From my last post, Courtney divined that Husband and I will not be going to Korea to pick up Aitch’s little brother, and she asked why we have made that decision twice. It’s a fair question, and one I was asking myself a few months ago. In fact, I couldn’t remember why we had decided to have Aitch escorted. It wasn’t really the money, and we could, I suppose, have taken the time off work. Husband and I are accustomed to overseas travel, and it certainly would have been a wonderful experience to meet Aitch’s foster family. The only strong feeling I could remember about it either way was a fear of traveling more than 24 hours straight with a tiny infant, and a feeling that we were in over our heads anyway with the job of being new parents, without having to add a grueling plane flight to the mix.

This time around, that didn’t seem like a good enough reason, so I approached Husband and insisted he consider traveling to Korea for the new baby. “I’m tired of holding back and not doing things because we have a child,” I told him. “We haven’t been on a vacation in two years. Sure, it’s not convenient. Sure, Aitch is a pain on a plane. But we can’t say ‘no’ to life for the next twenty years just because we’re parents.”

It was a pretty stirring speech. Not only did Husband agree to take Aitch to Korea to pick up the new baby, he also let me schedule a little ski vacation for the three of us. He wasn’t one hundred percent on board—it was more like, “If you really need this to make you happy, I’ll do it.” There was some unattractive whining. But I had prevailed.

Then…I started working on three projects at once. One project involved week-long trips to Europe every month. Other US trips were sandwiched in between. The Amsterdam trip started off four hours late due to a snowstorm and ended five hours late after a detour to Newfoundland. Sitting at the Logan baggage carousel, after waiting nearly an hour for the baggage handlers to get it in gear, I reflected on how absolutely miserable I felt; how that feeling would be magnified if I had a screaming two-year-old; how that feeling would be exponentially magnified if I also had a screaming infant; and how I never, ever wanted to board an airplane again for the rest of my life. Now, at this point in time I still had a passel of business trips on the calendar. I couldn’t really make that vow. But I could say, “No more trips that are not absolutely necessary to put food on the table,” and I did.

Husband was very happy with my unilateral decision.

Having a baby escorted is not very PC in the adoption world, where most people don’t even have that option, so I’m a little defensive about it. Part of the experience of adopting a child cross-culturally is to engage with his birth culture. The social workers push it hard during the home study: “Have you considered traveling? It’s not that much more expensive than escorting, you know. Korea is a very modern country; westerners can feel very comfortable there. It’s a fabulous experience to see where your child comes from. It’s the trip of a lifetime!” And then the segue: “How do you plan to integrate your child’s birth culture into your home life?” Something you’ve clearly failed to do at the outset if you can’t get off your ass to go get the damn kid, you fat, lazy, ugly American. (Not that I’m implying that you were implying this in your question, Courtney, but I clearly felt this from our social workers both times we originally discussed it.)

I visited Korea about ten years ago, before I was married. After I left the Peace Corps, a whole group of my friends moved there to teach English, and I spent ten days with them, bumming around Seoul on my own during the day and hanging out with them at night, that is when I wasn’t passed out on their floor from a combination of jet lag and soju. It was an amazing experience. I love urban environments, and Seoul is so completely urban in a way that I’ve only felt in New York. (I can remember returning to Chicago, looking out the window of my high-rise the next morning, and thinking, “Wow, Chicago’s such a sleepy little city.”) I also adored the other-ness of being in the East; Seoul definitely whetted my appetite for what I hope will be future trips to Japan, Hong Kong, Singapore and other points. But they will be future trips with older children capable of a modicum of reason.

(I’m writing this in a middle seat in the back of a plane on a completely full flight to Chicago. My flight was delayed two hours, so I had to scramble to stand by on this one. I think I made the right choice.)