Polar Nights

We decided to boycott the holidays this year as a way to say good riddance to a pretty gnarly year.

Three weeks in Europe and Boston were just what we needed to have some time as a couple to get away and retool for the coming year.  First stop on our  trip was something on our "life-bucket-list" - to see the Northern Lights.  It did not disappoint.

It took us 24 hours of traveling to arrive in Tromso, Norway.  It's a nifty little town of about 75,000 inhabitants.  It's located completely within the arctic circle in the northern Norway at 69.6 degrees latitude (SF is at 37).

The main attraction is the Northern Lights, a natural phenomenon caused by the interaction between solar particles and the Earth's magnetic field and atmosphere.  Depending on the night, and the type of interaction, the sky appears shades of greens, blues, purples, and reds.

It was quite a chilly 20ish degrees throughout the "day".  I put "day" in quotes because in December, at this latitude, the sun actually does not rise above the horizon.  It's called a Polar Night.  It sounds cool, but it's super-disorienting.  You're never quite sure what time it is.  It's always dim and dark outside.

We both really like it, though.  It's an apt way for us to end our horrific year with a few polar nights. The juxtaposition of the endless night with the beauty in the sky is how we have felt all year.  Points of light and beauty amidst all the pain and seeming injustice.  For a moment we got to lay down on the ice, look up, and see God's creativity in the sky.  It was magical.

8 Months

Eight months ago, my son Louie, passed away shortly after birth.

I miss him terribly and think about him everyday – which might seem odd, because – really – I never got to know him.  I held him for just a few moments before his heart slowed and eventually stopped.

There have been some lonely and dark days these past few months.  The now empty room where he should have grown up - mirrors the void left in my own heart.  But with whatever days I have left to live I will carry this precious void within me.   Close to my soul, without shame, and without regret. Silent.  And Powerful.

Louie, you will be my constant reminder that every life matters, every moment is precious, and that love truly is stronger than death.  I will see you soon enough, little buddy....on that day when everything lost is found and when everything broken is made whole.

On Tattoos and Permanence

Some of you may know that I’ve been patiently waiting to get my memorial tattoo for 3 months.  I had picked out the exact design within a few weeks after Louie passed away. Then I found a portfolio from a tattoo artist at 2SpiritTattoo. This studio is terrific, but like everything else in SF, there is a very long wait.

Richelle decided to join the bandwagon for the least spontaneous tattoo ever as heartbreak has struck the Yeh family twice. My beautiful niece was stillborn in May 2010.  Richelle got a sparrow tattoo in remembrance of her daughter. Laura's middle name is 懷 (Huai), which means "to think, to remember, to cherish".

I chose a celtic motherhood knot.  There are two separate hearts shown as endless knots. Then the two hearts are intertwined as mother and child.  I wear it on my wrist (technically upside down) because I like the idea of seeing something that reminds me of Louie every day. I can never hold him again, but he is a part of me.  

In this interim wait time, the most common concern/question I encountered was “Are you sure about a tattoo? It’s permanent.”

It’s a very reasonable question.  And all I can say is the permanence is exactly what I was looking for.  I only got to hold Louie, my precious son, for a little over 24 hours in this life.  There is nothing more permanent than the longing to be reunited with him.  There is nothing more permanent than death.  There is nothing more permanent than our love for him.  The permanence is a perfect representation of Louie’s impact on my life - not just a past, but present and future.  

“Other” children may come (although hard to imagine that day), but there is no replacement for Louie - just like there is no replacement for your mother or father or brother or sister.  Family members are not interchangeable.  It’s unclear to me why the public believes that somehow people become interchangeable if they’re really small or if you haven’t personally met them.  

Louie and Laura - you will always have a permanent place in our families and hearts. (And now... an additional place in your mothers' arms.)

Refuge in Zion

Some friends of ours offered to treat us to a getaway trip shortly after Louie passed away.  We accepted this generous gift and headed out to Zion National Park for an emotionally loaded Mother’s Day weekend. Zion is a Hebrew word that means "a place of peace and relaxation" and that's exactly what it provided for us. (Not sure why I'm so into the meaning of words these recent posts).

There are so many metaphors when we're out in nature. I thought about a few life lessons as we hiked through different parts of the canyon.  None are particularly insightful, but they are particularly relevant for me in this season.   

Zion reflection #1: focus on the step directly in front of me.  When we were hiking on the trail called “The Narrows” (bottom right picture and yes...everyone should do this someday!), I would often casually browse ahead at our trail along the Virgin River. This is normally fine for easy parts, but definitely not the right move when wading through water.  I would start crossing, get a little over confident, look up ahead, and invariably lose my balance.  Then I had to remind myself to focus on finding my footing for every step...lest I fall in the river and damage my much loved iphone or camera.  

