If due dates were fool-proof, I should’ve been in the hospital yesterday giving birth. But, as I’d hoped, our baby arrived 12 days early. It’s odd, though, to think that I could’ve just gone about my normal routine and could still be pregnant – which is what Matt and several of my co-workers expected. While this would’ve allowed me more time to finish up some assignments at work, I couldn’t imagine not meeting our baby any sooner.

Miles Emerson was born on Monday, Nov. 14, at 6:56 a.m. He weighed 5 lbs., 8 oz., and supposedly measured 16.5 inches. I say “supposedly” because at our pediatrician appointment four days later, Miles measured 18 inches. Rather than assuming Miles grew an inch and a half in a short amount of time, the doc guessed that the nurse who measured Miles didn’t fully stretch him out before announcing his length.

His arrival was a bit of a surprise. We went to the hospital on Sunday evening for monitoring, since I hadn’t felt much of the baby’s movement throughout the day. To make a long story short, we were asked to stay overnight at the hospital to undergo further monitoring throughout the night and testing the following day. But my contractions intensified in the middle of the night, resulting in Miles’ arrival the following morning. I have yet to journal my birth experience, which seems like a blur, but when I do, maybe I’ll post it here.

He’s a fun little guy with a full head of hair like Matt. When he has milk coma, his eyes roll around and he smiles spontaneously. When he’s awake, his curious eyes take in the world, and he seems to sleep best when he’s close to us. He’s a joy to have around, and we are loving our time of getting to know him.

(Miles at birth)

(A few days old)

With our baby’s birth approximately four weeks away (possibly sooner; hopefully not later!), the concept of family has been strong on my mind – what it means, what it looks like in my life, etc. I thought about it even more when my family was planning the celebration for my grandpa’s 90th birthday at the end of August.

For months, the relatives on my dad’s side exchanged emails about how we’d celebrate my grandpa’s birthday. We kept this a surprise from my grandparents, who had no idea that all of us (minus a few spouses) would be flying in for the occasion. The biggest surprise probably would be the appearance of one of my uncles who has been working in Japan for the past few years.

One of our gift ideas was to put together a photobook using old and recent photos, which I volunteered to gather and put into an album. I received old photos of the grandkids, hanging out with our grandparents; graduation and wedding photos; and photos from my dad’s and his siblings’ childhood both in Hong Kong and in the States. Some of the photos were even older, showing my grandpa as a teenager, a young man and a young father.

I had no idea so many old photos existed, stashed away in photo albums in my grandparents’ house. I’d known my grandparents as being elderly for so long that I’d never really thought that they were once teenagers or young adults. Even seeing my dad, aunt and uncles as kids and as teenagers threw me off. I didn’t expect the photos to impact me so much, but it got to the point where I couldn’t work on the photo book at night or else I’d lay awake thinking about the past.

At the age of 13, my dad and his family immigrated from Hong Kong to the U.S. on a cruise ship. The year was 1964. They packed up their furniture and other belongings and made their way across the ocean, making a short stop in Hawaii. (My grandparents still have the kitchen table that they brought from HK.) My dad talks about how, for the first few days, all the immigrant kids ran around the ship in their pajamas until the crew told them they had to wear regular clothes.

One of the photos that impacted me the most was from this trip (click on the first photo below). My grandparents, another couple and my dad are walking along a big street in Hawaii (looks like Oahu), palm trees visible in the background. My grandma’s hair is nicely curled, and she’s dressed in a stylish skirt suit. My grandpa, who I don’t even recognize, is wearing slacks, a collared shirt, and a thin dark tie. My dad, a scrawny little boy with big plastic glasses, is following closely behind my grandpa.

It’s my dad’s expression that caught my attention. He’s looking off ahead, like he’s taking everything in. He’s not necessarily in awe, and he’s not scared – he’s just curious. I see this look on his face even now as an adult, when he’s taking in his surroundings. As I look at the picture, I wonder what he’s looking at, what he’s thinking…and then I wonder what it’s like for a young teen to start new in a country that is so different from all he’s known. I wonder what it’s like for my grandparents to move their four children across the world, taking a risk that life will be better here. And then I realize, sadly, that there’s so much about both my parents’ childhood, their past, and my grandparents’ past that I’m unaware of.

I’m very fortunate that all of my grandparents are still alive, and I even remember when my two great-grandmothers were alive. But I know my grandparents won’t be around forever. I feel like there’s so much wisdom and experience that I haven’t gleaned from them, and I know the language barrier is what prevents me from having deeper conversations with them. I know there are ways around it…letters, asking my parents to help me when I don’t know the words in Chinese…I just need to make it a priority. On the other hand, I know that I can still take advantage of my relationship with my parents, especially the fact that they’re still in good health and speak English. I’m sure having our own kids will give me a new understanding and appreciation for them.

Another outcome from my grandpa’s celebration was a greater sense of unity among our family, especially among the cousins. All of my cousins are younger than I am, so I remember when many of them were very young. I remember holding some of them when they were born and playing hide-and-seek with them in my grandparents’ house. I also remember when they got older and feeling clueless about talking to teenagers.

But now that we’re all out of college and, in a sense, in the same stage of life, there’s a greater desire to keep in touch and to be family. We’re spread all over the country, so it’s a huge deal when we’re all back in Sacramento together. The night after our grandpa’s birthday dinner, all the cousins came back to my parents’ house to play Taboo (a rematch from the night of Kim and Mike’s wedding) and Mafia. It was probably after 10 p.m., we were visibly tired, but we all knew it was important to have that time together.

Little did I know that the next day, grandpa’s “second birthday celebration” was actually a surprise double baby shower for Kim and Mike (who had their baby a few weeks ago!) and me. Auntie Anna cooked all the food, and the girl cousins did an amazing job decorating and planning everything. I don’t like to use the throw the word “blessed” around, but I truly felt blessed to celebrate our baby with the family and to have them be a part of this exciting time. (My cousin, Traci, who is a wonderful writer, also wrote about the occasion on her blog.)

I couldn’t help but wonder what holidays will be like when my grandparents are no longer around. As the younger generations grow our families, will we branch off and have our own family gatherings? I honestly can’t imagine celebrating Christmas without being with aunts, uncles and cousins – whether they be on my side or Matt’s side. That’s what holidays have always been like, and it wouldn’t make sense not to still be a part of each others’ lives. Just thinking too far ahead makes me sad about the unknown, so once again, I have to remind myself to enjoy the present.

Next month, we hope to be driving back to California with a new baby in tow, and I’m incredibly excited about celebrating this new life with all our loved ones. I’m especially glad to have a new Christmas to get me over the hurdle of last year’s painful memories. Even hearing Christmas music is still difficult for me. But I pray that the joy of this year’s holidays will be healing.

Happy November, everyone!

(In the big family photo, my grandpa’s giving my grandma a look that says, “Who ARE these people?!”