I miscarried in Hawaii

This pregnancy was different from the others. I hardly felt I was pregnant, except for the frequent bathroom trips. My mind was hazy, and I sort of liked it. Being high-strung and sensitive wasn’t very desirable and could lead to insomnia. I named her Sophie. Victor said it was two Sophia girls and told me how much he loved them. Oliver rejoiced at the prospect of becoming a big brother.

On 5/24 I woke up early. I tried to get ready for the trip, but I had a bad headache and felt ill. In late morning I felt I was going to collapse. I had to lie down for a nap. The bleeding continued, but I never thought I could lose the baby. I even carried Victor up the stairs into the house. In the evening I felt disoriented and confused. I had trouble having coherent thoughts. That went on for a few hours, and around 10pm Qin said I should rest: it’s okay if we cancel the Hawaii trip, it’s not the end of the world. That assurance lifted a thousand tons of weight from my shoulders. I was deeply grateful that he put my health first.

5/25 When the plane landed in Honolulu, I started to feel cramping, like what I got before giving birth. Then I felt a lot of pressure in my pelvis. I was frightened and felt helpless. I told Qin I was miscarrying. He looked a little upset but didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even ask me to sit down, etc. I carried the bags, got the luggage, then went to look for grandparents and Oliver, all the while I was in active labor. They spent a lot of time looking for Oliver’s car seat. My legs were numb. They asked me to do things but I couldn’t understand their words. Poor me, having labor while they treated me like the regular mommy.

We went for lunch at a Chinese restaurant. I hurried to the bathroom. There on the pad was a piece of blood clot, and a wad of tissue the size of a half egg. It was an organism, complete in itself. It was all the hard work my body had done in the last two months, and now it was on the pad. I thought of keeping it but didn’t, so I left it in the bathroom, my Sophie. I came out and told Qin that I had miscarried. He looked at once frightened and disgusted. Parents-in-law were silent for a little while, then carried on cheerfully because we were in Hawaii, sat in a Chinese restaurant, and ate Dim Sum. Of all the places you could miscarry, Hawaii was probably one of the nicest and also the least likely place for you to brood and reflect.

Qin took me to the Urgent Care unit at Kaiser Honolulu Clinic. A Hawaiian nurse gave me warm blankets. The doctor was a blond lady about 40 years old. She said most early miscarriages were caused by genetic problems and couldn’t be prevented. She had had a miscarriage between her first and second child, at 11 weeks. In the end she told me my pregnancy hormone was at 300, while at 9.5 weeks it should’ve been around 15,000. Something had not gone right for a while, and it wasn’t because something I did. It meant so much to me under the circumstances. In hind sight I could’ve blamed it on so many things: I didn’t take care of myself (didn’t take the lunch breaks, didn’t rest, didn’t eat enough); I felt terrible on Saturday but I didn’t rest, instead I planned, packed, and worried about every details of the trip; that night I didn’t go to the hospital and next day I went on the airplane; I carried Victor, heavy bags, and later fell down; I didn’t restrain my activities and walked long distance, etc. etc. The doctor told me it was normal to grieve, feeling sad, spacey, confused, and disbelieving.

We returned to the hotel. I felt empty and sad. I told Victor that Sophie got sick and died, and she came out of Mommy. Victor looked frightened and repeated after me, “Sophie got sick and died. How did she come out of you, Mommy?” “I want Sophie. I miss her.” Oliver asked me to have a baby, so he could become a big brother. That night was hard. I held Victor in my arms, so I could feel some comfort. I didn’t know what I’d do if I was away from my children. Their presence comforted me, and they never appeared so precious, beautiful, and loving.

On 5/26 we went to the Pearl Harbor. I sat on the stone bench while they waited in the long line that turned several corners. I overheard many tourists talking about the Pearl Harbor: some Americans, some Japanese, some Chinese, some from Hong Kong. Victor and Oliver chased the birds in the lawn. They were adorable and made people smile. Finally we went inside. The movie was sad and heroic. The loud exploding sound made Victor jump. I told them after the show that 1177 sailors were buried under the USS Arizona Memorial so they must be quiet. The pilgrimage to the Arizona was solemn. I thought how fitting it was the day after Sophie had died. Qin threw a flower to the sunken hulk of the Arizona. I saw a boy about 13-15 years old. He stared at the sunken hulk, lost in thought. People walked slowly beside him, but he remained immobile. Was he trying to imagine the 1177 young sailors perished within 8 minutes? It was too much for me. It was unbearable to look at the names on the wall. Life was so fragile, so short, and so futile. The memorial was a heartbreaking place, yet so heroic, pure, and noble. It was probably the only righteous war (besides the brutal Civil War) that the U.S. has fought. It reminded us how war could be necessary under trying circumstances.

