Now that Sy has gone back to work because his paternity leave ended, I've become a stay at home mom. And do you know what I've realized? I spend a LOT of time in Emily's room. I've been taking care of Emily for 6 weeks now, and the majority of my time goes to putting Emily down. It can take a really long time to get her to fall asleep - sometimes more than an hour.
So what am I doing when I put Emily down? I'm usually pacing her room - shh-ing her, rocking her, swinging her, walking in circles - all within the 4 walls of her room.
When I was pregnant, I had spent a lot of time pinteresting all kinds of cute ideas for how to decorate Emily's room. I wanted her room to be perfect - the perfect mix of cute, a little girly, functional, organized, and most importantly - what she would want. I spent more money on her little rug than I did for our own living room rug. I researched mini children's bookshelves that would be perfect for her. I designed bible verses and framed them for her room so she would always know she was loved and blessed by God.
What a fool I was!
Emily doesn't care about her room at all! She can barely see more than 8 inches in front of her face! What I should've done was to actually design her room to be best for ME. I'M the one who spends the majority of my time in her room - staring at the same 4 walls for hours on end. I should've made this room more suitable for me! If I could go back in time, here's what I would add:
1. A large TV that is always on mute with closed captions, and plays on repeat episodes of Friends, How I Met Your Mother, and Family Feud. (I mean come on - who doesn't love Family Feud?? And what better way to not lose your mind than to try to come up with answers from a poll of 100 people) I think 30 minutes would fly by a lot more quickly if I could watch tv than to watch my child's eyelids open YET AGAIN.
2. A large computer screen that plays my instagram and facebook feed for me - and also has some kind of magical ability to auto scroll for me. This would help me to feel connected to the world at normal hours of the day. Right now, I only check social media during the wee hours of the night while I pump.
3. A faux animal skin rug that is super soft on my feet. (you know - that popular ikea white animal skin rug!) I spend so much time pacing in circles on that rug - it'd be nice if I could feel the luxurious fur between my toes.
4. Or maybe on the large computer screen, I can have a large font version of a book to read - because man, I really miss reading normal books. I spent the last 2 months of my pregnancy reading only baby-related books that I haven't been able to read a single page of glorious, beautiful literature. I miss the feeling of getting lost in a book and being transported somewhere else. And when else do you want to be transported more than when you're trapped in a baby's room trying to shush them to sleep for the 13847592475th time?
This is the advice I would give to people who are nesting. Don't make the perfect room for your baby. (Emily can't read any of the books I stocked her bookshelf with!) Make the nursery a haven for yourself, and you might survive the crazy first 3 months.
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
Friday, March 16, 2018
May the odds be ever in your favor!
Since the day that we came home from the hospital, taking care of Emily has been a round-the-clock job that has no end. For the past month, we have been living hour to hour, waiting for this little beast to awaken.
I've realized that taking care of a baby feels a lot like the movie/book Hunger Games 2 - Catching Fire. SPOILER ALERT: if you haven't read/seen Hunger Games 2, I'm going to spoil it for you.
In Hunger Games 2, the players learn quickly that the island they're on is based on a clock. Depending on which triangle of the clock you are standing in, you will face a different "monster" to have to defeat or escape (i.e. the poisonous fog, blood rain, etc). As they run through the different hours of the clock, they must defeat/escape the same "monsters" over and over until the game is done.
I feel like raising a baby is a lot like this clock arena!
Hour 1: the fear of waiting for Emily to wake up: You never know when she's going to wake up and how much time we have left to enjoy the quiet. Do we watch another episode on Netflix? Do we try to nap? Do we have time to take a shower? The not-knowing when she's going to wake up can be one of the most stressful questions to have to face.
Hour 2: Emily wakes up and we change her diaper: And so begins the crying as she hates being cold as we take off her onesie. And then the frantic diaper changing begins as we try to be as quick as possible before she scratches up her face with her long nails. And while this is all happening, we pray that she won't projectile poop on my face again, or she doesn't pee or poo on yet another changing pad and wet another onesie - adding to my laundry basket that seems to never be empty.
