mothermade

The last few days, my husband’s coworkers shared their love of the great Korean outdoors and hosted our family in the mountains of Muju, Sou...

Since moving to Korea, I have looked into the eyes of mothers, young ones and old ones. Of course, I am more thorough in my scanning as I lo...

Dearest Non-Adoptee, Remember the innocence of childhood? I suspect you asked your mother, as my own children do, about that day you enter...

Blocked from knowing my history, a product of the  Baby Box theory , I only remember the love of one family. It wasn’t the choice of my adop...

For this final day of National Adoption Month, I think it fitting to republish my Lost Daughters’ sister, Mariette Williams’ own words. So m...

In 1995, my husband and I moved to Rwanda, just one year after the genocide that took more than 800,000 lives in 100 days. We arrived to fin...

Marriage is hard . It’s exhilarating at first; then the relationship slides into routine. Add children, and it shifts from the couple to the...

Since the death of my father, my shell has hardened. There are few things that make me cry … My children have seen me cry so few times, th...

I sit in our small apartment in Korea … my shoulders tense. Each walk outside our door brings me deep anxiety. Lately, I have reflected on...

Today, I woke from a restless night. Yesterday, I visited my adoption agency with my children. Again, we were disappointed and left with onl...