M. Night Shymalan said when his children were scared, he would tell them stories about their births. I have often thought of the wisdom behind this and it seems solid. I tell mine silly stories about their childhood to tease them but not their births yet. Maybe it’s too painful for me to recollect. 

The daughter was born a week after her due date. We waited and waited. She was scheduled for the first week of April – precisely April Fools Day, which I was hoping she would avoid. That week in April was an eventful one as Easter that year fell that week and so did baseball’s opening day, a really big deal in Boston where the Red Sox are like a religion. The night she was when labor began, for sone reason, the maternity ward was packed. They did not have enough rooms so they put us in a waiting room. It was a city public hospital and a weekend as well, so they were understaffed. In fact, one of the nurses didn’t believe that we were in labor and tried to send us home. We hung on, thankfully, because if we had gone home, the daughter would have been born on our living room floor. 

Every pregnancy is different and when I think about it, fits the personality of the child in some ways.  The contractions started off slow and erratic but escalated so rapidly that the hospital staff were shocked. It all happened so quickly that they missed the window for the epidural. As such, the daughter was born amidst great pain. And she came out just as you would expect – kicking and screaming. Her legs have always been long and that was immediately noticeable. She also had my face which concerned me because I’ve never thought I was particularly handsome. One of her eyes was open and the other was shut. She looked like a hybrid of an alien and raisin. I named her after the Lord of the Rings character because I envisioned her fighting for others. Her middle is Sojourner after the civil rights icon and because I wanted her to travel and learn. Her Chinese name is noble mountain – I knew she would be tall and be a source of stability for others. Now as I write, her arrival mirrors a lot of how I functioned – a lot of seemingly nothing and then a lot happening at once. She was born in the morning of April 7, the same day as her maternal grandmother’s birthday. 

The son’s birth was completely different. He was born in one of the best NYC private hospitals and arrived on his precise due date. He came out looking perfect and his cry was mild. His labor looked a lot different than his sister’s – more attentive staff, less pain, better facilities. 

He was a handsome boy from the start. He got his looks from his mother. I named him after one of the greatest strategists in world history, a man so capable he pretty much beat everyone with his mind.  This also reflected the work I was doing at the NYPD. His middle name is Luther, after the BBC homicide detective, also reflecting what I hoped for him – that he would protect others with his life. His Chinese name has part of Bruce Lee’s Chinese name – which means something like vibration, agitator, or riser. I wanted him to emulate one of the greatest Asians who ever lived – a fighter, thinker, teacher. I wore a shirt honoring him at the birth. It had the following quote – No way as way. No limitation as limitation. 

There’s a saying I read somewhere that goes something like – When God wants to brings change, He sends a baby. 

Hopes and dreams. They still matter. So long as you have them, you can stay alive. 

This story is about them – the most precious people to me. But it is primarily about God and His story, dreams. 

You are also precious to me: