Archive for October, 2007


Funny how life works. You kind of go about things on a search, weeding through. And you … I… find “something” I think is the best thing to happen. “Something” so positive, “something” that seems to be changing me, bringing me up to the surface for some air. I like myself, how I am, with this new “something.” I like what I am finding out about myself. And as fast as I stumbled on that “something,” it spins around.  The air it once showed me turns to smoke and I choke on the new realization.

“Something” is being purged from my system… sliding out slowly in the tear down my cheek. Rushing out in the cold sweat and the heat that has my face flushed with rage. “Something” has left with my own body heat, leaving me shivering as memories spin through my mind, my heart… one last time, please. “Something” stings as it shoots from my chest, down my arm. “Something” pounds through my eardrum and rings and beats with my heart. The process is painful, but the pain is not the worst part.

Relief come to me.

October 21, 2007 at 2:09 pm 4 comments


“Any other complaints for me,” the doctor asks.

I shake my head in the negative, wondering if vomiting large amounts of blood is not alarming enough to him. In my experience, ER doctors tend to be grossly unfazed by symptoms more commonly thought to be life-threatening (such as vomiting blood) and more interested in the smaller details (such as when you last took a shit and what you have been eating today). So he asks me to lay back so he can “check.” This exam always pisses me off. It seems like such a waste of my time, almost as if it is a stalling technique.  But I lean back, watching the room spin and feeling the pressure in my abdomen press upwards, again making it hard to take a full and complete breath in.

“Does this hurt?”



Feeling as if dear doctor is about to get a visual on why I came here, I push out another “No.”

He presses a bit lower, right next to my right hip bone and I feel a jolt. He looks up and says, “probably you are ovulating, yes? This is your time?”

My time? My time? It spins in my head. Time. Time ended about a year ago. This aspect of my life, I explain to him, is something pre-chemo, pre-cancer, and what I typically associate with my healthy days. “You know,” he says with a slight grin,”you are becoming more towards health everyday. Your body feels health before you can.”

I liked how that sounded. And I wished he repeated it for me, slowly, so I could soak in his diagnosis completely. It was as if I got the diagnosis of “woman” back. Sliding back into my own self, my own cycles, my own body … with an awareness this time, that she could leave me, again, at any time.  

October 21, 2007 at 4:21 am Leave a comment

…. and then I grew up.

As promised…. a post long time coming. ‘Ode to Jean Ling-yu Rosenberg’…. or, what could also be called ‘A reflection of my Past.’  Jean wrote the following comment on my “Plan B” page, I liked it so much, I felt it needed to be more front and center.


4.Jean Ling-yu Rosenberg  |  July 16, 2007 at 6:18 pm

You have major self esteem issues. I am Jewish and Chinese myself and do not find myself ranting and raving about how hard it is growing up in a “white” world and complaining that my parents adopted me. What, you’d rather live in an orphanage in Korea with no future and being looked down upon as an orphan child? Be fucking thankful for what they did for you, you hyperactive ungrateful brat.


 Christine replied to this comment in saying, “Oh Jean. You may not ‘rant and rave’ about being adopted and non-white, but you DO rant and rave, don’t you? And accuse, and swear, and name-call.”

So, what is it that I find so charming about Jean’s comment? Well, other than just getting a kick out of the fact that she read my blog although she hated it, she just sounds so familiar. I draw two conclusions from her comment that stem from my own life experiences. They are as follows…

  1. My first thought (and many of my adoptee friends who saw the comment had the same guess) is that Jean is not the adoptee she claims to be. She is perhaps an adoptive parent, with a little Ling-yu maybe, who feels my dissatisfaction with the adoption business is a direct blow to her happy home… which btw… she paid good money for! Ahhh… what would this world be without so many silly people?!

  2. But then again, at a younger age (and if she was truly an adoptee from China we can make our own assumptions as to her age, due to Chinese adoption being fairly new, compared to Korean adoptions), I also would spew such adoption propaganda here and there. I even thought to myself (and it came from hearing the same opinions from my own adoptive parents) such words such as “ungrateful” and “brat.” I used to consider such things such as “better off” and “home” and “orphanage no place for children.” Yes… it was all very clear to me back then, what a blessing my life was. How lucky I was. Lucky to be taken from my birth country that, if they had it their way, would have kept me locked up with no chance in this world. Thank G-d for white people and their money, who saved me. Yep, that was me. And then… well… I grew up.

I grew up. No, I did not get bitter. I did not get angry. I did not become ungrateful. I did not forget the concept of orphanage. I simply matured enough to understand a few basic concepts….