Hour 3: Feeding Emily. There's actually nothing too stressful about feeding Emily. I find her the most amusing during this time when she's happily gulping away. She makes the cutest little sounds - whether she's drinking too fast and making loud sucking noises, or when she sighs contentedly or even sighs out of exhaustion. (apparently it's hard work to eat!) The only stressful thing about feeding Emily is how she cries so hard when it takes us more than 5 seconds to prepare her bottles. What an impatient little thing!
Hour 4: Putting Emily to sleep: This is the hardest part of the arena. It's a mental game and a physical game. Physically, it gets exhausting holding her for long periods of time trying to get her to fall asleep. I sometimes legit do a full cardio workout the way I have to bounce and swing and rock her to sleep. The guessing game is what kills me the most - is she going to respond to a simple jiggle of my arms? or does she want an aggressive rocking? or does she want the swinging from side to side? or the swinging up and down? which combination is going to be the magic touch to put her to sleep? But on top of all this is the mental game - the uncertainty of how long you're going to be doing this for. Will I be rocking for 5 min or 20 min? Can I stay awake long enough not to drop her (when it's 4:30am)? How long am I going to have to hold my own pee while I wait for her to fall asleep? How long can I hold out before I need to ask Sy to tag me out?
And then when we finally get her to sleep, the clock resets and we're back to Hour 1 - the fear of Emily waking up. Will we need to go back into her room and re-settle her? Do we bother to get comfortable in our bed? How long before she wakes up again?
And the fear settles back in.
And the arena never stops.
Our baby is a Hunger Games competition. Who will win? I'm pretty sure it's her.
I've realized that taking care of a baby feels a lot like the movie/book Hunger Games 2 - Catching Fire. SPOILER ALERT: if you haven't read/seen Hunger Games 2, I'm going to spoil it for you.
In Hunger Games 2, the players learn quickly that the island they're on is based on a clock. Depending on which triangle of the clock you are standing in, you will face a different "monster" to have to defeat or escape (i.e. the poisonous fog, blood rain, etc). As they run through the different hours of the clock, they must defeat/escape the same "monsters" over and over until the game is done.
I feel like raising a baby is a lot like this clock arena!
Hour 1: the fear of waiting for Emily to wake up: You never know when she's going to wake up and how much time we have left to enjoy the quiet. Do we watch another episode on Netflix? Do we try to nap? Do we have time to take a shower? The not-knowing when she's going to wake up can be one of the most stressful questions to have to face.
Hour 2: Emily wakes up and we change her diaper: And so begins the crying as she hates being cold as we take off her onesie. And then the frantic diaper changing begins as we try to be as quick as possible before she scratches up her face with her long nails. And while this is all happening, we pray that she won't projectile poop on my face again, or she doesn't pee or poo on yet another changing pad and wet another onesie - adding to my laundry basket that seems to never be empty.
Hour 3: Feeding Emily. There's actually nothing too stressful about feeding Emily. I find her the most amusing during this time when she's happily gulping away. She makes the cutest little sounds - whether she's drinking too fast and making loud sucking noises, or when she sighs contentedly or even sighs out of exhaustion. (apparently it's hard work to eat!) The only stressful thing about feeding Emily is how she cries so hard when it takes us more than 5 seconds to prepare her bottles. What an impatient little thing!
Hour 4: Putting Emily to sleep: This is the hardest part of the arena. It's a mental game and a physical game. Physically, it gets exhausting holding her for long periods of time trying to get her to fall asleep. I sometimes legit do a full cardio workout the way I have to bounce and swing and rock her to sleep. The guessing game is what kills me the most - is she going to respond to a simple jiggle of my arms? or does she want an aggressive rocking? or does she want the swinging from side to side? or the swinging up and down? which combination is going to be the magic touch to put her to sleep? But on top of all this is the mental game - the uncertainty of how long you're going to be doing this for. Will I be rocking for 5 min or 20 min? Can I stay awake long enough not to drop her (when it's 4:30am)? How long am I going to have to hold my own pee while I wait for her to fall asleep? How long can I hold out before I need to ask Sy to tag me out?
And then when we finally get her to sleep, the clock resets and we're back to Hour 1 - the fear of Emily waking up. Will we need to go back into her room and re-settle her? Do we bother to get comfortable in our bed? How long before she wakes up again?
And the fear settles back in.
And the arena never stops.
Our baby is a Hunger Games competition. Who will win? I'm pretty sure it's her.
Parents - can't live with them, can't live without... umm... no comment
I can't believe it's already been 5 weeks since Emily has come into our lives! The days and nights are so long, and yet time goes by so fast. I've been meaning to capture all the thoughts/insights and memories I've had during these past 5 weeks so that I can look back on them years from now when Sy and I are old, and we can miss being parents to a newborn. But alas, time is precious and instead of writing this all down, I chose naps or taking a shower instead. (I think we can all agree that was the right decision!)
So here goes - the first memory I want to capture.
The first time my parents came to visit us at our home after Emily's birth was the most annoying 3 hours I've had in a long time. My parents are good people with good intentions - but boy do they lack common sense! In the middle of their visit, I had to go into the bedroom to go pump and left Sy to hang out with them alone. I had imagined that it would be a little awkward for them to just make chit chat without me, but how bad could it be? I heard my dad go to the bathroom and then shortly after, he started calling out to Sy asking where our toilet cleaner was. Sy ran over to my dad and gently told him it was unnecessary for him to clean our toilet. But my dad insisted that it needed to be cleaned, and started going to his car to get his cleaning supplies. When my dad came back from the car, he realized that we didn't have a toilet brush. Sy then had to explain to my dad that we use the disposable brushes, and again insisted that my dad do not clean our toilet. But again - my dad refused to listen.
So then Sy had to explain how to use the disposable brush. I was still trapped in our bedroom pumping, and couldn't put an end to this even if I wanted to. Soon, I heard the sloshing sounds of my dad cleaning our toilet. After multiple flushes, I began to wonder - why is my dad still cleaning the toilet? It should only take about 1-2 minutes to clean a toilet. Sy must have had the same thought and went to go check in on my dad.
And what did Sy find? He found my dad cleaning our bathtub USING THE TOILET BRUSH! Sy exclaimed, "DAD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? THAT'S DISGUSTING!" Which my dad then reasoned that the toilet brush was clean bc he had rinsed it in the clean toilet bowl after he had finished cleaning it. Sy (man, I love his quick logic) then asked my dad - "Would you eat off a plate that I used to clean with this toilet water??" And my dad - being the proud man that he is - refused to acknowledge that he had committed a truly heinous act in the name of sanitation - and again insisted that WE were the crazy, neurotic clean-freaks who could not appreciate his act of service to us.
I get that my dad was trying to be a good father - to help clean his daughter's house while she was recovering from having a baby - and clearly didn't have time to clean. But he didn't realize that he had now given us an extra chore of having to clean the bathtub! (I HATE cleaning the bathtub the most of all the household chores!) He took our mediocre-level clean bathtub and turned it into a bathtub that no one would want to step foot into! I wanted to strangle him!
Sigh - parents can be such a pain! They mean well - but man, they do not make life easier more often than not! Even 6 hours after my parents had left our house, while lying on the sofa, I burst out in anger - "IF HE HAD EVEN USED A NEW TOILET BRUSH - THAT WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER!" Sy burst out laughing that I was still angry and replaying this encounter when I was supposed to be napping.
This was truly an SMH moment. Emily - if you ever read this entry when you're older - I hope you know that this is what we put up with because your grandparents wanted to see you. You owe us, girl. You owe us so much.
So here goes - the first memory I want to capture.
The first time my parents came to visit us at our home after Emily's birth was the most annoying 3 hours I've had in a long time. My parents are good people with good intentions - but boy do they lack common sense! In the middle of their visit, I had to go into the bedroom to go pump and left Sy to hang out with them alone. I had imagined that it would be a little awkward for them to just make chit chat without me, but how bad could it be? I heard my dad go to the bathroom and then shortly after, he started calling out to Sy asking where our toilet cleaner was. Sy ran over to my dad and gently told him it was unnecessary for him to clean our toilet. But my dad insisted that it needed to be cleaned, and started going to his car to get his cleaning supplies. When my dad came back from the car, he realized that we didn't have a toilet brush. Sy then had to explain to my dad that we use the disposable brushes, and again insisted that my dad do not clean our toilet. But again - my dad refused to listen.
So then Sy had to explain how to use the disposable brush. I was still trapped in our bedroom pumping, and couldn't put an end to this even if I wanted to. Soon, I heard the sloshing sounds of my dad cleaning our toilet. After multiple flushes, I began to wonder - why is my dad still cleaning the toilet? It should only take about 1-2 minutes to clean a toilet. Sy must have had the same thought and went to go check in on my dad.
And what did Sy find? He found my dad cleaning our bathtub USING THE TOILET BRUSH! Sy exclaimed, "DAD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? THAT'S DISGUSTING!" Which my dad then reasoned that the toilet brush was clean bc he had rinsed it in the clean toilet bowl after he had finished cleaning it. Sy (man, I love his quick logic) then asked my dad - "Would you eat off a plate that I used to clean with this toilet water??" And my dad - being the proud man that he is - refused to acknowledge that he had committed a truly heinous act in the name of sanitation - and again insisted that WE were the crazy, neurotic clean-freaks who could not appreciate his act of service to us.
I get that my dad was trying to be a good father - to help clean his daughter's house while she was recovering from having a baby - and clearly didn't have time to clean. But he didn't realize that he had now given us an extra chore of having to clean the bathtub! (I HATE cleaning the bathtub the most of all the household chores!) He took our mediocre-level clean bathtub and turned it into a bathtub that no one would want to step foot into! I wanted to strangle him!
Sigh - parents can be such a pain! They mean well - but man, they do not make life easier more often than not! Even 6 hours after my parents had left our house, while lying on the sofa, I burst out in anger - "IF HE HAD EVEN USED A NEW TOILET BRUSH - THAT WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER!" Sy burst out laughing that I was still angry and replaying this encounter when I was supposed to be napping.
This was truly an SMH moment. Emily - if you ever read this entry when you're older - I hope you know that this is what we put up with because your grandparents wanted to see you. You owe us, girl. You owe us so much.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
From size 0 to size infinity???
Pregnancy changes everything about you. Every day, I notice different and new things changing about my body. But the biggest change (at least for me) is the weight gain.
I feel like I've spent the majority of my late adulthood trying to manage my weight. I've always been either dieting to some degree or not dieting and ballooning into an oompa loompa. When Sy and I got engaged, I went into hardcore diet mode to look amazing for our wedding day. But as a result, as soon as it was the day after our wedding, I went into chips and ice cream every day mode, and then gained 18 pounds in our first year of marriage. (EEK! Haha!) I spent the first half of year 2 of marriage losing that weight, and then I got pregnant.
During the first trimester, I lost 3 lbs from morning sickness. So I really did not look pregnant at all. If anything, I was getting closer and closer to my original wedding day weight! I was loving it! (even though I was so nauseous) But once the morning sickness was over, and then I started to enjoy food again, the pounds started coming.
I must say - pregnancy is nice bc it's the first time in my life where I'm not on a diet and I'm eating whatever I want (to a degree) and not feeling any guilt. Yes, I went through my phases where I let myself go, but it always came with a side of guilt. But this time around, it's been glorious bc I don't have to feel bad about eating an extra helping of mashed potatoes! I lost weight! I was in the negative and I needed to make up for lost time!
But nowadays, as the baby is growing exponentially faster, it's really freaking me out to see the scale go up so quickly. In the past 4 weeks, I've gained 6 lbs. And instead of watching my scale go steadily down, it's been alarming to see it go steadily up - pound by pound. And while I know that this is a good thing - that baby girl is growing and getting stronger, it's just so counter-intuitive to what I'm used to. I'm used to counting calories to make sure I don't eat too much. Now I count calories to make sure baby's gotten enough to eat. Instead of eating until I still felt a little hungry, I now don't let myself get hungry bc it could bring back the nausea.
