Memorable childhood-Episode1 (好事多磨 Hao Shi Duo Mo) Good achievenment must go through many trials and tribulations

Opening up my wallet, a small rectangular black and white photo slipped down to the ground, on the back of which was hand-written three Chinese characters in vertical line: Jiu ge yue (third tune, fourth tune, fourth tune), means nine months. I picked up gently and had a close gaze at this little chubby 9 month old baby with a cheeky smile, hardly believe she's me... that might be the reason why I always keep it in my wallet just in case I forget how I look originally. Baby has to grow up, as part of the life process, which is surely unavoidable. However the childhood is always one of the most memorable parts in one's life just like an appetizer which adds a bit savors no matter if it's sweet or bitter to remark the beginning of a brand new start. My childhood was a bit more adventurous than normal, swinging between death and survival. It is really funny to say so, but at that moment, everyone was agonizing and suffocating for what it could have happened.

July 3rd, 1984, another scorching day as usual, my father needed to work from 8:00 to 17:00, 6 days a week, since my mum got pregnant in late 1983, she had spent all her time in my grand-parents' house in order to get intensive care and enough nutrition. In doing so, my grandma had set up a folding bed made out of steel wires in the sitting room for her, my mom's family was ranked as labour class in Mao's era, not rich at all, but they were allowed to have as many babies as they wanted; crammed with many family members, my mum was the second daughter among all, she's also got one elder sister, one baby sister, and two little brothers, which kept my grandparents busy all year long. As No.2, she however was the most hardworking daughter in the family. Tracing back to the early 70's, her elder sister was obliged to relocate herself to the far north of China, working in the farmland in accordance with Chinese Government policy during the Cultural Revolution, my mum at that time had to overtake the responsibility of looking after her whole family, notwithstanding bearing so much tough housework at home, she enjoyed at least the time of being with her family rather than following her elder sister's route.

I was luckily born on such a liberal date (independent day of U.S.), but sadly in a restricted country with little freedom at that period, my expected date of birth was in the end of June the time my mother was informed by the doctor, to everyone's surprise, no slight movement nor hum has ever come out of her womb; besides, this was the first time as well as the last time my mother got pregnant, lack of experience didn't really make her be aware of paying much attention to her stomach. Rather than being hospitalised, she had her whole time at home, having her mum as a company.

Until the seconds of July 3rd ticked away, my mom started to feel a spasm of discomfort coming across her womb, she quickly shaked up my father lying beside, yelling out at the same time. My dad, who swiftly escorted her to the No1 maternity and child care hospital in Jing An District, was perspiring on the whole way, and had no single idea how he could help, after all, that was also the first (and last) time for him to be a father. Everyone was forgivable at that night. 30 minutes later, since my mum was carried to the emergency room she has been staying there for the rest hours. She merely recalled that she was surrounded by a gang of people in white, busy in putting on the drips, preparing the needles, with all the clink-clank echoing around her ears. Unlike any other pregnant women, she could sense anything happened to her but pain. For the following 5 hours, she consumed most of her energy in delivery under the cadent oral instruction from the doctors: ' Yong Li (both fourth tunes; put forth your strength), Yong li, I have seen its head...'

While me and my mum were struggling inside, my father and the rest of my mum's family all of who were kept outside stayed up in anxiety. Time elapsed in an excruciatingly slow mode as if it was stagnant, even the tickering sound from the clock hung on the foyer's wall was considerably unbearable. No one dared to close their eyes in any second in case they missed the baby's first cry. They were all ears, waiting for the news slipped through the inside.

At 6:20a.m. July 4th, 1984, a memorable moment for the Wang family, a 3.7 kg baby girl was smoothly delivered. Different from other infants, I was deemed as the chubbiest baby of the month, unfortunately my mum only took one brief glance at me, and in no time I was carried into another room for first aid for the sake of the anoxia in my mum's womb.

Once my father and my mum's family received the critical illness notice from the doctor, all of them shed tears. Nothing could be done at this moment but just endless waiting. I was still in great danger in semi-consciousness. In addition to the shortage of oxygen, I was pressed a bit too hard by the doctors while being delivered, my head and body were also covered in bruises. On the other hand, my mum was suffering from starvation after using up all her strength during the delivery; she had nothing more than a spoonful of rice last night. My dad wiped away his tears, decided not to tell my mum what my condition was at that time so as for her to be out of worry at least temporarily.

Several days passed away, as my mum gradually recovered from the operation, with her usual rosy cheeks worn on her face, she felt a bit fishy why she couldn't be able to see her baby but the other patients in the same ward. She grabbed a nurse who was almost on her way out desperately longed for an answer. My father had pre-requested all the nurses that were in charge of my mum's ward not to tell my mum my current condition till I was out of danger. Thus, mum didn't really know everyone was telling white-lie to her for the whole time.

After three days, one nurse informed my father who was allowed to see me on the second floor where the incubator house was located. All the infants looked alike; my dad was too puzzled to seek me out, one nurse guided him to finally locate me, and she grinned, "this soprano is your daughter, because she's the one with big voice in the whole incubator. Congratulations!" My father gave an embarrassing smile back and embraced me with his two arms as if holding a meatball, he certainly had no clue how soft an infant would be. My mum missed me dearly, in the following day, after my father handed me to her, she was a bit amazed to see how big her masterpiece was, but delighted with pride to physically feel this love-token. Since then, a new life bumped onto the earth, with her two little fists tightly closed, was prone to fight her way through the years ahead.