 One being that adoption will always exist. Even if there was no Confucius influences on Korean society (look at how many adoptions happen domestically). Even if the welfare program was better in Korea (look at how many adoptions happen domestically). Because there will always be woman who become pregnant during a bad time in their lives, or as a result of an affair, or a violent crime, or when they are sick, or, or or. And there will always be infertility and people who aspire to become parents again. (Not to mention the people with the desire to “save” a cute little exotic kid.) It is, in my opinion, a very natural cause. Through this realization that adoption will always exist… I am able to forget the idealist prospectives of “when all babies will be born to mothers able to care for them…” In all honesty, this concept of adoption being an immortal system is reassuring to me. I don’t want to be among the last generation of adoptees. Selfishly, I want adoption to always be.

However, this takes me to my second concept. Since adoption will always be, why shouldn’t we work to improve the system? Lots of people have worked to make it a more profitable system, a more efficient system, and even a more appealing system. Adoption agencies advertise all kinds of catchy things. Adoptive parents chit-chat and spread the word on which agency will get them a younger baby faster. Which agencies slide you through the process with more ease, less home work, and better door-to-door service. Which agencies offer delivery or which require carry-out. Prospective birth parents chit-chat and spread the word on which agency has the better selection in families, the nicest social workers, and the best services (sometimes even being who can pay the most ‘birth parent expenses’). But in all this chit-chat and news spreading, who is talking about the adoptees-to-be and their needs and the families post-adoption? I know who … the same people who are being accused of being ungrateful brats, adoption-haters, and whiners. Thus, I am honored to be called such names!

Next, and perhaps most earth-shattering for me, I have come to realize that my parents’ opinions on adoption cannot be the same as my own on adoption. I have a loss and they have a gain. Is my adoption experience all loss? No. Is their adoption experience all gain? No. They do not have in me what parents of biological children have. They missed my first 8 months, they do not look at me and see a reflection of their younger selves, they do not day-dream about how their grandchildren from me might have their nose, their curly brown hair, or their genetically influenced talents towards the arts. There are losses there. My losses are similar — only completely the opposite. And we can agree on many things when it comes to adoption. But we cannot know how each other feels. And thus, there is no reason why I need to spew their opinions on adoption and not have my very own likes, dislikes, and concerns about the system.

Lastly, I do not need to feel grateful for being adopted. Just as I am not grateful for that detour sign that allowed me to find a faster way to work this morning overall improving my life by a good 15 minutes each workday… I need not be grateful to my parents for adopting me. They did not pick me from a catalog (and even if they had — they would not be picking me for who I am, just for what a beauty I am) and decide to “save” me. It was not personal. They had their own selfish reasons (and in my opinion — the best reasons to adopt are selfish ones … ie “we want a child”). They should be as grateful to me for fulfilling their needs as I am to them for fulfilling mine…. which is NOT AT ALL. We were both brought together by a system … a natural system to some extent, but mostly a man-made system … and that is just how it was going to be. They did no good deed and I did no good deed. Grateful and adoption are two concepts independent of each other — not one influences the other.

Thanks, Jean Rosenberg. Whomever you are… number one or number two. You have made me realize how much I have grown on this issue. I wish for you the same one day…

October 19, 2007 at 8:19 pm 10 comments

It was a nice ending.

That last post of mine was a nice blog ender, I thought. It seemed to sum up where I was leaving things with my adoptee self to focus on more present things, more important things, more healthy things. But since when did this blog become all about adoptee Julia? When I became that way. I met someone, who introduced me to that KAD thing I had and I allowed it to become all who I am. I allowed it to define me in everyway. And while it explains my life, I am more complex than this. There are more sides. Recently that same person said something that really stung. Something that explains his push away. Why, when I ask what’s up… there is no real reply. It was offensive and it was raw and it was, off track. Because I have healed emotionally this past year. When some people push things away and carry on – or drink it off – that’s not how I am anymore. I have come to my own, had a spiritual awakening, built my own life.  I have stopped buying time and playing the good girl. I have stopped pulling in and pretending.

I almost posted again, when I received a funny comment from Jean Rosenberg. I will post about her later. She almost brought me out of hiding I would say. Almost.

So many people have emailed privately and asked what’s up. Why the dry spell? I am sorry I dropped off like that … I am so grateful to everyone who is pushing for me or, in the least, just likes to know I am still walking this planet. Well, I am.

 More to come…

October 18, 2007 at 7:49 pm 7 comments

Julia’s Jam

It’s just not that black & white. Not because I am taking a stand against. Just because, the issues I face are somewhere in the grey area and to weed through them, I blog. I blog. ~

Glimpse of Julia

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