Li Tong walks into the facility where she recently had her ultrasound of her unborn child. She simply wanted a photo of her baby, which she felt she had been promised, but was never given. In her best attempt at the English language, she stood at the receptionist's desk trying to explain why she had come. No, she didn't have appointment, which aggravated the front desk girl, but, patiently, and with a smile on her face, Mrs. Tong tried her best.
I was covering as a temp tech in an out patient diagnostic center and the schedule was typically very full, but this afternoon, there was a lull. In the hope of finding something to do, I walked to the front office to find the discussion with Miss Li taking place. I offered to pull up her previous ultrasound and print up some pictures for her. Surprisingly, they let me bring her back with me. I was happy to have her tag along and I brought her into the ultrasound room and closed the door for privacy. She explained herself all over again, of how she just wanted a picture of her baby. Today was the only day she could come by, because she worked 6 days a week, sometimes 7, in a nail salon. Her husband worked 7 days week and was unable to be with her when the ultrasound was done, so she just wanted a picture to show him. Li seemed fearful, yet brave at the same time. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
As we talked, and I tried my best to understand her broken English, I found the exam and viewed image after image, looking for a "cute" picture of her baby. None. There was not one profile picture, not even a "boy" image, even though she had been told she was having a son. I went through all of them again, hoping I had missed something. Still nothing. Diagnostic images only. Not even a hand or a foot image to "awww" over. Nothing to print for her. I felt terrible. What was I to do? I asked if she could stay for a bit and offered to scan her right then and there and get some new cute pictures of her baby boy. She agreed, but wished her husband could be there with her. I promised to take as many pictures as possible so she could show her husband their son and some extras to send to family if she wanted.
Family. I scanned and she told me her story. She didn't have any family here, only her husband. They had come here from Vietnam to start working and save up money so they could bring the rest of their families over; her parents, sisters, and brother, his parents and sisters. They had both received their education in Vietnam and were accountants. They thought finding work would be simple since they both had college educations and marketable skills. Once here, in the United States of America, they learned that the accountant degree from Vietnam was not recognized, whatsoever. Neither of them could find work as an accountant, so her husband was going to go to college again in order to obtain an American college degree in accounting and she would work, then she would go to college once he found work as an accountant. They had a small studio apartment and she had found work at a nail salon. Then she ended up pregnant. She and her husband were both in their thirties, not just "kids" who didn't know better and screwed up; they actually had a plan, they actually were trying to do things right, they actually had a realistic dream of building a home and a life here in America, and bringing the rest of their families over to join them. Actually. Actually, they were thrown a curve ball. Her husband quit school once they learned they were having a baby and he went to work in the same nail salon so they could save as much money as possible in order to bring a family member over to help with the baby once he was born. They were struggling and hoped to be as prepared as possible once their son arrived. I told her that what mattered most was that their child felt love and I was certain he was going to have plenty of that.
We took some great photos and printed up a string of images for her to show her husband and some duplicates that she could send home to their parents in Vietnam. We were done taking "cute" pictures, and I noticed that she was shaking as she decided to sit down in the chair in the room. We were finished, but she stayed. She started to cry as she told me how scared she was. How much she missed her family and hadn 't planned for this at all. How tired she was. How her hands ached from working such long days and how the fumes in the salon made her head hurt. She quivered. I sat and listened. Then I assured her that yes, it can be scary and overwhelming, but it is all worth while. Her life was changing; she was a mother now, and when she held her son for the first time, when she looked at her boy, everything would seem right and she would know it was all going to be okay. I told her of my little one (not so little any more) and of some of the struggles we had faced and how there were times we ate the same thing for dinner every night for a week, but what mattered was that we were safe, healthy, and had each other. She hugged my neck and thanked me for listening and understanding. Tears filled her eyes as she told me that I was the first person to have listened to her since she came to America.
Before we opened the door to walk to the front office I told her how I admired her bravery and strength and I truly believed that God was with her and her family; that everything was going to turn out just fine.
At the end of my day, I reflected on how much we, in America, seem to expect to have this or that, to have it all, and how we expect to be treated...as though it is our right. We expect a baby shower for our baby. We expect our family members (at least our mothers) to help us out when the baby arrives. We expect to live in a nice house, work a decent job, have days off, and have our spoken language understood. We EXPECT. But, all Miss Li wanted was to know that she would be able to feed her baby and have a way to give him a home. She was happy with her tiny studio apartment and was grateful for the work, even the long hours she and her husband had to work. She didn't complain, she just worried; worried about the kind of life she would be able to give her son and the life her parents and in-laws back in Vietnam would have...and when they would finally be able to come to America, The Home of the Brave.
May we find gratitude for the simplest things in our life...and may we remember people like Li Tong who give everything they can to provide for their family and unborn children. Through courage and bravery they create a good life for their loved ones.
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