paying attention and almost got stuck in the train's doors.  Ahem.  In any event, this is where it all took place.  I stayed put and Mom made her way back to me on the next train, but I was pretty anxious and scared for about 10 minutes that we would not find each other in a city of 11 million people.  Not one of our better moments in Korea, but we had a good laugh about it once reunited.

Another subway picture...so clean!  We never did make it to the palace, or to Namdaemun Market.  We had to be back at Eastern by 4:00pm, and we got a little turned around after the high anxiety of our brief separation.  By the time we straightened out our course, we had to head back, which was not necessarily a bad thing because we were able take a (much needed) nap before our meetings. 

After our meetings and dinner Tuesday night, Mom and I went to the Love the Children Hospital at Eastern and rocked the babies.  This is the only picture I took, and I even felt guilty taking it, although I am not sure why.  Perhaps it was because it seemed like an intrusion on the delicate peace the nannies/nurses had created in the moment (no babies were crying, and I didn't want to be the one to wake them with flash photography).  Or perhaps because it was hard to see so many babies, and so few adults to go around...although I must say the nannies/nurses do an AMAZING job.  I really don't know how they do it, but each baby had its turn to be loved and cuddled.  Perhaps it was because I was thinking of my own kids laying in those bassinets, waiting for their turn with the nanny.  I don't know, exactly.  It was a profound experience, though, and one I will never forget.

On Wednesday morning we got up very early and went to the lobby with our luggage, where we met with Emma's foster mother again.  She was so, so sad.  It was another very hard moment, realizing how much she loved our baby, and how hard it was for her to say goodbye.  Mrs. Koo showed me how to pat and sing to Hee Seon to make her sleep, so she was asleep when we left.  The younger Dr. Kim led us into a meeting room and said a prayer for us all (there was another woman who was escorting a baby home to a Parsons family...she was on a homeland tour with her older kids).  Then we went outside to the waiting van and driver, and this is a picture of me in the van while we were speeding down the highway, away from Eastern and Seoul. 

One of the three pictures I took during the flight home, when Emma was content to sit with my Mom.  I was trying to capture her fuzzy duck/newly hatched chick hair, which was highlighted nicely by the reading light.  It didn't come out very good, though. 

Meeting Daddy and Harry; home at last.  
That's the end of my photos from Korea, but just the beginning of our greater journey as a family.  Thanks for coming along for the ride!

Pictures of Korea, Part 2

One of the loveliest things about being in Seoul last week was our escape from the dreadful wintry weather New York has been experiencing.  The buildings at Eastern (and in Korea in general) are kept very warm and humid, and we frequently had the window to our room open to welcome in the fresh spring air.  I realized on our second morning there that the faint swishing sound I was hearing was the wind rustling the leaves of the bamboo outside of our window (above). 

Room 408, the view.  The city as seen from our window, looking right.

Looking left.

In the alley below our window, a neighbor climbs the stairs next to a selection of newly planted spring flowers.

License plate.  I take odd pictures, don't I?

Detail of a chimney we could see from our window.  I love the attention to detail, how every little thing can be made something of beauty.

More of Seoul, as seen from the sixth floor of Eastern.

And in the other direction.

If you take a left out of the front door of Eastern and walk, you will pass this sculpture, which is in front of a bank.  We saw art all over the city.

Arriving in Insadong (a street and its sidestreets in Seoul that boast hundreds of little shops with an artistic/traditional craft/antiques focus) we saw these sculptures across form the information booth where we had stopped to get directions.  We both thoroughly enjoyed our time in Insadong, and felt as though some of the emotional weight of the week melted away while we strolled the marketplace.  The following pictures in this post are all of Insadong.



You'll notice a tinge of green on the trees.  When we left Eastern in the morning there were no leaves to be seen, but by the time we left Insadong the leaves had all popped out. 

The sidewalk space in front of the shops was prime real estate all over the city, Insadong being no exception. 

We found a little marketplace (also part of Insadong) full of shops that spiraled up and around a cobblestone marketplace.  There were butterflies hanging from wires across the courtyard, and they bobbed and danced on the gentle breeze.  Lovely is the only word that comes to mind when I think of that market.  At the very top was a traditional teahouse, and good smells emanated from various shops along the way upward. 

A view of the shops from across the courtyard.

More butterflies as we walked up the stairs.


This man was beating some sort of dough in order to mix it.  He drew quite a crowd, and I think they sold lots of the snacks he was making.  We bought a similar treat from a vendor across the way.


A banner hung from the walkway.

I have one more post of pictures coming, which will cover our dining experience in Insadong, saying farewell to Eastern and Korea, and arriving safely at home. Right now I am off to bed, as I was running a fever today (all of those people hacking and coughing on the plane have finally caught up with me).  We're all getting along very well, though, and Emma is more happy each and every day.  Harry had a better day today, as well, and I think he'll be fine once we settle into more of a routine.  Thank you all for your congratulations and good wishes...they mean the world to us.