It feels the same way for processing this tragedy.  My grief therapist often reminds me to pace myself since I try to anticipate too many variables for the future.  It’s hard to only look at one step when we had planned out something very different for our life with Louie. That being said, it makes sense to takes things slowly and gently to see how I feel after each step.

Zion reflection #2: My grief is not larger than the canyon (look for Warren standing on the bottom in the left pic).  

It’s been 60 days since Louie’s death.  I’ve cried every day.  That’s 60x more than any other time in my life and still going.  The sadness can feel suffocating sometimes.  But when I was walking through the canyons, it reminded me that while my grief is deep, the world is bigger.  And being small helped me to take a breath and remember that many others have suffered and survived.  And that’s what we’re doing right now.  We’re surviving.    

May 12 was Louie’s due date.  Somehow W & I feel different now that we’ve turned the page on that date.  You turn a little into Rain Man as a bereaved parent.  Dates, holidays, days of the week, anniversaries of birth/death are all significant.  2014 was supposed to be the best year yet: having a baby, celebrating 10 hard-earned years of marriage, turning 35.  We never imagined that our life would be quiet and peaceful after May 12.  But it’s time to take a step back from looking ahead and work on getting through tomorrow.  

Life with Louie

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When we first started the blog back in 2010, I thought peregrination was the perfect word to describe how I wanted to travel and wander around the world - a journal of fun. I’ve always loved the idea of allowing life to bring us to unexpected places and experiences.  It seemed to provide perspective.  

I now think about the words long journey and period of wandering with a new sense of perspective.  It’s been 24 days since Louie came and left this world.  It feels more like months.  His death has changed the journey I was on and now I don’t know where I’ll end up.

Warren and I had one day in this life with Louie, but we’ll spend a lifetime loving and missing him.  I wanted to capture that day as part of our peregrination.

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Life with Louie
31 weeks into what we thought was a perfectly normal pregnancy, I found out suddenly that our baby would not survive.  The doctors found several abnormalities in his development (non-immune hydrops, kyphosis, among other issues).  They still don’t know a specific cause, but called it a genetic metabolic syndrome - nothing we could have anticipated.  When we learned of this tragic news, we received advice from two bereaved mothers to create as many memories as we could and to introduce him to family and friends.  It seemed counterintuitive at first -  to spend time with your child in the womb or after he’s passed, but I now see how precious that time was.  I will never get to make any new memories with Louie.

The night before Louie was born, we started to think about what life was like when I was pregnant - what I was craving (fruit & soup), what we had done, and where we had gone. We had a lot of fun and am glad that the little guy was with us during those adventures. I never really thought about preserving those events before, but now I'll take whatever I can get to remember that he was with us. We didn't know that we'd have so little time. 


We went to Hong Kong (top left) with our friends Brian, Sam + McNugget, and Jeff. We took an excursion to Tasmania (bottom left) and watched the Aussie Open (bottom right). We visited the beaches of Hawaii (middle), biked across the Golden Gate Bridge (bottom right), and ran across New Hampshire (top right).

During pregnancy, I had spent so much time worrying about the ways a baby would take away from my life.  I never imagined how much Louie would add to my life and fill my heart with so much love… even if I could only hold him for a day.

Louie was born on Sunday, March 16, 2014 @ 8:50 am.  My contractions started around 2 am earlier that morning.  I had an amniocentesis done on Saturday night, so thought the cramping or fake labor was the normal after effect.  By 5:30 am, I finally called the nurse to give me some painkillers to get some sleep. I’m anti-pain, pro-drugs.  

It had only been a few days since we learned anything was wrong and were adjusting to the news. No one expected me to go into labor so soon.  When the doctor came in to check, we were surprised to find out that I was 5 cm dilated.  They said it could take another 12-36 hours before delivery.  I had asked the nurse earlier if it’s ever too late to get an epidural and she said it shouldn’t be a problem.  By the time I was ready for the drugs, the anesthesiologist was with another patient and things moved too quickly for me. The little guy was going to come out au naturel.  Now that I’m writing the story, it’s part of a good narrative.  At the time, it was crazy unexpected and scary.

Louie arrived in the world after 30 minutes of pushing and what Warren considers "unnatural" yelling. I was nervous what it might feel like to hold a baby that would not live. Would he feel lifeless?  Would he look like Gollum because he was so little?  Would it feel weird to be so close to death? Would people think I was crazy for taking pictures with a dead baby? The minute they put him into my arms, my world changed forever and the questions faded. I wasn't worried about social norms around death.  Perhaps only the bereaved understand how natural it feels to stay close after a loved one has passed. I wasn't afraid of being near him. I only felt love. Some mothers might feel this when the baby is inside, but for me, it was different when I saw his face, smelled his hair, touched his fingers, and kissed his nose.

