Almost 39 weeks

Well, it looks like the daily pep talks with Pookie Bear worked: she has stayed cozy and warm inside my uterus through December, and now we are on the eve of our 39th week of pregnancy together.

I’ve felt and thought this the entire pregnancy, but I am so happy and grateful to have had such an enjoyable and relatively smooth pregnancy to date. I still can’t believe she is coming, and soon we will meet our little Pookie Bear baby. I’ve also enjoyed every single one of her movements, whether they have been kicks, pounds, squirms, wiggles, turns, and even her tiny little hiccups. Even when they have been painful, like when she’s kicked me in my ribs or given me sciatica or piriformis pain, I still love each feeling and just feel so blessed to have gotten this far with her. Sometimes, I just can’t believe how lucky I am, and I rub my belly and remind myself that this is all real, that my little baby is almost here.

In the beginning when I could feel her movements, she would get excited and move a lot after exercise, meals, cold drinks, at bedtime, and in the middle of the night. I still fondly remember waking up feeling startled, just to her little somersaults in my uterus. As time progressed and she got bigger, she’d get excited on plane rides, especially during ascending and descending. She loves being in festive, rambunctious events like Auria’s backyard food and beer event, and she moves a lot during those events, as though saying she wants to be included in the fun. She also kicked a lot during calls and presentations when I did a lot of talking. And she absolutely loves comedy and live theater; she never stopped squirming and turning during those live events.

I hope this is all indicative of the person she will become: someone who is lively and boisterous, loves good conversation, live theater, comedy, music, and events, travel, and delicious food. I’m so excited to meet my little Pookie Bear, and she has a throng of people who already love her and are eagerly waiting to meet her, too.

Cooking frenzy

I pride myself on productivity and efficiency. It’s a little disgusting to think about it, but I do. I have a hard time not doing things, and I know I get it from my mom. Chris calls me out on this all the time, as does my best friend, and this obsession certainly has not let up with Pookie Bear’s pending arrival. In fact, I think her pending arrival has only made the obsession worse with my to-do/checklist.

I was able to get my hair cut and highlighted yesterday, so that ticked off another big thing I wanted to get done before baby’s arrival. So what next? MORE FOOD! This afternoon, I made chicken satay and its accompanying peanut sauce with Sambal Lady’s new spice blends, stir-fried Chinese pea shoots, two mason jars’ worth of XO sauce using Eat Cho Food’s simplified recipe (the entire apartment smells like seafood now in the form of dried scallops and shrimp!), scallion oil noodles mixed with seaweed, and Instant Pot masoor dal. That’s six things in the span of one afternoon. And I still want to make tomato onion masala and potato leek soup (with the remaining leeks from Thanksgiving). The freezer is running out of space for me to add prepared food into, so now I’m going to need to figure out where to put all this tomato onion masala for quick Indian meals once I make it. The nesting instinct has gone on overdrive.

Belly attention from a little boy

I got into the elevator this morning to go down to the gym for my workout session, and my belly was clearly on full display. We’re at a point of the pregnancy now where it’s pretty hard to hide my pregnant stomach. And keep in mind that most of my workout tops are pretty loose fitted, yet despite that, the belly is *still* sticking out. In the elevator when I got in was a dad and his young son, who I later learned was 3.5 years old. As soon as the little boy saw me (or, well, my stomach), he broke out into a huge smile (that I could notice even with his mask on), and he immediately started patting my belly and hugging it with his short little arms. He then started repeating, “baby, baby,” and put his face into my stomach.

I thought this was the cutest, most adorable thing in the world. Granted, yes, there is something to be said about learning that touching a stranger, especially someone’s stomach, is kind of inappropriate, and this kid likely needs to learn about physical space and boundaries. But I couldn’t help but find this completely endearing and amusing. It was so heart warming. The dad was immediately mortified as you’d expect, and he lightly scolded the boy in Japanese to stop and to get away from me, which the boy reluctantly complied with. The dad then explained that the boy’s mom was pregnant with their second child, and that the boy really loved patting and holding the pregnant belly, so he was likely excited because of that when he saw my belly sticking out.