Yesterday, I had a moment of sadness as I realized my waist has disappeared. What used to be an hourglass is now just a rectangle of body mass bc my baby bump has gotten significantly bigger. I think my butt has expanded to accommodate the bigger belly, and it was surprising! I know I'm only going to get bigger - but man, is it unnerving! I know I also lean towards being obsessive about my weight, but it just makes you realize how much sacrifice we make for our children. I love this baby girl so much, but she is legit taking over my body. And I'm giving up my body, my self-confidence, my eating habits, my entire being for her - and she's not even here yet! I can't even imagine what other aspects of my life I'm going to sacrifice for her. It's hard to let go of yourself - bc it's all I've ever known. But this is adulthood - this is parenthood - this is love.
Baby girl - I hope you're enjoying mama's body. Because I wouldn't do this for anyone else. =)
I feel like I've spent the majority of my late adulthood trying to manage my weight. I've always been either dieting to some degree or not dieting and ballooning into an oompa loompa. When Sy and I got engaged, I went into hardcore diet mode to look amazing for our wedding day. But as a result, as soon as it was the day after our wedding, I went into chips and ice cream every day mode, and then gained 18 pounds in our first year of marriage. (EEK! Haha!) I spent the first half of year 2 of marriage losing that weight, and then I got pregnant.
During the first trimester, I lost 3 lbs from morning sickness. So I really did not look pregnant at all. If anything, I was getting closer and closer to my original wedding day weight! I was loving it! (even though I was so nauseous) But once the morning sickness was over, and then I started to enjoy food again, the pounds started coming.
I must say - pregnancy is nice bc it's the first time in my life where I'm not on a diet and I'm eating whatever I want (to a degree) and not feeling any guilt. Yes, I went through my phases where I let myself go, but it always came with a side of guilt. But this time around, it's been glorious bc I don't have to feel bad about eating an extra helping of mashed potatoes! I lost weight! I was in the negative and I needed to make up for lost time!
But nowadays, as the baby is growing exponentially faster, it's really freaking me out to see the scale go up so quickly. In the past 4 weeks, I've gained 6 lbs. And instead of watching my scale go steadily down, it's been alarming to see it go steadily up - pound by pound. And while I know that this is a good thing - that baby girl is growing and getting stronger, it's just so counter-intuitive to what I'm used to. I'm used to counting calories to make sure I don't eat too much. Now I count calories to make sure baby's gotten enough to eat. Instead of eating until I still felt a little hungry, I now don't let myself get hungry bc it could bring back the nausea.
Yesterday, I had a moment of sadness as I realized my waist has disappeared. What used to be an hourglass is now just a rectangle of body mass bc my baby bump has gotten significantly bigger. I think my butt has expanded to accommodate the bigger belly, and it was surprising! I know I'm only going to get bigger - but man, is it unnerving! I know I also lean towards being obsessive about my weight, but it just makes you realize how much sacrifice we make for our children. I love this baby girl so much, but she is legit taking over my body. And I'm giving up my body, my self-confidence, my eating habits, my entire being for her - and she's not even here yet! I can't even imagine what other aspects of my life I'm going to sacrifice for her. It's hard to let go of yourself - bc it's all I've ever known. But this is adulthood - this is parenthood - this is love.
Baby girl - I hope you're enjoying mama's body. Because I wouldn't do this for anyone else. =)
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
A little but big surprise!
I wrote this entry back in June when I couldn't announce my pregnancy. I'm finally getting around to posting it now.
secret entry #1
It's been a little over a week since I found out I was pregnant. What a morning it was. On Friday morning, June 16, 2017, Sy and I had agreed we would take a pregnancy test first thing when we woke up. We had a summer Friday that day, so we had the entire day to recover from whatever news we got.
I poured over the instruction manuals for my pregnancy tests, took the test, and waited. On TV, they always make it sound like it's the longest 2 minutes of your life. But 2 minutes go by really fast when you're nervous. In the blink of an eye, my phone alarm went off. We checked the first test - positive. We took the 2nd test - positive again. After the 2 positive results, I hugged Sy and started to cry. It was tears of joy but also tears of sadness. TV and movies make it seem like you're either overjoyed or depressed when you find out you're pregnant. But the reality is, or maybe it was just for me, I felt both.
On the one hand, I was happy because I had always feared a little that I would be one of those unlucky women who had difficulty conceiving. But I wasn't! I was one of the lucky few who got it on their first try. And I was happy because we had wanted to start trying to have a baby - we had felt ready for it.
But when the positive result becomes a reality, it scared me - a LOT. And I immediately realized that the life that I knew and loved had an expiration date. I've been really content with my life. I love Sy, and I love our life. It's easy and fun! But soon enough, we'll no longer be just the 2 of us. Gone will be the days of netflix binging for hours, or aimless meandering through the city, or spontaneous trips. Everything will revolve around this new baby, and our lives will no longer be ours - but this baby's. And while I know I will love this baby so much, I also started to mourn this happy chapter of our life. I wasn't ready to close this part, and I kept crying thinking about all the change that was coming our way fast.
It's crazy to think of myself as a mom. I still feel so young - even though I'm already 34 - quickly approaching the unsafe age to bear children. I also still feel like I have so much I have left to do without a child, but this is happening. And each day now feels like a countdown - which is scary but also exciting. I've always been someone who didn't like change. I think the planner in me hates to figure out everything all over again. I also don't like the unpredictability of change - I don't know what to expect. Since the day I took this test, it's been non-stop worrying. What are we going to do? Do we need to move to a bigger place? Can we afford a 2 bedroom apt? Should we move closer to Sy's family? or mine? Who will take care of the baby when I go back to work? Can we afford daycare? Do I need to get a new job? Am I going to one of those women who have terrible morning sickness? How do I hide it from co-workers? And the questions went on forever.
I am hesitant to even write this post because I don't want to be judged as a mother who is so selfish to think only about herself. But I think it's important to share the reality of things - that what we see on tv/movies and instagram and social media may not be realistic representations of how we really feel on the inside. Yes, I am excited for this little one, but I think it's normal to feel scared and unhappy about the upcoming changes. I'm going to have plenty of mom-guilt in the future, and I don't think women should have to add this to our long list of things we have to hide.
I hope whoever is still reading this blog, you will pray for and support our new little one and all the crazy things it comes with, and will help to journey with us as we figure it all out!
WOW - we're having a baby! =O
secret entry #1
It's been a little over a week since I found out I was pregnant. What a morning it was. On Friday morning, June 16, 2017, Sy and I had agreed we would take a pregnancy test first thing when we woke up. We had a summer Friday that day, so we had the entire day to recover from whatever news we got.
I poured over the instruction manuals for my pregnancy tests, took the test, and waited. On TV, they always make it sound like it's the longest 2 minutes of your life. But 2 minutes go by really fast when you're nervous. In the blink of an eye, my phone alarm went off. We checked the first test - positive. We took the 2nd test - positive again. After the 2 positive results, I hugged Sy and started to cry. It was tears of joy but also tears of sadness. TV and movies make it seem like you're either overjoyed or depressed when you find out you're pregnant. But the reality is, or maybe it was just for me, I felt both.
On the one hand, I was happy because I had always feared a little that I would be one of those unlucky women who had difficulty conceiving. But I wasn't! I was one of the lucky few who got it on their first try. And I was happy because we had wanted to start trying to have a baby - we had felt ready for it.
But when the positive result becomes a reality, it scared me - a LOT. And I immediately realized that the life that I knew and loved had an expiration date. I've been really content with my life. I love Sy, and I love our life. It's easy and fun! But soon enough, we'll no longer be just the 2 of us. Gone will be the days of netflix binging for hours, or aimless meandering through the city, or spontaneous trips. Everything will revolve around this new baby, and our lives will no longer be ours - but this baby's. And while I know I will love this baby so much, I also started to mourn this happy chapter of our life. I wasn't ready to close this part, and I kept crying thinking about all the change that was coming our way fast.
It's crazy to think of myself as a mom. I still feel so young - even though I'm already 34 - quickly approaching the unsafe age to bear children. I also still feel like I have so much I have left to do without a child, but this is happening. And each day now feels like a countdown - which is scary but also exciting. I've always been someone who didn't like change. I think the planner in me hates to figure out everything all over again. I also don't like the unpredictability of change - I don't know what to expect. Since the day I took this test, it's been non-stop worrying. What are we going to do? Do we need to move to a bigger place? Can we afford a 2 bedroom apt? Should we move closer to Sy's family? or mine? Who will take care of the baby when I go back to work? Can we afford daycare? Do I need to get a new job? Am I going to one of those women who have terrible morning sickness? How do I hide it from co-workers? And the questions went on forever.
I am hesitant to even write this post because I don't want to be judged as a mother who is so selfish to think only about herself. But I think it's important to share the reality of things - that what we see on tv/movies and instagram and social media may not be realistic representations of how we really feel on the inside. Yes, I am excited for this little one, but I think it's normal to feel scared and unhappy about the upcoming changes. I'm going to have plenty of mom-guilt in the future, and I don't think women should have to add this to our long list of things we have to hide.
I hope whoever is still reading this blog, you will pray for and support our new little one and all the crazy things it comes with, and will help to journey with us as we figure it all out!
WOW - we're having a baby! =O
Who am I?
I wrote this entry back in July, and I totally forgot to hit publish. Here we go!
For the past 3 weeks, I have been in the process of changing my name. It started with the social security office, then the DMV, and then any institution that has my name on record.
For the majority of my life, I couldn't WAIT to get rid of my last name. It had been such a pain in the butt throughout childhood. I was made fun of by other kids, I was once even made fun of by my own teacher. On top of the teasing - it was also frustrating that no one ever pronounced my name correctly. (people always call me maya joe. why??? WHYYY???)
So for these very obvious reasons, I was all too eager to change my name when I got married. But when I actually did get married, I suddenly found myself reluctant to change my name. I had been my name for my entire life - and now I was supposed to be someone else? So I dragged my feet - I took my sweet time - and postponed changing my name. I wasn't ready for the change.
But now, 21 months into marriage, I decided it was time. So I started the process. Going to the social security office was a huge pain - it took me nearly an hour to get there. But when I got there, it took all of 3 minutes for me to hand in a form, and bam! I was no longer Mia Joo. In the United States of America, my record had changed instantly, and Mia Joo was gone. As I packed up my belongings, I started to cry as I felt like I hadn't had a chance to really say goodbye to her. It happened so fast, and she was gone in an instant.
I once heard a sermon about the significance of changing your name. When you get a new name, you are given a new life. When Saul became Paul - he was a new person. He changed into a man who followed after Jesus and left behind his old ways. When I think about the old Mia - she definitely had her flaws. I would love to be able to shed those flaws, those insecurities, and those negative qualities. So instead of being sad - maybe I can take this opportunity to give myself a new life - start over - do things the way I always hoped to.
When I was a kid, I had heard about the benefit of starting over at a new school. No one knew who you were before, so you could be anyone you wanted to be. I never moved around, so my identity was always the same. I guess this is my new "school" and my chance to reinvent myself. Maybe Mia Sung will be a bold and daring woman. Maybe she'll be more outgoing and fun!
Either way - I'm taking this new life change with careful consideration. I don't want this to be just an edit on a form. I want my new name to be symbolic of a new life, a new me.
For the past 3 weeks, I have been in the process of changing my name. It started with the social security office, then the DMV, and then any institution that has my name on record.
For the majority of my life, I couldn't WAIT to get rid of my last name. It had been such a pain in the butt throughout childhood. I was made fun of by other kids, I was once even made fun of by my own teacher. On top of the teasing - it was also frustrating that no one ever pronounced my name correctly. (people always call me maya joe. why??? WHYYY???)
So for these very obvious reasons, I was all too eager to change my name when I got married. But when I actually did get married, I suddenly found myself reluctant to change my name. I had been my name for my entire life - and now I was supposed to be someone else? So I dragged my feet - I took my sweet time - and postponed changing my name. I wasn't ready for the change.
But now, 21 months into marriage, I decided it was time. So I started the process. Going to the social security office was a huge pain - it took me nearly an hour to get there. But when I got there, it took all of 3 minutes for me to hand in a form, and bam! I was no longer Mia Joo. In the United States of America, my record had changed instantly, and Mia Joo was gone. As I packed up my belongings, I started to cry as I felt like I hadn't had a chance to really say goodbye to her. It happened so fast, and she was gone in an instant.
