He Knows Me by Name

I've been meaning to write a blog for a while now, but I've either been too busy or too lazy. Since I want to write about my experiences, I'll start from the beginning. It's a story about my mother and how I came to this world.

My mom had really poor health due to the bad living conditions in China. My grandparents were told that she probably won't be able to make it pass infant hood. And miraculously she survived! Although weak in health, she strives to live on happily and looking forward to a brighter future.

My grandparents, aunts and uncles immigrated to Canada in the early 1980s leaving my mother behind with one older brother. Both of them waited to reunite with the rest of the family (this uncle was married by then and had 2 sons). During the time away from the rest of the family, my mom had to learn to take care of herself. Instead of improving her health, she had to do all the chores at home (cooking, cleaning and farming). She took care of her nephews while she got bossed around. It was kind of like a Cinderella story, except there was no fairy godmother, no Prince Charming (my dad was not one haha) and not yet a happy ending. Her health was very poor and it only got worse.My parents got married in the late 80s. It wasn't until early 1989 that my mom and uncle received notification that their application to immigrate to Canada has been approved.

My uncle and his family packed and left by spring 1989, which is around the time my parents got news about me coming! :D However, my mom was told that her current health situation was not suitable to have a baby. This was discouraging, but my mom felt really strongly about giving birth to me. She had very high blood pressure and her body was swelling. My dad worked in the city, so at this time she moved in with my dad. The doctors in the city were better than those in the rural areas, but were still not good enough. Their answer was the same, either the baby or the mother lives. However, my mom did not give up. She had high hopes that when she goes to Canada, the healthcare would be much better.

In December 1989, my mother finally boarded the plane that took her to Newfoundland, Canada. Since healthcare and technology was more advanced in Canada, it gave my mom a lot of hope to bring me to this world. She landed at the airport in St. John's, Newfoundland and was taken to a small town called Clarenville where her younger brother lived during this time.

During the following weeks, my mom continued to have health complications. The doctors in Clarenville had no choice but to send her off to the closest 'city'. My mom stayed in a hospital in st.John's for a few days. On January 23rd her blood pressure rose again and the doctor said that the baby has to come ASAP! The nurses and doctor got ready. I was born around 4:00AM on the 24th; one month premature and tiny, weighing 4Ibs 8oz.

After I was born, the doctors and nurses took great care of my mom. A good family friend was visiting her and brought her Chinese food almost every day. My mom only eats Chinese food, so if this friend had not visited she'd be starving. Soon she was healthy enough and the doctors said that we can be discharged from the hospital, but there was one problem... The baby needs a name. They needed to fill out the forms for my birth registration and certificate. Since my mom didn't know any English, she asked the family friend to help her out. The friend (Auntie Pansy) suggested for me to be named after the hospital so I can remember where I was born and that it was a beautiful girl name as well. I was born at St. John's Grace hospital and so my name is Grace.

It wasn't until recently that I've realize how great and beautiful this name is. In fact, I used to hate it a lot. Why? Because I was the only one with this name throughout all of my school life. I've never met another Grace from elementary to high school (and even university). To the mentality of that Child I was back then, my name wasn't cool. I had wished that my parents would've given me a name with at least 2 syllables, cause everyone else had that. My name not being common made me feel that it wasn't a real name at all. Plus, it was a name so difficult for my family to pronounce, so my Chinese friends always made fun of me. (And thank goodness my parents weren't the ones who chose my name, it definitely would've been worse! Haha). 

Getting back on topic, now that I took the time to reflect about my story I realized that this name was given to me by God. By God's grace my mom and I made it to Canada and are alive today. God brought me over here to write a whole new story. I am thankful that God had sent those friends into my mom's life. The amazing help she received as a new immigrant and as a new mom (my dad was still in China and it was very hard for her to adapt). I am thankful that it wasn't all a coincidence that I've been brought half way around the world to Canada, so that with the better technology and healthcare my mom and I had been saved (the more literal meaning). It wasn't a coincidence at all that Grace became my name. But instead, God knew me before I was born and he had this name chosen for me. Thank you Father, I love my name.