Since then I’ve tried to be kind to myself. I rested, took time off writing, and even started a Chinese blog http://blog.sina.com.cn/yangwrites. There I had less freedom but more responses. I chatted with a few girlfriends and learned that miscarriages are much more common than I realized. I can’t say that I put it behind me, but I’m ready to move on, slowly and surely, one day at a time.

Victor said goodbye to his favorite preschool

On May 15, Thurs. Victor came home and said his left thigh ached. He said child N bumped into him on a bicycle. Victor had been hit and pushed by N many times before, but the school ultimately wasn’t able to intervene. Over time the school lost its charm to me. It made me (and some teachers) sad that Victor loved N as a playmate in spite of his impulsive, hurtful behaviors.

I examined Victor’s thigh but saw no bruises, so I let him be. At night he limped. I told him he’d feel better in the morning. He went to bed whining a little. I thought he was cute.

On 5/16 Fri. he couldn’t get out of the bed. Victor usually ran so fast I couldn’t catch him. Now he lay on his back, because he couldn’t use any force on his left thigh. When I carried him upright, he could only crawl. Was he maimed? I was terrified.

For days I’d been obsessed with the earthquake in China. Now Victor, my gentle boy, was hurt by N at his preschool, a nationally accredited school. What kind of a mother am I if I did nothing about it?

I took him to the Kaiser, because they could do X-ray on site. If he had a fracture, I’d sue the school. The pediatrics director would see him. I expected a hoary old man, but Dr. Leo was a small Asian man who looked like a teenager. His friendly, warm demeanor won Victor’s trust, and he followed the instructions precisely.

Dr. Leo put his hands on the various places of Victor’s body, applied some force and asked him if/where it hurt. Most of the time Victor shook his head. Suddenly he said it hurt. When Dr. Leo asked where, Victor pointed to his waist where Dr. Leo’s fingers pressed against it. We laughed. Dr. Leo said, “That’s good, that’s what I want to hear.”

Dr. Leo said it was almost impossible that Victor had a fractured femur, or he would have bruises and a lot of pain. Victor had a muscle sprain, so he felt deep ache after sleep, much like that a person got a back pain the next day after a car accident. If I massaged him, he’d feel better. That was a great relief. Victor was able to walk when we left the hospital. He recovered over the weekend.

On Monday I told his teachers, “Please keep him safe for 4.5 days. He won’t be here for the summer.” Ms. S was concerned when I told them what had happened. She said she wouldn’t allow bikes that day. That was comforting. I counted down the days with Victor, “Please stay safe for one more day!”

On Thurs. 5/22 I had a brief conference with Ms. S. She said she was sorry about what had happened that semester; she had a lot of challenging children, Ms. K left suddenly, she missed her and the children missed her. Next time she’d call in help much sooner before the situation got out of hand. I thanked her and said that you did your best, and we parents felt supported.

On 5/23 Friday I went to the potluck at the preschool. Ms. S was sad that some children were leaving. She gave a moving introduction to every child at the ceremony. She said, “Victor didn’t speak when he first started. Now he talks so much! He always knows the answers to my questions. He’s so ready for kindergarten.”

Victor was happy at the potluck. J’s mom left me their contact information and asked for my phone number. When I cleaned out Victor’s cubby, he realized that he was leaving for good. He cried and wouldn’t leave. The teachers comforted him but he kept crying. Ms. P said, “You’ll make a lot of new friends, Victor.” Ms. S asked if I needed any help. I said he just needed to cry. Their eyes got wet. Finally Victor agreed to leave. Ms. S left me her home phone, and I gave her our web addresses. Victor clutched tightly onto the paper with her number and seemed to find some comfort in it. Ms. P said, “Victor, thanks for all your help!” She told me, “He was a lot of help to me.”

I took Victor home and returned to work. I stayed late to finish up work and try to finalize the Hawaii trip details. I left at 8pm while the office building emptied at 3:30pm. I felt drained and a bit ill. At night I saw Ms. S’ email. She cried after reading my blog and suggested that I should send it to the school. I was moved. Victor left his favorite preschool, not voluntarily, but I couldn’t allow him to be hurt physically, emotionally, or intellectually. I was too overwhelmed to take an action against the school. I didn’t know then that I started to miscarry at 9 weeks.

