The therapy room was filled with warm afternoon sunlight. The walls were covered with drawings made by children, and colorful blocks and dolls were meticulously arranged on the floor.
Hayul sat in front of a small desk, gripping a crayon. It was a bit too large for a seven-year-old’s hand, but Hayul held it tightly and was drawing something on the paper.
Therapist Gim Somi asked gently.
“Hayul, what are you drawing today?”
Instead of answering, Hayul continued drawing. For Hayul, whose language development was slower than his peers, pictures were a more comfortable form of expression than words.
What pleased Gim Somi was that Hayul, who usually drew complex geometric patterns, had recently begun drawing the kinds of subjects typical children did, every now and then.
A small house had been drawn on the paper. Inside the house were three people, while one person stood alone far outside.
“Who is this person?”
Gim Somi pointed to the person outside the house.
Hayul hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a small voice.
“Mommy.”
“I see. But why is Mommy outside the house?”
Hayul picked up a black crayon and drew a long, thick line between the house and Mommy. It looked just like a wall.
“She went far away.”
Hayul whispered.
Gim Somi’s heart ached. The wounded child’s heart was laid bare within the drawing.
“Hayul, shall we play with dolls?”
Hayul nodded and went to where the dolls were. The child took out a family doll set and arranged them on the floor.
“Who is this?”
Gim Somi picked up the mother doll.
Hayul flinched for a moment. Then he deliberately turned away, refusing to look at the mother doll.
“You don’t like the mommy doll?”
“······.”
“Why don’t you like her?”
“She’s far away.”
“Hmm… How far did Mommy go?”
“Far away. So far that even when Hayul cries, she doesn’t come.”
The child’s voice grew smaller and smaller. Then he took two father dolls and placed them side by side next to the child doll.
“Uncle Bear and Uncle Owl.”
Hayul’s expression brightened. The child pretended to hug the three dolls tightly.
“Uncle Bear hugs Hayul. Uncle Owl hugs Hayul too.”
“I see. How does Hayul feel when your uncles hug you like this?”
“······Happy.”
Hayul smiled bashfully.
Somi carefully brought the mother doll back.
“What if Mommy came back and said she was sorry?”
Hayul hesitated for a moment, then took the mother doll. But he still placed it apart from the other dolls.
“I don’t know.”
Hayul wore a troubled expression, unsure of how to feel.
A short while later, Taeho and Gihwan entered the counseling room. Hayul was in the next room reading a book with a nurse.
Taeho asked Gim Somi first.
“How is Hayul doing?”
“Hayul is experiencing typical attachment trauma. As I told you before, the sudden disappearance of his primary caregiver left a deep wound on the child. And now that his birth mother has returned, it’s natural for him to feel confused.”
“Is that why he’s been waking up crying at night lately?”
This time, Gihwan asked.
“That’s very possible. Hayul is currently feeling excessive anxiety about being abandoned. He also has a strong aversion to new relationships. It’s the same with his birth mother.”
Taeho and Gihwan listened with heavy expressions.
“But there are many positive changes too. Hayul has recovered a lot since meeting you two. I see evidence that he’s forming a secure attachment again.”
“Like what?”
“He draws pictures of three people together inside a house. At first, he only drew pictures of himself alone. And during role-play, he calls you two Uncle Bear and Uncle Owl, expressing affection.”
Taeho’s heart warmed.
Gihwan cautiously spoke up.
“But what do you think about meeting his birth mother? Would it be better if they didn’t meet at all?”
“That wouldn’t be good. To Hayul, his mother is someone who hurt him, but also someone he longs for at the same time.”
“But the child is showing such rejection.”
“That’s right. But if we leave that rejection as it is, the unresolved wound will remain in Hayul’s heart. It could cause problems in his interpersonal relationships even as an adult.”
Taeho asked seriously.
“Then what should we do?”
“A gradual approach is needed. First, have him meet his mother in an environment where Hayul feels safe, preferably with the two of you present. And let him know that he can step back whenever he wants.”