Oh, kids. They just do the darndest things.

Goodbye to a matriarch

This afternoon, we received the sad news that Chris’s paternal grandma had passed away at age 92. Last year, she celebrated her 91st birthday, and about 20 years of living independently on her own in the house she once shared with her husband, who died in 2000 from cancer. Shortly after that, she suffered a fall at home and decided the time had finally come to move out of this home and into an aging care facility. She seemed to have been in good spirits about it all, and from photos we’d seen, she looked to be in relatively good health. But in the last couple of days, she had been hospitalized for a high fluid build-up, shortness of breath, and extreme fatigue. Her heart has a leaky valve, and so the doctors said she needed hospital care. Despite her fluid levels decreasing and her breathing becoming more easy, she didn’t make it. And after requesting a shower, she peacefully passed away on a chair in there, with the nurses finding her.

It is sad that this global pandemic prevented us from seeing her last year. It’s sad that she wasn’t able to see a lot of her loved ones as often as she would’ve liked last year due to COVID-19. Chris always said that each time he saw Nana, he feared it may be the last time he’d ever see her. And in December 2019, it really was the last time we’d ever see her in person again.

Since first visiting Australia with Chris in 2012, I’d seen Nana nearly every year, with the exception of 2017 when we went to Hamilton Island for a cousin’s wedding, and 2020, when we were prevented from going back due to the global pandemic. Every year, I marveled at how healthy, happy, and alert she seemed. Despite her advanced age, she was always so sharp. She knew where the smallest and most insignificant things were in her house. She shared very detailed memories from Malaysia and her time adjusting to living in Australia. She still cooked and cleaned and gardened. She had the help of a family friend nearby, plus all her family. She was fortunate and blessed enough in her 92 years to live in three different countries, raise three children, who each had their own children, and some of those children were able to give her great-grandchildren. She lived a full and happy life and was always so positive. She’s definitely an inspiration not just to her family and friends, but to those who knew her. Every time I saw her, I thought, wow. If I could grow old to her age and feel that accomplished and loved and full of life, I think that will be a life well lived.

I’m sad that this little baby that is growing in my body will never be able to meet Big Nana, and that Big Nana will never have the chance to meet her. But I know for sure that Nana has left quite a legacy behind that this future child will hear plenty about.

5-year wedding anniversary

Today marks five years since our wedding. We technically got together as a couple in January 2012, which is the anniversary that Chris says counts more. That has a lot of validity, but the wedding anniversary still “counts” to me. We don’t really do anything to “celebrate” it, as in we do not exchange gifts or go out to a fancy meal for this anniversary. In fact, if I remember correctly, for our first wedding anniversary, we just got halal food that cost $6 per box from the famous 53rd and 6th Avenue cart. Yum, chicken/lamb and rice, although they have since gotten rid of the lamb as an option because they said it’s too expensive.

It’s made me sad to hear all the stories that my friend’s been sharing when she felt unappreciated, unheard, and unseen by her boyfriend of 10 years. One of the recurring issues seems to be when she’s been in a bridal party at a wedding or performing dance at a wedding, and because of her involvement, she misses some of the drinks or canapes during cocktail hour. While she’s scrambling around, she’s hoping her partner would have saved her some food or at least a drink, but wedding after wedding (and there have been at least 3 or 4, including my own) where she has performed or been in a bridal party, he’s failed to deliver. Even after the first or second time when she’s asked him to do it next time, he would make excuses, get defensive, and say he “had no place to put it!” She would try to brush it off, but after so many times of it happening, she realized that he didn’t even want to try to do something she wanted.

I thought about the one time I was in a bridal party and how Chris saved me food and drinks during cocktail hour while I was busy taking bridal party photos. I had at least one of each canape on a plate ready to be eaten. And when I got into bed this evening, I told him I loved him and appreciated him always saving me food.

“Huh? Ythi, you’re going nuts… talking to your friend and thinking about your own situation,” he mumbles sleepily in his half-asleep stupor.