Victor’s Preschool Journal (Spring 2008)

April 8: I spoke with Ms. S and told her that Victor hadn't been hit for a few days. He is more relaxed, happier and rarely talks about N. She said: "Don't tell M, I'm like Victor's bodyguard." I cannot be more grateful.

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April 9: Yesterday on the playground N hit Victor’s eyes and nose. Victor cried and went to an adult for help. I’ve had it! I told Victor to say, “I’m not your friend. I won’t play with you unless you stop hitting.” He said S told them not to say such things. I said to N you can and should. If N continues to hit you, you have to defend yourself, or I will transfer you to another school. He cried and wouldn’t go to the P Preschool. He said they do a lot of timeouts and he hated it. There’s no perfect balance between discipline and freedom. I told him to defend himself and go to the adults for help.

The supervising adult told me, “Victor loves to play with N, but N hits him. It makes me so sad to watch him get hit. It’s very sad.” If the bully maims him, I’ll call the police. The school will be responsible.

In the morning I spoke with Ms. P about the incident. She asked Victor to go to her when he needed help. I spoke with S that Victor couldn’t nap yesterday when the new girl cried. She said they moved the other kids away from her during the naptime.

S said Victor is growing. He gets hungry in the afternoon and eats a lot of fruit and snack. He ate an orange yesterday and later ate a bowl of strawberries. “You’re growing big,” S said, her face glowing with pride. I agreed to pack him some fruit or other snack.

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4/9/2008 8:11 PM When I picked up Victor, I asked: “Did you get hit today?”

Victor: “No, I played with N. He didn’t hit me or push me.”

Y: Why did you play with him? What if he hit you?

V: But he didn’t.

Y: What if he hits you tomorrow?

V: He didn’t hit or push me today.

I had to leave it at that. Fifteen minutes later I brought up the subject again.

V: I said to him, “I play with you, if you don’t hit or push me. If you hit me, I won’t play with you.”
N said, “OK.” It means he agreed. So he didn’t hit or push me today.

I am so proud of Victor.

********

4/10/2008 10:13 PM When I picked up Victor, I asked, “Did you get hit today?”

V: N hit me.

Y: Didn’t you tell him not to hurt you, or you won’t play with him anymore?

V: I told him. He hit my back. Then I hit his belly, his ugly belly.

I never saw his belly. Victor said N liked to pull up his shirt and show his “ugly” belly.

Y: Did you tell the teacher?

V: Yes, I told Ms. S and P. They told him to sit in a chair.

They don’t do time-outs, so sitting in a chair is all that they could do.

Y: Have you hit other kids before?

V: No.

Y: Don’t hit other children, not anyone else. You always tell N not to hit you. But if he hits you first, you know what to do.

V: N hit A and hurt her hand. She cried. Teachers made him sit in a chair. N cried today.

Y: Why?

V: He slipped from the slide.

3-year-old N also hit 2 tall 5-year-old children. S (a sweet, adorable girl) hit him back. NA (a boy) was so tall he looked like a teenager, but even he cried after N hit him one time. It must have hurt. Everyone finds their way to cope.

Over the years I’ve fallen in love with Victor’s classmates: S was a beautiful girl, and I liked her mother.
B was a 3-year-old cutie who looked like Oliver.
J was a handsome boy, gentleman-like, and his mother was friendly and considerate. Sometimes she swept the floor and chatted with me. Today I saw J pat girl M’s back affectionately.
R used to be sweet on Victor.
NA and F hit Victor before, but now they played well together.
Victor was fond of E, a cute boy. One day in January N pushed Victor, who fell on E. E had a bloody nose. He bled so much I almost fainted. I admired his parents for not transferring him to another class. His two elder sisters had been in this class before.
Richard graduated last year, he was a buddy to Victor.
Teddy and Nathan (the twins) were smart and friendly.
Victor also liked Michelle who graduated.
Victor said most people in his class were good, except for two.

It hadn’t always been easy. When Victor first started, he couldn’t speak English. When he peed his pants, he let the sun dry up his pants and shoes. Gradually he warmed up to his teachers. Now he adores them like Goddesses. They’re also sweet to him. P said, “Victor is our favorite.”

Victor brought toy cars to share with A and B. A looked at his cars and said, “I don’t like them.” He brought the car again next week. I asked him why? He said, “Last time I brought two cars, she didn’t like them. Now I bring one, she’ll like it.” What does he know about girls?

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4/15/2008 4:26 PM Last Friday 4/11/08 I talked to Ms. P. Victor had a good day because N didn’t hit him. P said N needed to learn to socialize: he tended to get excited and start punching and pushing. When he was frustrated, he threw things. At school Victor had self-control and didn’t let things overwhelm him, but with me he was much more expressive: clingy and explosive at times. P said some kids act out at home, and some at school. N acts out at school.

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4/15/2008 10:30 PM Today N pulled Victor’s ear so hard he cried. Victor told Ms. J and P. They sat him down. N didn’t apologize. At night Victor said his right ear still hurt.

I asked: Did you pull his ear?

He said: No.

Y: Why did he pull your ear?

V: I don’t know.

Y: Could you not play with him?

V: But he came to play with me!

Victor couldn’t say no to friendship. I could identify with that, although it made me a bit sad. Some “friend” can hurt you more deeply than a sworn enemy; in fact, they always do because they have access to your heart and/or body.

V: S went down the slide and bumped into N who was climbing up. N cried. S said, “Sorry,” so she didn’t have to sit in the chair.

Y: Can you stay away from N like other kids?

V: But N followed me when I played. I didn’t ride the bike today. Other kids did, F, T, N and NI.

How teachers respond to the hitting

The next day (March 28, 2008) I talked to Victor’s teachers: S and P. They were eager to know about my talk with the director. Perhaps they had been given the same answer and wanted to know if I had better luck.

I told them: either Victor had to leave or we should tolerate it. Victor would rather be hit every day than go to another class.

P: That’s so sweet.

S: Oh, but that is so sad. [She looked away.]

S came up with a plan: designate a teacher to shadow N every day.

I saw them doing it sometimes, but shadowing a three-year-old for 8 hours/day is easier said than done, especially on the playground. I read that an Olympic track champion once followed his 2.5-year-old boy and imitated his moves. By noon he collapsed in exhaustion. I have only gratitude and admiration for Victor’s teachers. They are on my side, and I feel supported.

Y: Thank you so much. I know how difficult this is when you have 20 other children to work with. But this is for N’s own good. I heard he’s tuned down.

S: He’s still hitting. With this plan I feel more confident.

Y: I hope he’ll change. It’s for everyone, most of all for N.

S: I know, and it’s your right to be concerned. I want Oliver to be here, so this is a family issue.

Actually I’m not sure if I want Oliver to go through this. He’ll be three in May. He has plenty of time to grow up. I don’t want it to start with N if I can help it. Oliver doesn’t know English so it’ll be hard for him to protect/stand up for himself. But, I love S and hope that Oliver will have the benefit of her guidance.

Every day I ask Victor if he was hit at school. Sometimes he says, “I don’t know.” “I forgot.” He may not want me to make a big deal of it, but I have to ask. Yesterday (April 2) he said, “N hit A twice. She cried two times because she was hurt.” A was like Victor’s “girlfriend,” although he said, “Eww.”

A part of me thinks something is wrong if a gentle child gets hit, s/he should cry and get over it. I don’t want to go to a team meeting and be pushed down to the floor. I get up and say, “My coworker is a spirited man.”

I don’t think I can ever do that. If I can, something vital inside me must have died.

How my 4-year-old practices non-violence

A pacifist gets feisty when someone hits her child.

Victor is an introvert, like me, low-key and easygoing. He loves the preschool and calls his classmates girlfriends and boyfriends, except for a few children who hits and curses. One child, N, hits/pushes Victor every day. Victor is not singled out, because N hits others as well. But he likes to approach Victor, and sometimes they form a bond. Victor plays with N and gets hit. To get back at the aggressor, he calls N "Crybaby" to make him mad. Then the conflict escalates.

One day N did some stunt. A teacher couldn't catch him. N threw a rock and hit Victor's head. N was then taken to the director. Hearing the news, I felt as if someone bashed me on the head. I complained to the teacher and director. N was put on a "program" to learn proper behaviors. I heard that he has tuned down, but Victor still gets hit/pushed every day. Since he is not hurt, I ignored his complaints, such as, N called "Victor" during the naptime, N bared his belly, N took off his pants and showed his booty (not in the bathroom). N slapped a teacher on the hand and spat on her.

