16

It’s been 16 days since Bailey has been brought to this world; and that means that it’s been 16 days that I’ve been a parent. Most of our parenting time has been spent changing diapers, settling her down from her cries, looking into her eyes or trying to sleep in between her naps. So, I don’t really think I have much wisdom in this area.

However, I have been seeing my own sinfulness and shortcomings through the last 16 trying days– how short I can be with her crying with 2 hours of sleep, having a savior complex thinking that I need to do everything, and most of all, trying to show the rest of the world… that I got everything under control. Control… that’s always been my thing. I love being in control– I like to know what I am doing at a specific time at a specific place. I like to control people around me so that they do things the way I want them to. Yeah… babies don’t really go by my control. I’ve met my match. She’s more stubborn than I am.

Another thing I noticed about my tendencies is in treating her like she’s older than what she is. I have a high expectation from her even at her ripe age of 16 days, as I see babies who are 3 months or 6 months old. Oh, how I crave for Bailey to act the way that they are! Here she is, 16 days out of the comforts of Janette’s womb, having taken out of her home of 9 months against her will, now living in a large desolate room with no noise to calm her down, having to suck on her own to feed herself and having to sit in her own urine and poop… I keep forgetting that she’s gone through more trauma than we have. Yet, I expect her to fall asleep on her own, follow this regimented life structure called “EASY“, and get upset when she’s crying for our arms to be comforted… all for the sake of making our lives just a bit easier.

In some ways, I am scared to be a father. I think I’d have high expectation for my kids. I would expect her to act like a 35 year old when she’s only 18. I would expect her to be like a 13 year old when she’s 6. And trust me, I will start worrying about her not reading and doing math by the time she’s 1. I already expect her to be running by 6 months. Really, there’s something beautiful about kids being kids. Does it really matter that her clothes would need to be washed if she had a great time playing in the rain and puddles? Wouldn’t you spend $5 on much more worthless things than a balloon at the zoo? While I would want Bailey to excel and try her best in all things, I would also want to protect her time as a child.

I really hope Bailey would read our entries on this blog as she gets older. I hope she reminds me (in her tween-ish ways) to not treat her like an adult when she’s 11. (Bailey- if you want to remind me of this, don’t say it with attitude. Daddy won’t like it.)

Neighbours

I can not believe the neighbourhood we’ve moved into. We have been here less than 2 months and so we obviously don’t know these people well but we have had more of them stop over since the baby than I would ever have imagined – bringing gifts, offering to do some errands, bringing over hand-me-downs from their kids, etc. I have never lived in a neighbourhood before – going from a farm where neighbours are miles away to apartment buildings where though your front doors are side-by-side, you may never meet. This is a better community for us than I could ever have imagined. 3 babies born within the same week and add another 5 babies born this year – just from stop sign to stop sign (about 200 meters). I am so thankful for these wonderful people and can’t wait to get to know them better.

And from my perspective…

It’s obviously taken me a long time to write this post – partly because it was a bit more private and raw than I was yet ready to share and partly because I just didn’t know what to write about. There’s not much more to share about the experience in itself, because really all I have to talk about is the pain, which what else can I say except it hurt, A LOT. All I will say is a C-section with inadequate anesthetic and a baby who is really jammed in there requiring 3 doctors to reef on your body to get her out = FAIL. MAJOR FAIL. So, I suppose more of what I have to say is about how I look back on it now.

It’s difficult to say that what I feel about those hours of the birth is deep sadness when what came out of that time is the most precious little girl. I am beyond thankful for her and can’t believe how quickly and deeply I have fallen for her. I’m also very thankful for great medical care and like the doctor who delivered Bailey said to me the day after, “I don’t doubt the decision we made because she couldn’t have been born any other way, but I am sorry for the experience you had in getting her here because it was more traumatic than it should have been.” I am thankful for that woman, her quick decisions and wisdom (side note – she was definitely a Christian and spoke words of peace and trust to me when I needed it most).

Another bit of a tangent – in the days after Bailey’s birth, I heard of quite a number of people who were woken up at night or just moved in some way to pray for us. And I did feel that! I had verses running through my head throughout the surgery and in recovery. Thank you to all of you who did pray for us.

So back to the sadness…I had deliberately not made too much of a birth plan like everyone suggests because I knew how ultimately out of control I actually was. I could ask for certain things but truly, things don’t always turn out how you expect, especially in this type of situation. So I was open to whatever would happen. A C-section didn’t surprise me. In fact, hours before it got to the point of emergency, I said to Ethan, “I think I’m going to have to have a C-section” – somehow I just knew and I was fine with it. So it’s not the C-section itself that makes me sad.

I’m not trying to be overly dramatic but the best word I can use to describe what happened is violent. The experience of giving birth should be lots of things but violent? Everything from the panic that filled the room while they were prepping me, to the pain during surgery, to the complications and all the tests afterwards. It all just felt a bit like I was violated and for that I feel grief. I hear of other’s experiences and I grieve what we missed out on. And I don’t quite know what to do with that sadness, especially when it’s held up next to Bailey because it just doesn’t “fit”.

Yet this is the experience we were given and I agree with Ethan’s thoughts of the previous post – that it is good to begin parenting with no pretense of control or independence and to see the Sovereignty of God in this. I’m just still working through how to interpret all that.

So that’s it from my perspective – yup still raw, far too vulnerable for my comfort and perhaps too dramatic knowing there are other experiences out there far more difficult, but that is how I feel at this point.