Well, appreciation also needs to be stated…

When life ends during the pandemic

In the last year, a lot of people around the world have died due to COVID, whether it’s directly or indirectly. But regardless of COVID’s spread globally, there are also people who have died whose deaths had nothing to do with the Coronavirus. A friend’s dad passed away after a multiple years’ long illness last November. And this past week, my mom’s best friend’s husband passed away. He’d actually been sick since 2015, which is why they couldn’t travel to our wedding in 2016. So while his prognosis wasn’t great in 2015-2016, when I look back, it’s at least a comfort to know that he got six more years of life with his loved ones than anyone had originally predicted. It was sad news to hear for me, especially since, regardless of only having seen him a number of times during my visits home, he always held me in high regard and frequently asked about me and talked about me, apparently almost like I was his own daughter. He even used to watch all my YouTube videos as soon as I’d upload them. He and his wife had the notifications on my videos turned on, so they always knew immediately when I launched a new video. His wife would message me every now and then on Facebook, letting me know how excited he was to see me on their big screen TV. It was always so sweet.

Every time someone from my parents’ generation passes that I learn about, I get a little bit uneasy. We all know that in a regular, conventional life, parents will pass before their children, so it’s only in time that I will have to experience the terrible pain of eventually losing my own parents. And that reminder is really scary. Even though they live 3,000 miles away, I still think about them every day, and I still speak with them at least once a week. You can’t predict the future or when events will happen, and that unknown just kind of sits there in the back of my mind. It is not a great feeling. So the next thing I think about is… what am I supposed to do with the time I’ve got left with them? What else can I do?

Treats galore

In a holiday season when a pandemic continues to loom over us and we cannot travel while still being socially responsible, we are unfortunately home bound… with no line of sight into when we will be able to safely get on a plane. Being unable to see family and friends, not to mention travel, has been pretty awful. Yet somehow, they’ve still thought about us and have sent us delicious gifts. Yesterday, Chris’s cousins sent a cheese and cracker gift basket. Today, we received Magnolia Bakery cupcakes and banana pudding from Chris’s parents. I still have Levain cookies and brioche I got with my team bonding credit from yesterday, plus our leftover baked goods that I made for our building staff. We have endless treats in our apartment, but with just the two of us to eat them…. who know when we will ever get through all of this?!

Cash as a gift in Asian households

When I was young, I always thought it was a bit odd that family members, other than my aunt who lavished gifts on me constantly, always gave me cash as gifts. It didn’t matter if it was Christmas, my birthday, or Chinese New Year (well, Chinese New Year is always cash…), but I always just expected to get cash. In my white friends’ and more Americanized Asian friends’ homes, everyone always gave… you know, real physical gifts as presents. They’d choose a shirt, a sweater, a piece of jewelry, a toy… something that they thought the receiver would like and appreciate. I always wondered why my parents didn’t take the time to think about some thing that I could potentially like and give it to me.

Looking back now as a thirty-something adult, I realize that this thought was truly immature and lacking perspective. I had no idea how good I had it then… at all. As an adult, I am still, until this day, given cash by my mom and my dad. My dad would just give it to me (he’s a man of few words, just actions, as you can tell). And my mom would just say, “Well, I don’t know exactly what you like, so you can choose something you like when you want.” It is such a privilege to be given… MONEY. PERIOD. It gives you freedom to do what you wish with it – spend it on something you know for sure you will like and appreciate (or need… hello, groceries and bills?!); save it for a rainy day; invest it to make the money grow. It is a privilege to have family and friends of enough means who actually are capable of giving you money. I don’t know who you are as you are reading this, but how many times have you received an actual gift that you thought was absolutely hideous, or just didn’t fit what you wanted or needed at that time? Isn’t that pretty much all of us? Doesn’t that high potential end up leading to a lot of wasted time, money, and actual objects that would ultimately get wasted and likely thrown into a land fill?

But money? Money never fails. It can always be used. No one will ever throw it away.

