Born an Accident
As a young girl, I never dreamed of my perfect wedding day. Although I grew up watching Disney’s ‘happily ever afters’, the thought of settling down and having children was never on my bucket list. If by divine intervention it would happen one day, I promised myself that I never wanted to end up like my parents. This may sound harsh, but this story does get better, I promise.
Growing up, I knew that my immigrant parents were fantastic workers and wise investors, but they were awful lovers and terrible friends. My dad was pushy and proud, while my mum was overly tolerant and compliant. I never witnessed hugs, casual conversation, or laughter. I never heard ‘I love you’, ‘thank you’, or ‘I’m sorry’. Although my parents worked incredibly hard to give my brother and I the ‘Australian dream’, as a kid, I often felt trapped between cold, white walls that were void of life and love. I longed for freedom and in my mind, marriage and children was not the answer.
It was 1984 when my dad packed his bags and made the difficult decision to immigrate from Hong Kong to Australia. Far from a ‘Crazy Rich Asian’ with worldwide connections and suitcases filled with cash, my dad landed in Sydney with no friends, no qualifications and seventy precious dollars in his pocket. It wasn’t long before his lonely heart became enthralled with a young woman as lovely as a ‘pineapple bun’. She was quiet and naive, and although she saw red flags throughout their romance, her young heart rushed to marry her handsome and charming boyfriend.
Two months into their marriage, my parents discovered that they were pregnant with me, and all hell broke loose. They hadn’t planned for such a liability, and instead of celebrating with baby showers and gender reveal parties, they threatened to sue the doctor who had misdiagnosed my mum as ‘infertile’.
To accommodate their ‘accident’, my parents took out a home loan the year that the Australian interest rate hit an all-time high of 17% per annum. Unable to speak English and without any formal qualifications, my dad was forced to shoulder three labour jobs to keep the ‘accident’ alive. My mum continued to work a full-time office job despite her ‘nightmare pregnancy’. She suffered from morning sickness for nine months straight and was rewarded with a gruelling 26-hour labour.
Growing up, it was drilled into me that life is hard, work is hard, and pushing out my giant head was very hard. I was constantly burdened with these reminders, as though being born in the year of sky-high interest rates was a choice that I had made vindictively.
Last month, my parents celebrated their 32nd wedding anniversary and they recalled those ‘hard’ years with disbelief, and tears of joy and laughter. They acknowledged that God’s plans were wildly different to their plans, but life is never an accident. Although their marriage began with deep regret, with God’s help it has become a remarkable story of redemption. As of today, my parents are devoted lovers, best friends and even committed partners in the gospel. I am so grateful to have witnessed such a transformation, and it is my privilege to share their story with you.