“Is there a specific method?”
“Set up a signal in advance. Something like Hayul tapping his finger three times when he’s scared. Then you two would immediately come to protect him.”
Gihwan nodded.
“So the most important thing is that the child feels safe.”
“Exactly. And take it slowly, even if it takes time. Forcing it or rushing could deepen the trauma instead.”
***
The next afternoon, in front of Jeong Miyeong’s recovery room.
Hayul stood between Taeho and Gihwan, gazing at the door.
The child’s breathing gradually quickened. His small shoulders trembled, and his gaze shook anxiously. They were the early signs of sensory hypersensitivity.
“Hayul.”
Taeho knelt down to meet the child’s eyes.
Hayul couldn’t look at Taeho straight on, continuously averting his gaze.
“It’s okay. Let’s start with the signal like we practiced before. One, two, three.”
Taeho held out his finger. Hayul tapped Taeho’s finger three times with a trembling hand.
“Good job. Whenever you’re scared, just do this signal. Then Uncle Bear and Uncle Owl will hug Hayul right away.”
Gihwan held out his finger too. Hayul tapped Gihwan’s finger three times as well.
“We’ll always be by Hayul’s side. Hayul. I promise.”
The child’s breathing slowly steadied.
The recovery room door slowly opened.
Jeong Miyeong sat on the bed, waiting for Hayul. Anticipation and anxiety were etched across her face at the same time.
Hayul stopped at the threshold. His small body began to stiffen with tension once more.
Jeong Miyeong spoke quietly, holding back tears.
“Hayul. Hello? It’s Mommy. Will you come to Mommy?”
Hayul turned around with frightened eyes and looked at Taeho and Gihwan. The two encouraged the child with warm smiles.
“It’s okay, Hayul. We’re right here.”
Gihwan whispered.
Hayul took one step, then another, cautiously moving forward.
He was afraid, but a part of him was curious.
Was she really his mother?
Why hadn’t she come for so long?
Hayul had been hurt,
He had cried because he was hurt,
He had been so scared,
So why hadn’t Mommy come?
She had said she would come right away…
Taeho and Gihwan quietly stepped aside and watched from near the door. They were ready to rush over at any moment if the child called for help.
Hayul finally reached the bedside. Jeong Miyeong cautiously extended her hand.
“Hayul. Mommy missed you so much.”
Jeong Miyeong spoke, suppressing her sobs. She was afraid that if she cried loudly, the child would run away. She forced up the corners of her mouth that kept trying to weep, trying to smile for him.
I’m sorry, my baby.
Mommy took too long.
I was only ever thinking of you.
When I was in pain, when I was beaten, when I wanted to die.
I endured it all by thinking of you.
I dreamed only of the day I would meet you again like this.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. My Hayul.
“Mommy······.”
Hayul’s small fingers gently grasped Jeong Miyeong’s finger.
Jeong Miyeong covered her bursting sobs with her hand and nodded with a smile.
***
A week later, Jeong Miyeong’s condition was noticeably improving.
Revival-β’s cooling-phase stepwise administration method was showing better results than expected.
Nurse Bak Geumja reported the test results.
“His serum TNF-α levels have dropped by more than eighty percent. His inflammation markers have also returned to the normal range.”
“The punched-out ulcers seem to have improved significantly as well. At this rate, we can expect clinical remission—an improvement in symptoms and inflammation.”
Taeho smiled with satisfaction.
Jeong Miyeong had recovered enough to rise from her bed and walk around the hospital room. Color had returned to her previously pale face, and above all, her eyes came alive when she looked at Hayul.
“Hayul, shall we go down to the first floor and watch TV with Mommy?”
“Yes!”
Hayul now naturally held his mother’s hand. The rejection he had felt when they first met had largely faded.
The time they spent together grew day by day. After returning from kindergarten, Hayul would draw next to his mother’s bed, and in the evenings, they would read fairy tales together.
Hayul seemed to enjoy the time he spent with his mother.