I once heard a sermon about the significance of changing your name. When you get a new name, you are given a new life. When Saul became Paul - he was a new person. He changed into a man who followed after Jesus and left behind his old ways. When I think about the old Mia - she definitely had her flaws. I would love to be able to shed those flaws, those insecurities, and those negative qualities. So instead of being sad - maybe I can take this opportunity to give myself a new life - start over - do things the way I always hoped to.
When I was a kid, I had heard about the benefit of starting over at a new school. No one knew who you were before, so you could be anyone you wanted to be. I never moved around, so my identity was always the same. I guess this is my new "school" and my chance to reinvent myself. Maybe Mia Sung will be a bold and daring woman. Maybe she'll be more outgoing and fun!
Either way - I'm taking this new life change with careful consideration. I don't want this to be just an edit on a form. I want my new name to be symbolic of a new life, a new me.
Monday, April 3, 2017
Even if
I was at church one Sunday, and the pastor was talking about the age-old topic of what it takes to be a christian. It was the usual speech about how we typically bargain with God - i.e. I'll go to church if you help me get this job. I'll be a better Christian if you help me get a boyfriend. I'll pray every day if you get me out of this pickle. In usual pastoral fashion, he re-framed the question to say that as Christians, we should be saying the opposite - I'll go to church even if I don't get this job. I'll be a better Christian even if I am single forever. I'll pray every day even if I never get out of this pickle. To be honest, this didn't have much impact on me bc I've heard this sermon hundreds of times before. I know the answer between the "even" and the "even if" scenarios.
But something changed. I looked over at Sy sitting next to me, and I thought about our marriage. Could I apply these questions to him? I thought about our early days of dating, and how those "if" questions had been so important. I'll go on a date with him if he asks me out. I'll say I love you if he says it first. I'll marry him if I feel like he's got all the characteristics I want in a husband. Everything was so conditional. But now that we're married, there's no getting out of it - we're committed, and that's that.
So I wondered, what are the new "even if" statements that faced me now? I will love you even if we fight. I will keep fighting for our marriage even if it feels too hard. I will follow and submit to you even if I don't agree. I will be selfless even if I want to be selfish so badly. Thinking about those statements, I realized how hard it is to be married. "Even if" events will occur in our marriage for sure. There's no uncertainty about that. But I committed to be his wife, and that means that I don't walk away even when our life is riddled with "even if" situations.
As we journey further into our 2nd year of marriage, I am learning more and more that marriage is not just about creating as many happy memories as possible - it's about being there - and not leaving. I love being married, but it has shown me very acutely how nice it was when I lived only for myself. Relationships are wonderful - but they come at a cost - whether it's with your best friend, your husband, or your God, relationships require sacrifice. I still think it's worth it - even if it's harder than I'll ever imagine.
But something changed. I looked over at Sy sitting next to me, and I thought about our marriage. Could I apply these questions to him? I thought about our early days of dating, and how those "if" questions had been so important. I'll go on a date with him if he asks me out. I'll say I love you if he says it first. I'll marry him if I feel like he's got all the characteristics I want in a husband. Everything was so conditional. But now that we're married, there's no getting out of it - we're committed, and that's that.
So I wondered, what are the new "even if" statements that faced me now? I will love you even if we fight. I will keep fighting for our marriage even if it feels too hard. I will follow and submit to you even if I don't agree. I will be selfless even if I want to be selfish so badly. Thinking about those statements, I realized how hard it is to be married. "Even if" events will occur in our marriage for sure. There's no uncertainty about that. But I committed to be his wife, and that means that I don't walk away even when our life is riddled with "even if" situations.
As we journey further into our 2nd year of marriage, I am learning more and more that marriage is not just about creating as many happy memories as possible - it's about being there - and not leaving. I love being married, but it has shown me very acutely how nice it was when I lived only for myself. Relationships are wonderful - but they come at a cost - whether it's with your best friend, your husband, or your God, relationships require sacrifice. I still think it's worth it - even if it's harder than I'll ever imagine.
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