Love in the Time of SARS and War

We grew up only 20-minutes away by car.  Los Angeles was and still is big enough that we would have never met except for a pandemic super-flu and a civil war.  The fact that we met and married goes to show that God can make good out of evil.

Logo of the United States Peace Corps.
Logo of the United States Peace Corps. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was set to graduate in 2002 and be a Peace Corps volunteer in Xian, China.  Two weeks before I would leave to DC for Staging, I received a disappointing call: the Peace Corps program in China was canceled indefinitely due to SARS.  All current volunteers were being evacuated immediately.  My goal to get into a Tier 1 MBA school and then work in a prestigious investment bank was based on getting this work experience in China.  China was where the money will be in the future and the only way I could afford two years’ worth of experience in China was through the Peace Corps.  I didn’t think about the poor people getting sick in China from SARS, or the fear people felt from this super-flu.  I only cared about my own dreams.  Even to this day, I associate SARS to how my roadmap to become a high-flying investment banker was burned.

I tried to find new meaning in my life for two years, working in the private sector, before I decided to sign up for the Peace Corps, again.  This time, it’d be a two-for-one: I’ll get both an MBA and Peace Corps’ experience at the same time via the Master’s International Program:

While I was getting ready for my Peace Corps assignment, my future wife was getting ready to evacuate from hers.  Anne Marie and her fellow volunteers were in Nepal for less than a year before the Nepalese Civil War intensified.  The Maoists bombed a U.S. facility in Nepal on September 10th; exactly six years later, our first daughter, Maya, was born.  Three days before my 25th birthday, Anne Marie left Nepal.  She didn’t quit the Peace Corps.  Instead, she signed up again and was given two years in Guatemala.  The threads God were weaving in His Tapestry brought the patterns of our lives closer together.

God weaving threads of our lives into a tapestry

Continue reading “Love in the Time of SARS and War”

Another Miracle for St. Anthony of Padua

Praise God!  Glory to Him and bless the Communion of Saints!  And, (oddly enough), God bless United Airlines.

This past Saturday, I lost my Amazon Kindle Paperwhite on my flight from SFO to Las Vegas.  I did not think I would ever see it, again.  I filed a claim, but they didn’t give me a claim number.  So, I assumed my claim would go into the ether and be forgotten.

St. Anthony of Padua | Doctor of the Church

When I went to Mass on Sunday at the Guardian Angel Cathedral of Las Vegas, I prayed to St. Anthony of Padua, the patron saint of lost articles.  I asked that if it was God’s will, that St. Anthony would help intercede for me and ask God to help me find my Kindle, again.

Continue reading “Another Miracle for St. Anthony of Padua”

Shroud of Turin Going on TV | New York Times Reports

 

shroud-of-turin
Close-up of the Shroud of Turin | Face of Christ?

The Shroud of Turin is one of those Christian miracles that have garnered so much attention that there is a name for its scholarly study: Sindonology.  It’s existence is fascinating.  When I was going through Catechism, I found myself asking: why don’t Christians talk about these miracles?  Shouldn’t their existence convert more people?  Our new Pope Francis certainly hopes so.  This past Good Friday, the New York Times reported that a new introduction by Pope Francis was added to a previously-made documentary on the Shroud of Turin.  I would like to see that documentary if there are subtitles in English.

There are so many miracles in recent history.  Why aren’t people talking about them?  I must be naive to think these miracles would convert souls…

The Supernatural Case for Catholicism

Our Lady of Guadalupe.
Our Lady of Guadalupe. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Shameless Popery wrote an article about including supernatural events when making the case for Catholicism (or to the Christian faith, I’d say).  I am also guilty of the tendency to use only logical arguments to defend my faith.  The article by Joe Heschmeyer challenged me to reconsider this tendency.  So, I think I’m going to look into several miracles and write about my personal miracles.

These are some of the miracles that I’d like to look into:

  • The Lanciano Miracle
  • The Shroud of Turin
  • Fatima
  • St. Bernadette of Lourdes
  • St. John Vianney
  • Our Lady of Guadalupe
  • Statue of Akita
  • Therese Neumann
  • Marian Apparition of Zeitoun

These are some personal miracles I should at some point write about:

Story of Hana’s Birth

Hana Therese Chiang was born on a rainy evening, November 29th, 2012.  We barely made it to the Methodist Hospital in time; my wife already felt the need to push as we went down the elevator to Labor & Delivery.  All told, we were in the hospital less than 30 minutes when our second child came into the world.

