Even before marriage we talked about it. We would have five kids like my parents had five kids. It didn't matter if they were boys or girls, but we would have five kids. My wife didn't seem to mind. She was very naive and I was very idealistic.
What I didn't realize is that kids really don't always come as humans plan. We tried from the day of our honeymoon, but we couldn't have kids. At first we didn't think much about it. Then our friends, even our friends who got married after us were having kids. We were invited to baby showers and one year birthdays, but we still were the couple with no kids.
After a few years my wife and I visited a special hospital and the doctor said to me,
"You are healthy but none of your swimmers swim straight. They just go any way they want to go. You really have one in one hundred million chance of one of those getting to the place it should go."
And with his broken accent he said in English,
"I recommend you pray to the God."
This was a specialist in fertility and that's all he could come up with? More than five years passed since we were married and we knew we had to do something. We started with prayer. Just like Elisha asked for a double portion of Elijah's spirit, we asked to double our family. I was no longer asking for five kids, but any kids. Then my wife got to do some research. Her talent is her stubbornness. She can sit down for hours and study and she can never take "no" for an answer. Just around that time the government opened a program to support childless couples to try invitro.
Nine months later I found myself in the hospital delivery room. I was not there to visit a friend's baby. I was standing right beside my wife who was about to have our first child. For some reason the anesthesiologist was out that day and again there was not much more I could do but pray.
My son was born one month earlier than expected. He was so tiny the moment I saw him. The nurse asked me if this is my son. Then she said, "Would you like to hold him?" He was so fragile. I felt like I wasn't worthy to hold this life in my hands. I thought about the pain his mother had bringing him into the world and it came to this. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and he was my son. he was not my brother or my friend's son. He was my son.
I was overwhelmed as family and friends came from all over the world to celebrate. The first to come was my wife's uncle and her aunt who had a Korean restaurant nearby. They brought a dish from their restaurant called "bin-dae-ddeuk". This is kind of like a potato pancake. The smell filled the room and much of the hallway as well. Soon my wife's parents and people from church came in to share the joy. Later my mom came in from America.
My wife was still tired and pale. She looked like she had just finished a marathon, but all was forgotten the moment she looked at our son's face. He was alive and kind of giggled. There were a lot of things to do. We had to register his birth at the embassy. We had to name him and we had to make sure he and his mother were healthy, but in all of this there was a spirit of celebration.
A couple years later my wife showed me two pink lines on a pregnancy test. Very naturally our second son was born and the celebration of the miracle of life continued. I'm not dissapointed that we don't have five kids. I treasure the lives of our children. I never felt that I was worthy to be their father and it really doesn't matter because I am their father and that in itself is something to celebrate everyday.
My oldest son is in high school and tells me stories of friends in other classes who lost their young lives. He kind of jokes about it, but lets me know that school is a lot of pressure and he needs me. I always tell him that I am glad for the fact that he is alive and he doesn't have to worry about his grades or his friends. He is always my son no matter what and I will be proud of him and celebrate whether he accomplishes something great or not.
His life itself is great.
This "celebration" writing topic comes from the inkwell's creative nonfiction writing prompt.