I thought of this today as I received a check in the mail from my dad for Christmas. He wrote a short but sweet note, wishing us a merry Christmas in New York. I haven’t seen my parents for Christmas since 2011, but it hasn’t been a big deal since my parents don’t really celebrate Christmas anymore with my mom being a JW. Plus, since 2013, I’ve been coming home at least three times every year. For some reason, this time when I received this gift, I just felt a little empty. I definitely do appreciate the gift. But it made me wonder when I’d actually see my parents in person again with this looming virus and no end of this pandemic in sight.

The little influences

Whether you are aware of it or not, if you have an older sibling, you have probably been influenced in one way or another by this person. Growing up, even though my brother and I certainly fought and didn’t agree a lot of the time, I was influenced heavily by him in ways that I was not aware of at all until reflecting on it as an adult. My first music interests were most obviously influenced by him, as he was the one who exposed me first to tapes, then to CDs, then to mp3s, then to concerts on television and even live. When Ed was interested in Mariah Carey and Janet Jackson, so was I. Whatever CDs Ed bought in the ’90s, I listened to, as well.When Ed got into Shania Twain, I also followed him. And when he would play songs on repeat over and over again… even now, long after his passing, I still do the same thing when I get obsessed with a song. I just don’t openly tell anyone that. Except now, I don’t have to annoy anyone with the same song being played on repeat on the living room stereo; I just do it via my earbuds on my phone.

I was thinking about this a lot while reading The Meaning of Mariah Carey, and after as I got nostalgic for her music in the ’90s and 2000s, especially her live music, which I always thought was so powerful and tear-rendering. Ed was the reason I became so obsessed with everything about her: her personality, her music, her lyrics, her life. Even when Ed didn’t care for her music much after she released Butterfly and later albums from 1997 onward, he still cared. I knew it because he would still buy her albums, and he’d say they were “for me,” even though he still listened to them.

When Ed passed away seven years ago, my parents and I were trying to figure out what to do with all his belongings. Given that CDs are now obviously obsolete (do you even own a CD player anymore?!), I especially wasn’t sure what to do with all these albums… he had CDs. They filled up an entire shelf in the living room. And even if I may never listen to them again, even once, there was really no way I’d want to give up any of the Mariah Carey CD albums just for nostalgic reasons. So I told my dad to leave them all there and that, “I’ll figure it out.”

No, I still haven’t figured it out, even seven years later. I kind of just want them all to stay exactly where they are, just so that I can look back at that shelf and remember the time when he was healthier and a little happier, playing the music he loved that he got me hooked on, as well. I suppose in that way, when I listen to Mariah’s music, it ties me back to him and helps me remember his sweet, generous, loving self.

Premonitions

While I was in Indonesia, I woke up from a disturbing dream, during which one of my close friends called me to let me know that she broke up with her long-time boyfriend, someone who she thought she would marry in the next year or two. Breakups never seem that bad… until the couple has been together a considerable amount of time, have shared assets, a shared apartment, etc. And that’s what this would have been. I had some feelings based on their exchanged behavior in the last few times seeing them that made me think that maybe this wasn’t going to be “happily ever after,” but with friends, you can never really openly share when you think their romantic relationships look like crap; that is judgment best kept to yourself until the appropriate time, when your friend actually comes to you and explicitly asks for your opinion. The latter pretty much never happens until after the relationship is done with, but you know, you have to be respectful. I haven’t always been tight-lipped, and well, I’m growing up and finally learning my lesson to just listen and not say too much too soon.

So tonight over drinks, she told me that they were having issues, and she wanted to chat with me separately about it. He was with us in a small group at the time, so she couldn’t be as open as she wanted, but I could tell just based on the look on her face that it wasn’t going to be good. She looked pretty dead serious. And for another kicker, I could also tell there was someone else in the picture, as well.

Maybe it’s like we’re family after all these years; you just get feelings that things aren’t right. My mom always told me that she would get weird premonitions in her dreams, and I get them, too, occasionally. They’ve been less frequent in recent years, but when they do happen, they feel spooky.