[instagram url=http://instagram.com/p/TkE_mDQKJ3/ width=400]

We didn’t intend to cut it so close.  We wanted to put our two-year old, Maya Elise, to sleep at my parents’ home before going to the hospital.  Maya wouldn’t fall asleep even after an hour.  We could hear her voice faintly in the cool and calm evening, screaming abandonment at our sudden departure.  I wiped the sad raindrops from our windshield as we left Maya with my parents.

We should’ve gone immediately to the hospital after Maya’s dinner and bath.  The contractions were getting closer, but still manageable at that point.  Had we done so, the hospital staff would have had time to get my wife a proper bed, prepared her with an IV solution in her arm, filled out the standard intake forms and Dr. Morrison would not have already gone home for the evening.

As the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20.  There was no sense in beating ourselves up.  The contractions were doing a fine job of that already.  Our immediate task was to divert attention away from the pain with breathing and visualizations.  Think happy thoughts.

It’s not exactly hypnosis, but I don’t know how else to describe it.  I didn’t use a gold watch and ask my wife to follow it with her eyes as I swung it back and forth.  I did use my most calm and soothing voice and insist that she look at me and breathe with me.  “Take a deep breath and moan when you exhale,” I’d say.  The contractions were hitting her hard while we were on the road.  My wife was getting nervous.  “We’re almost there, sweetheart — breathe with me!”  Her sweaty hands clenched mine tightly as I drove the wet roads with my other hand.  “Don’t worry, my love, we’re still an hour away from active labor.”  That, of course, turned out not to be true.

The nurses were scrambling for a bed and equipment while I tried to keep her from pushing.  My wife dropped to her knees in pain.  She held onto my hands, but gave me a look of fear.  “I want to push!”

One of the nurses stopped what she was doing, “Don’t push, dear, the doctor’s not here, yet!”

“Deep breath… Moan!  Uhhhhhhh!”  I moaned right alongside her.  “Relax… Deep breath… don’t push, relax the muscles — moan, uhhhhhhh!”

The water broke.  The nurses came into the room with a delivery bed and my wife immodestly ripped off her clothes and slipped into the hospital gown.

“There’s myconium,” a nurse said as she checked my wife’s labor.  I looked between my wife’s legs: yes, that looks like baby poo to me, too.  This means fetal distress and usually calls for a C-section.  Fortunately, we were too far along active labor for that.  There was a real emergency, though, because Hana could end up breathing the myconium into her lungs.  The nurse will stick a tube down Hana’s throat, suck out the afterbirth, and check to see if there’s any signs of myconium in the lungs.

“Where’s Dr. Morrison?”  My wife a asked.
“He’s on his a way,” replied a nurse.
“Should we get the epidural?”  she asked me.  Her brow was already covered with huge drops of sweat.
“Dr. Morrison is almost here,” I replied.  “Only a few more minutes.  The epidural will delay for an hour or more.”  My wife nodded in agreement.  The need to push came again.

My wife is literally a hero.  Courage, endurance and patience against an onslaught of pain.  Between each contraction, I tried to focus her on breathing, relaxing and preparing for the next wave.  I described visuals of Guam, Hawaii, and Moganshan.  I reassured her that Hana was okay.

Her eyes would bulge as she stared into mine.  I smiled, “You’re doing great!  I’m so proud of you.  You’re amazing!  Breathe with me — deep breath, uhhhhh!”  We kept that up for over 20 minutes.

When the doctor finally arrived, my wife only needed a few pushes and Hana was out.  We didn’t need to push with Maya.  The doctor we had then, Dr. Fong, insisted that we not push and let the uterus do the pushing.  Perhaps there was more of an urgency this time because of signs of fetal distress.  The pushing caused a bit of tearing.  Hana was also bigger than Maya at birth: 7lbs, 6oz compared to 5lbs, 3oz.

Hana latched on quickly.  I was back at my parents’ home before midnight to put Maya to sleep.

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