“Mommy, this is pretty!”
“Wow, it’s so pretty. Just like our Hayul.”
When Jeong Miyeong stroked Hayul’s head, the child beamed.
But hearing that laughter, Gihwan’s heart grew heavier and heavier.
Gihwan looked at the documents on the desk.
Adoption applications, Family Court documents, and the social worker’s final report.
All the procedures were nearly complete. Only one obstacle remained.
[Family Court Opinion]
Adoption Petitioners: Gang Taeho, Seong Gihwan
Current Status: Joint adoption by two unmarried men
Review Opinion: Additional screening required due to insufficient legal basis
Concerns: Whether a stable child-rearing environment can be guaranteed
“Men who aren’t even married adopting a child······.”
Gihwan muttered.
It wasn’t legally impossible. But in reality, they had to go through an extremely difficult process. But now, if the birth mother appeared and was recovering?
‘She’ll take Hayul away.’
A dark thought crept into a corner of Gihwan’s heart.
The joy he had felt raising Hayul all this time, and the moments of anxious worry. When Hayul had a fever, he had nursed him through the night, and when Hayul smiled at him for the first time, he had felt as happy as if he had gained the entire world.
But now she shows up and takes the child away?
“Why did she have to show up now······.”
Gihwan clenched his fist.
He resented her. Of course, he understood logically that Jeong Miyeong had been in an unavoidable situation. But his heart felt differently.
Taeho had noticed the change in Gihwan. He had become less talkative than usual, and his gaze when looking at Hayul seemed anxious.
“Gihwan, are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve seemed a bit down lately.”
“······Once Hayul’s mother fully recovers, she’ll take him away, won’t she?”
Gihwan gave a bitter smile.
Taeho’s feelings were complicated as well. As a doctor, a patient’s recovery was the greatest joy. But as Hayul’s guardian, he was anticipating a sad ending.
“Nothing has been decided yet.”
“But there’s the bond of blood. If his birth mother recovers, she’ll naturally want to raise her child.”
Taeho couldn’t find words to say. Because Gihwan wasn’t wrong.
“But she is Hayul’s mother. Perhaps that might be the better choice for Hayul.”
“My head knows that. But my heart······.”
Taeho quietly placed his hand on Gihwan’s shoulder.
That evening, Gihwan, who had left work early, was playing with Hayul in the living room. Hayul was building a house with blocks, and Gihwan was watching from beside him.
“Uncle Owl, look at this!”
Hayul proudly showed off the block house.
“Wow, it’s amazing. Whose house is it?”
“It’s a house where Uncle Owl, and, and Uncle Bear, and Hayul live!”
Gihwan’s heart ached.
“Hayul······.”
“Huh?”
Gihwan looked at Hayul and started to speak, then stopped. He wanted to ask who Hayul wanted to live with, but he felt such a question would hurt the child.
“Why?”
Hayul asked, tilting his head. Tears began to well up in Gihwan’s eyes.
“No, Hayul. How much Uncle Owl······.”
Gihwan turned his head to hide his tears, but they were already streaming down his cheeks.
Hayul approached with a worried expression.
“Are you hurt?”
Hayul wiped Gihwan’s tears with his small hand.
“Shall Hayul blow on it?”
At that moment, Gihwan’s tears poured out even more. The thought of having to let go of such a lovely child felt like his heart was being torn apart.
“Did Hayul do something wrong?”
“No, Hayul. You didn’t do anything wrong. Uncle Owl is just crying because Hayul is so lovable.”
Hayul hugged Gihwan tightly.
“Hayul loves Uncle Owl too. And, and Uncle Bear too. And, Mommy too.”
Taeho watched the scene from afar.
Gihwan’s pain was conveyed to him completely.
He felt the same way. The thought of parting with Hayul made his heart ache. But as a doctor, and as an adult, he couldn’t be swept away by emotion alone.
‘When Jeong Miyeong fully recovers, that’s when we’ll really have to make the difficult choice.’