Yesterday Victor said he was pushed down three times and cried three times. His teacher saw one incident at least, but didn't see Victor cry. I talked to the director again. Evidently she has heard such complaints.

Director: Don't listen to other parents' stories. You should come to the classroom and observe the children. There's more to it than you thought.

Yang: I heard the complaints from Victor, not from other parents. [I haven't spent a lot of time in the classroom but I had some observations. Once I saw N slap a teacher. Another time N chased after boy J, who didn't want to play with him. Being the selfish mother that I am, I told Victor to imitate J. But Victor couldn't behave like J to save his own skin.]

D: The teachers should intervene.

Y: A teacher cannot predict when a child is going to hit. After N hits someone, she can only sit him down and tell him not to hit, which is not effective because he doesn’t listen.

D: N’s parents came to observe him. They said he doesn’t behave like this at home. They are doing what we tell them to do. I cannot remove N from the classroom. If you want, I can put Victor in another class.

Y: But Victor was here first. [Victor has been in the class for a year and half, and N came two months ago.]

D: Technically, N came first. He has been with the Center since he was six months old. [Now he’s three.]

Y: Really? I am very surprised. Then there’s little chance that he’ll change.

D: I won’t say that. I won’t give up on any child, until we go through the program, which takes some time to complete, we cannot make him drop out. N is not a bad child. He is a spirited child.

Y: [I didn’t care to label N as any kind of child. I didn’t want Victor to be his punching bag. It's not fair or acceptable to me.] N needs to respect other people’s boundaries. Otherwise, it’s not safe for Victor to be in the same classroom with him. [N also hits other children every day.]

D: Other children also do things to N.

Y: I know Victor calls him “Crybaby” a few times to make him mad.

D: You see, you need to teach Victor to stop doing that.

Y: Comparing to hitting someone, this is less offensive; besides, it’s the only thing Victor can do. He cannot hit N back, so he calls him “Crybaby” to get back at him. It’s the only power Victor has over N. If you take that away, N still hits, but Victor can do nothing to express his anger. He is victimized and powerless. This is a vicious cycle.

D: What do you want me to do?

Y: I came to you and hope you might have a solution.

D: I offer that you come to observe, or you move Victor to another class.

Y: Victor loves his teachers. [Victor told me he needed to pee, he was probably bored. I asked him to wait a second. He climbed into my chair so I had to stand up.]

D: Why don’t you control your child? Sit down. [It was getting personal. Victor and I spoke in Mandarin.]

Y: Maybe you can understand: as a parent, I’m worried about his safety at school. In the other class, there is also an aggressive child. He’s very tall and his name starts with N. He hit Victor but not on a daily basis.

D: I’m not removing N from the class. His mother is a nursing student here.

Y: [I didn’t think this was relevant. I realized I was in the wrong political camp: the wrong race and social/economic class. I didn’t have a chance.] Will N be in the summer program?

D: Why? If he’s here, Victor won’t come?

Y: I want to know my options.

D: I don’t know at this time.

Y: I want to avoid conflict as best as I can. So it’ll be helpful if I know whether N will be in the class.

D: I don’t know.

Y: Thank you for your time.

D: You’re welcome. I’ll be here until eight o’clock.

[We both smiled.]

I came outside and asked Victor, “How about I switch you to the other class?”

He burst into tears. “No, I love Ms. S!”

“But N hits you every day.”

“Let him hit me. I want to be in Ms. S’s class.”

“But I don’t want him to hit you.”

“It’s okay. N is funny sometimes.”

“How?”

He couldn’t tell me. “I want to be in Ms. S’s class.”

There was not much I could say to that.

On our way home, we listened to a Chinese song, Sailor. He hums the lyrics:

在受人欺负的时候总是听见水手说/他说风雨中这点痛算什么/
Whenever I’m bullied I remember what the sailor said/In the storm my pain is nothing

擦干泪不要怕/至少我们还有梦
Dry my tears, don’t be afraid/At least we still have dreams

他说风雨中这点痛算什么/擦干泪不要问为什么　
In the storm my pain is nothing /Dry my tears and don’t ask why

I had low expectations for the preschool. I wanted Victor to learn English, make friends and have fun. He has done that and more, he is learning to practice non-violence. It’s easy to punch a smaller child, but it takes courage, wisdom and self-reliance to practice non-violence. Victor has taken on the task voluntarily because he won’t succumb to a bully either by withdrawing or imitating the aggressor.