It had never happened before.
But when I saw it, I recognized it.
So I got up, carried my baby out and left.
Before school started, I always wondered how people would view a full-time Masters student who was also a new mother.
I was certain- those who were serious about work might discount me as “fluffy,” “distracted” or “tied down.” Those who had sacrificed their own dreams of pursuing further studies to care for their children might say I was too ambitious, too selfish. Either way, I didn’t win.
However, it didn’t take long for those thoughts, niggling at the back of my mind like an insatiable itch, to be put down. When I started school at Hopkins, the response I received from my Program Director, professors and my classmates shocked me.
In Sarah-Faith’s early days when I held her in class during Orientation, nursed her at the back of the lecture theatre, or brought her to lunchtime seminars or lab sessions, everybody loved on her. There she would sit, playing with her fingers and toes, smiling to herself.
As the days passed, my husband, Cliff, and I found a routine that worked- I would spend time with her in the car in the early morning till I was dropped off to school, after which she would nap at home till lunchtime. At lunchtime, Cliff would drop Sarah-Faith off to me while I nursed her and brought her to lunchtime meetings or seminars while he could take a mid-day break, before I handed her back to him for her afternoon nap. By the time she woke up again, I would be home.
Save for a fair number of crazy days where I would eat on-the-go and find myself carrying a heavy mom’s bag in one hand, Baby in the other and using my foot to open the door to the nursing room in the basement and running up 6 flights of stairs to get to class… this ran like clockwork.
Not once did I ever get a dirty look from anyone. Not once did I ever feel I was less than anyone else because I had a baby. Instead, the response was and has been one of overwhelming support, encouragement and joy.
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“Whatever you’re on, I want that too.”
“You give hope and inspiration to so many women.”
Not until today.
I left just minutes after the start of a lunchtime seminar to pass Sarah-Faith back to Cliff, who had driven back.
I returned to class without her.
When it ended, so many asked, in an incredulous tone, “Why did you bring her out?”
My reply was a wry smile.
I didn’t want to say, “Didn’t you see?”
I thought I might have been over-sensitive, but it was a close friend who approached me after class who said “I saw it, Wai Jia. I know why you left.”
All at once, I was saddened and joyful all at the same time. Saddened, by the professor’s taciturn response to having a baby at the back of the room of a lunchtime seminar, and yet, unthinkably, bizarrely joyful… in knowing that all this while, I have had the marvelous and rich privilege of being supported by amazing classmates and professors who had welcomed and continue to welcome Sarah-Faith to school while embracing me as their equal.
When school first started, I remember often feeling awkward about attending lunchtime talks or events, even though I might have been madly excited about the topic, because I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to bring a baby. I would always write in to ask, prepared for a negative answer.
My professors always shocked me with their replies:
“Of course she’s welcome. BOTH of you are.”
“You mean you’re the mother of that precious doll? She’s precious!”
“She’s going to be so smart- grad school before pre-school!”
I remembered feeling a tinge of disappointment when I received the invitation to the Hopkins’ Scholarship luncheon, wondering how I could attend the luncheon to network with other scholars and profs, while fulfilling my role as a wife to give my husband some respite, and spend time with Sarah-Faith in the middle of the day.
“But she’s part of the class. Of course you have to bring her!” Said my Program Director.
The scholarship luncheon shocked me. What I thought would be a casual mingling affair where I could disappear among the crowd turned out to be a formal sit-down session with a panel of professors who had awarded the scholarships to us.
But there Sarah-Faith sat, playfully cooing and twisting a piece of plastic, while different professors affectionately made timely, humorous references to her whenever she made a squeal and my peers glanced over lovingly at her new-found antics.
I was nervous, but they set me at ease. I always worried if I might annoy or offend others, but people would text or say to me afterward, “How’d you get such a perfect baby!”
At that moment today, I was saddened. And yet filled with gratitude at the overwhelming encouragement I’ve received from people who are committed to seeing me, us succeed.
It made me soberly reflect on my GPA of 4.0 in my first term of school (something I’ve never received in my entire life), not because I worked incredibly hard, or am incredibly smart, but because of God’s grace, an amazing husband, and because I received unbelievable support from friends, mentors and people who believed that as a mother, I had as much of a privilege and right as anyone to gain access to an education and opportunities to change the world, just as anyone else did.
It brings tears to my eyes as I ponder over the day I sat in the US embassy in front of the panel of official board members, and wonder what went through their minds when they decided to give a woman in her third trimester with her first baby a scholarship. It makes me wonder why the other board didn’t discount my abilities as a new mother when they interviewed me while I was still nursing our baby round-the-clock.
Why they didn’t hold back, why they didn’t think twice.
It made me reflect on what we’ve been learning about in class this past month about bridging inequities, because an overwhelming majority of women around the world face discrimination and stigma in quiet and overt ways, because many are gradually sifted from their workplaces because of unsupportive work and family environments, because many have held back fiery tears and hid from the watchful public, seared hearts, caused by caustic comments loud and clear, and disdainful glances, sharp and silent.
Today, was the first time I received that look which pierced right through my heart.
I count myself incredibly blessed- for this to be just the first time in three intense months of school to experience this, for my classmates to show such support and love, for me to realize what an incredible opportunity I have to be a mother and student at the same time.
I have lost count of the number of people who’ve offered to help babysit our baby so Cliff and I can have date nights regularly; I am thankful for the friends I have who don’t mind going through group assignments with Sarah-Faith with me; I have been humbled by the friends who’ve opened doors, given up seats and ran for elevators for us, because I had my hands full.
To all my classmates, colleagues and mentors, whom I’ve grown to love and admire for the heart and passion you have to saving lives around the world “millions at a time” (Hopkins’ tagline, no doubt), thank you for being culture changers in our world of shifting values, for bridging inequities that have hurt, punished and disempowered women for being mothers, and most of all, for making an intentional difference to our lives, Sarah-Faith’s and mine, one heart and life at a time.
Joining us at our scholarship luncheon with our panel of professors and scholarship recipients!
and scholarship recipients!