Bailey – Pictures

dsc00414dsc00428dsc00448

dsc00451
dsc00456
dsc00484
dsc00495

dsc00497dsc00503dsc00504img_4744img_4749img_4753img_4765img_4793img_4808

The birth – from my view

As you may have heard, Janette and I gave birth to Bailey Abigail Park on August 16, 2010. She’s healthy and now we are home. The labor and delivery did not go as smoothly as planned.

I wrote an account of the birth about 36 hours after the birth.

Please, if you are queasy about the gory detail,s this post is NOT for you. Please be advised. This is as raw as it can get.

Birth

I was sitting alone outside the Operating Room A at St. Mike’s labor and delivery ward while a team of 10-15 healthcare professionals were hastily preparing for Caesarean section to be performed on Janette. It was perhaps the longest 25 minutes of my life.

Things all started perfectly. While there are so many people in our midst and in the world hoping for pregnancy, we had an easy start to that. The pregnancy was quite easy too, though, I guess you’d have to ask Janette for details on it. I felt great during Janette’s pregnancy. Even the first few hours of our labor was great. Janette and I were jovial in our anticipation for this new life. Even in preparing to leave for the hospital, we were checking off things that seems now to be trivial  matters in our life,– like making sure that the cat is fed and the air conditioner was turned off.

We came to the hospital and Janette received oxytocin, drug that induces labor and contraction. Things were going well. By 7 pm Janette was 4 cm dilated, and we were expecting to deliver by 1 or 2 am. The doctors were keeping an eye on how the baby was doing to ensure that there was no infection with Janette’s water being broken the night before. Everything was so picture perfect, that I even left for some food and distraction and to help Janette get a bit of rest before the real pain began.

I came back to the hospital and saw Janette on oxygen mask. I looked at the monitor and the baby’s heart rate graph looked different from before. The doctors came in a few minutes later and explained that the baby’s heart rate was dropping to dangerous levels with each contraction. They were worried about infections too. They watched for another 10 minutes and quickly decided that the baby’s health could be in danger. They decided to do an emergency Caesarean section to get the baby out.

Between that decision and the start of the operation, I was not allowed to go into the operating room. They were doing all of the prep work inside, and I was to wait outside. It’s probably a good thing to keep from an anxious husband and father who has a bad case of curiosity. Waiting 25 minutes outside in a hallway, hearing the baby’s heart rate through the doors was the longest 25 minutes of my life.

It’s funny where your mind goes when it is allowed to rest in the midst of a major life drama like this. My mind began to wander… What is the baby develops issues from this? Is it my fault that this happened? What will happen? How would I react to a C-section? What will I do if the baby dies? What would I say to Janette—how would I be able to console her with the death? What would I do if Janette dies? How will I raise this kid by myself?

What if I’m left in this world with no one? What if I don’t get to say anything to Janette before?

I look back now and realize that these were all irrational. I guess the risks were all there. I knew that they were in good, capable hands. But, mind goes where it wants to go to.

I guess this is where my faith played a huge part. Right, I know that all things happen for a reason, and there is God who is bigger than me. There’s plan and reason for all things. I started praying in my head. I wanted to let him know what I was feeling. I didn’t want to put Janette and the baby before God. It’s hard to explain, if you don’t understand that sentence. I knew that Janette and the baby were both God’s gifts, and I didn’t want to put the gift before the giver of those gifts.

I started thinking about what I had in my mind in the past 10 months about having a family. Things like the first Christmas or the first step. Her first day in school and forcing her to go to space camp. Her first piano recital and her graduation day. Her first boyfriend or the first break up. Her wedding day. All of those thoughts gave me joy and happiness. Anticipating all those good moments filled most of my mind about parenting, and those thoughts kept me going despite my complete utter fear of what it means to be a parent.

It was a good thing for me that the start of our parenthood had a rough start. For the last 10 months I have romanticized about parenthood and the baby. This not only put me back in reality, but it also helped me to realize that I was putting the gift before the giver of gift. I had to be reminded that God is in control of all things, and while I was given the responsibility to raise this child, God loves her more and, ultimately, she is His.

The Caesarean section was painful for Janette. Because of the risk to the baby, they started the operation as soon as they could. The anesthetics were not completely set in Janette’s body, so she could feel all of it. It was painful to her and certainly painful to watch.

The baby came out of Janette. That wasn’t easy either. Apparently the baby was wedged in Janette’s pelvis and the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck twice. That probably caused a bit of suffocation. She came out and took a minute or two to cry. I took a quick glimpse of her and she was white, though I was told that is normal. Both Janette and I were anxious to see her, and when we did, it was good. Janette’s face brightened as she saw her baby for the first time.

DSC00377

I want to introduce Bailey Abigail Park. Her Korean name is, “Jinjoo”. She was born on August 16, 2010 at 10:10 pm. She was 7 pounds and 3 ounces big, and she is healthy. The baby looks exactly like me. She looks Asian, with dark brown hair. Her eyes are puffy so her eyes look small too.

I know there are others who’ve been through much worse than we have. And, in no way do I think “normal” pregnancies are easier. It’s just as traumatic. Perhaps this one was easier than some because Janette and I didn’t have 24-48 hour delivery.

Continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we figure this “parent” thing out and Janette recovers from her surgery. I’m so thankful that we started our parenthood, forced to trust God. I’m so grateful that we were reminded that God, the giver of all things, comes before our kid—something we wanted to strive toward but didn’t know how it looked. We are so grateful for our experience and looking forward to parenthood.

You can see more pictures of Bailey on our gallery: