There was such a lot of hanging about, especially once I’d passed my due date of 25 June. I wasn’t a patient person. The days were long and Mum was getting anxious – she could only stay a month. To help pass the time and take our mind off things, she taught Li how to play bridge. He took to it like a duck to water. They would play well into the night and really got to know each other over cards. It was lovely to watch.
The baby didn’t want to come out, so eventually I had to be induced. We drove to the hospital with my bag on 12 July at 7 a.m. and I was put on a drip to induce the labour. After a while the drugs kicked in and I soon knew what it meant to feel contractions. My God! I thought ballet injuries were painful, but they were nothing compared to this. My labour was long and I had hours of contractions but nothing was happening, so my obstetrician decided to break my waters to hurry things up. Once that happened, there was a time limit for the baby to come out or there was a risk of infection. I had an epidural for the pain. ‘God, please let me have a healthy baby!’ I was praying.
Li was with me, but I could see that he was nervous and scared. Even so, he was talking calmly, encouraging me: ‘You’re doing great. You can do it, Mary.’
Coralie waited outside the room. She was frantic because the delivery was taking too long. Li kept going out and reassuring her. At around 8 p.m., the baby was finally ready to come out. The doctor had to use forceps to pull her down. He was brilliant – there was not a mark on her.
Her. A baby girl. We were shocked. We hadn’t wanted to find out the sex beforehand, and everybody had guessed our baby would be a boy. After all, Li was one of seven boys, and I had five brothers of my own. Even the experienced Niang and Coralie had agreed our baby would be a boy just from the way I carried the child. Now, here was this precious little girl. I was stunned by her beauty – she looked just like her father. I felt quite emotional as I took her in my arms for the first time. Li had tears in his eyes too: ‘A girl, Mary! I can’t believe it. She’s so beautiful!’
‘Yes, she is!’ I said. I put her to my breast straightaway. And she was calm. She was 7 pounds 7 ounces with glossy black hair, and nicely chubby. Definitely ready to be born. We just gazed and gazed at her. Is there a bit of me in her? I wondered, not taking my eyes off her.
‘Oh, darling, she is so beautiful,’ said Mum, as she wiped her eyes.
‘What are we going to call her?’ Li asked. We had a lot of boys’ names ready, but hadn’t really prepared names for a girl.
‘I don’t know.’ I said.
‘I don’t know either, but I’m sure the right name will come when we get to know her better,’ Li said.
I was exhausted after the long labour, and our baby was taken away so I could rest, but not for long. Thankfully our daughter took readily to the breast, and Mum was there while I breastfed, with a glass of water and a pillow to support me.
I stayed in hospital for the next three days, and during that time many friends came to visit. My little room was overflowing with flowers. Ben arrived with the biggest pink teddy bear I’ve ever seen. Everyone who came made suggestions for girls’ names. It was Charles Foster’s eldest son, John, who mentioned he liked the name Sophie.
‘Sophie!’ Li and I responded together. ‘That’s lovely!’ Sophie was not such a common name in Texas in the 1980s. And I had always liked the name Catherine – Catherine the Great, so strong. That was that. Sophie Catherine Li was born on 12 July 1989.
We went home as a family of three. Li and I were in total awe and wonder. We were shocked at the beauty of this baby, and fell in love with her from the moment she arrived. She had a similar tanned skin colour to Li’s, as well as his deep brown eyes. ‘She’s perfect,’ I said to Li as we gazed at her sleeping in my arms.
He just smiled, holding us both close.
Sophie was such an easy baby. She was more like my mother than me in temperament, I decided – so calm. Definitely not my nature!
Mum made sure I had snacks to keep up my milk, cooked meals and tried to get me to have naps. She was just as happy as I was to discuss Sophie – her nappies, her feeds, her skin – all day long. But soon it was time for her to return to Brisbane.
‘Sophie is a wonderful baby, Mary. So easy. And you’re a wonderful mother,’ she told me. I was teary, but it was time to get on with our life as a new family.
Our family life was busy but not hard, as Sophie was so little trouble. We would often comment on how good she was. The midwife said that too. We felt blessed. And to my surprise I discovered I was maternal. I adored her and couldn’t get enough of her. Her beauty, her fragility, took my breath away. I gazed at her all day and stroked her precious head, and my heart leapt when her tiny hand squeezed around my finger.
Li was so capable it was fantastic. He was comfortable around babies. As soon as he arrived home from work, he would scoop her up into his arms. He could do everything – he bathed her, changed her, fed her and played with her. When it was cooler at night, we would often put her in a baby pouch strapped to Li’s chest and walk around the neighbourhood. On one of our walks, I met a neighbour, Maria Myler, who also had a new baby called Cara. She knew a couple of other mothers in the neighbourhood, so we decided to meet up each Monday morning. I met some other lovely friends through Maria – Becky Houston, Anne Cullotta and Liz Gianini. We called ourselves the Mad Mothers.
Lots of our friends from the ballet were keen to visit us, so we decided to have an afternoon tea. For almost all of our dance friends, a baby was a totally new experience. Sophie was such a novelty.
Li and I couldn’t believe our luck in settling Sophie to sleep each night. We had heard horror stories of new parents who struggled night after night, but that wasn’t a problem with Sophie. I constantly pinched myself. Life was still a dream, and yet it was real. Sophie, Li – my own family.
When Sophie was six weeks old I started to detect little smiles on her cute face. Li went to the Edinburgh Festival with the company, dancing Swan Lake and Gautama Buddha, which in the end had been performed in Houston but had not been taken to India. I decided not to go as Sophie was still too young and I was slowly trying to get back to some regular classes. I was on a schedule to get back into shape for a guesting role in The Nutcracker in Hong Kong with Li in early December. It was going okay, and breastfeeding helped me lose my baby weight. I had a babysitter organised each day so I could have that time away. Sophie was usually asleep anyway.
We had discussed how I would manage going back to work. ‘I don’t want to put Sophie in child care, Li,’ I told him.
‘I agree. I’ve been thinking about this. What if we bring my parents to Houston for a while? We’d have to ask John and Megan to move out, but I’m sure they’ll understand. Niang and Dia would want to help us with their granddaughter. They’re her nana and yeye,’ he said, using the Chinese terms for grandma and grandpa.
I felt bad about John and Megan and baby Austin, but they were happy to move into a house in the same neighbourhood. Li’s plan made so much sense and Niang and Dia didn’t even need time to think. They relished the chance of actually living with Li again after so many years apart. They arrived when Sophie was a few months old.
They were incredibly excited. It was going to be a special time for Li, too, as he had not seen much of his parents since leaving for Beijing at the age of eleven. This would make up for some lost family time. I was happy for him, for all of them – and for me, as I could increase my time at work. I felt lucky.