Sunday, March 16, 2014 was the happiest saddest day of my life.  Our friends and family came to meet Louie and we were able to video chat with others who were far away.  Warren and I got to be a family for 24 hours.  He sang to him.  I washed his hair.  We ate dinner.  All the little things become the big things. We will always remember our life with Louie.

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I’ve entered a new phase of this long journey. It's no longer just a journal of fun, but that's life.  The good and bad is woven together.  I feel a deep sadness that swallows every part of my body.  I wake up wondering if this really happened only to find a flabby, but empty belly.  I avoid life by sleeping or watching tv. It's all the energy I have right now.  I dream of the days when I will have a “packaged” story for the death of our son. But I am not there yet...wherever "there" is.

About Louie Yeh-Sheng Chiang

Louie Yeh-Sheng Chiang Obituary

Louie Yeh-Sheng Chiang (姜業昇) was born at 8:50am on Sunday, March 16, 2014. He had a brief heartbeat, but never took a breath on this earth.  He passed away peacefully in the arms of Mom and Dad.

His parents only found out a few days before that there were any signs of trouble. The doctors were not clear on his diagnosis, but their hypothesis was a genetic metabolic syndrome.  Since finding out the news, Warren and Melissa have been trying to capture the invisible life that he had before his fleeting moment. 

Louie's first name started as a nickname from a lobster shop in Cambridge, MA called "Louie's Alive and Kicking Lobsters." Melissa would text "alive and kicking" to Warren after her initial doctor's visits (even before it was confirmed to be a boy). He would affectionately be called Louie from that point forward.

His middle name is Yeh-Sheng.  Yeh is the generational name for the Chiang family and coincidentally has the same pronunciation as Melissa's last name. Sheng means to rise or ascend. It's a scientific term that describes going from solid to gas and skipping the middle stage.  In some ways this is precisely what Louie did - he went straight from the womb to heaven.

While we rarely remember someone’s life before they begin, Louie became a part of the family long before he left us.  Some of his parent’s favorite memories include taking Louie to 4 continents, participating in a 200-mile relay race, attending the Australian Open, meeting a baby wombat in Tasmania, and countless walks along Embarcadero in San Francisco.  

Louie is survived by his parents, Melissa Yeh and Warren Chiang.

In lieu of gifts or flowers, we have created a memorial fund for Louie Chiang.
http://www.youcaring.com/memorial-fundraiser/louie-chiang-memorial-fund/151563

Part of the donations have already been sent to charity:water to build a well in Ethiopia. The rest will go to organizations that help us honor and remember Louie.

 first family selfie - 03.16.2014

From Aussie to Tassie

Our trip concluded with a short three days with Jeff and Sam in Tasmania -- an hour flight south of Melbourne.  In this laid back area of Australia we rented a car and drove around the island -- including visiting beautiful Launceston Gorge and Wineglass Bay (three pictures on the right side). One of the famous stops in Tasmania is the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA). Lots of really unique pieces.  One of Mel's favorite was the "Fat Car" which was a sort of artistic statement about modern materialism. Or maybe it was just a car with bulges (left).  Other MONA highlights for us included a robotic digestive system (second from left) and the "White Library".

One of the highlights for us was attending an evening feeding at Bonorong wildlife sanctuary where we were greeted by many friendly (and hungry) kangaroos, fed raw meat to a Tasmanian Devil (they look nothing like the cartoons), hold a baby wombat named Max, and observe other unique Australian animals!

We were super-grateful for our hosts/travel companions Jeff and Sam and for the chance to visit this amazing part of the world.  

(From Mel):  An extra special aspect to our trip was that Sam and I are both expecting additions to the family in May!  Traveling with a fellow preggers was super helpful as we had to eat every 3 hours and definitely had to take an easier pace than our previous vacation together hiking in Peru. 

Belated post on the first part of our trip to Hong Kong/Macau coming soon.

It's Pronounced "Mel-bin"

We were so fortunate to have a week in January to visit Melbourne, Australia along with several friends. We (five of us) invaded Jeff and Sam's house, with rambunctious Bailey (dog pictured) and cuddly Nora (their other dog). They were gracious and generous hosts in this beautiful city including showing us the local market eats (oysters and sausages pictured), the public street art (middle) and beautiful parks (bottom right). 

A big highlight included spending two days at the Australian Open which was one of my (Warren's) lifelong goals. Despite the ridiculously hot weather on the first day (106 degrees) it was everybody's first time at the tournament - and we drank in the whole experience!  

The matches ranged from scintillating (Ivanovic upsetting Serena Williams) to somewhat boring (Djokovic crushing Fognini) -- the great thing is that you can always wander the grounds to see other matches.  We even saw two retired legends - Martina Navratilova and Martina Hingis!  Afterwards, we were inspired to go play on the local clay courts and do our best Nadal on clay impression.

An unforgettable experience.