One day when Minh was six month old, Dung fed him at lunch and gave him a nap. Thirty minutes later, Minh rattled his crib and started to cry.  It was not his normal cries.  It was a struggle to make sound and an effort to get attention.  Dung rushed to his crib and found Minh covered with sweat and in a high fever.  He face was turning blue as he struggled to breath. He tried to cry, but the sound was muffled in his throat. 

 

Dung took off his clothes and tried to see if he was bitten by a spider or something, but there was no bite marks, no red swollen signature of any insects’ bites. Trying to calm Minh down, she opened his mouth to see if he was choking by something in his throat. Nothing there. Yet Minh continued to struggle for every breath. His face was getting bluer, as his cries were getting weaker.  Dung got him some water, but he could not swallow.  As the water spilled back onto his naked chest, his body was getting redden.  His chest moved up and down irregularly, as he continued to fight an invisible enemy. A minute passed and his eyes were starting to lose focus.

 

Dung was shaking. She called Dr. Matthew, our pediatrician. She threw a baby shirt on him and rushed to take him to the doctor. “Van, get Vinh into the car now!” She ordered the five-year-old sister of Minh to get her other brother, as the two of them were standing at the door of the bedroom watching their mom and crying. She called me to meet her at the doctor’s office; then she ran. The fifteen minute drive to the doctor was done in ten, but it was the longest ten minutes of her life.  With one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on Minh’s chest, Dung was driving like a madman, while fighting back the tears that were pouring out in waves. The fear of losing her baby was so primal that nothing else mattered. Live, Minh, live.  She was crying out loud urging Minh on, while trying hard to remain focus. She can save him.  She must. In the backseats, Van and Vinh were crying quietly.

 

Minh passed out in her arms, as Dung ran into the office of Dr. Matthew. Van and Vinh were running behind their frantic mother; both were crying yet trying hard to not making sounds.  The kind lady doctor in the mid-forty rushed out to take Minh from Dung’s arms and directed them into her examine room. Minh’s breath was shallow, and his chest was barely moved. His eyes were lifeless. His face was blue and darken.  His little body was cold, blue and limp. Live, Minh, live. Dung was crying and shaking uncontrollably.  Please don’t let my baby die! Please, God, please don’t let Minh die.

 

Dr. Matthew quickly gave Minh a shot of some sort of medicine.  She put a heavy warm blanket on his tiny body. She gave him chest compressions, a form of CPR. She shook him and tried to get some sort of reaction. No movement from Minh. His breathing was weak and irregular. Dr. Matthew paused briefly to look up at Dung. A mother of two herself, Dr. Matthew was scared, “What did you feed him? What did he eat?” She yelled at Dung.  “Baby foods and apple juice!” Dung said. “Gerber baby food at noon!”

 

The doctor returned to pumping Minh’s chest.  Sweat trickled down her face and she kept at it.  A silence took over the room, as Dung slumped down on the guest chair.  Van and Vinh rushed to her, and she reached down to hold both of them.  Vinh was only two year-old then, but he knew something was wrong.  He too was scared and kept quiet.  After several long minutes, Dr. Matthew paused and quickly glanced over at Dung.  The two mothers’ eyes met. There were no words exchanged, but so much said. Dung cried louder hugging Van and Vinh ever tighter.

 

“Eggs!” Dung yelled out. “I fed him eggs.” Dr. Matthew rushed out of the room, as though Dung had spoken a magic word. Within a minute, she came back with a long tube of more medicine. She shook the tube violently and gave Minh a long shot into his tiny thigh. She stood back and watched.  Dung was back at the examining table and gently patted Minh’s head.  Tears continued to stream down her face.  Please, God, please don’t take Minh. Please. The doctor quietly shook her head in resignation.  She too had tried. Dung sunk to her knees. Her heart was so broken and she too could not breath.  Van started to cry loudly and Vinh joined her in panic.

 

A quiet sigh came out from Minh’s tiny mouth.  His chest rose to take in the air and he gave out a small cry. Dr. Matthew rushed back to the table and turned him over in her arms. She slapped his back gently. Minh raised his head slightly and threw up. The gooey vomit shot out from his mouth all over the table. Then he did it again. More vomit. Dung grabbed Minh from the arms of the doctor and hold on to him tight. Minh started to cry. A beautiful cry of a baby.  He choked slightly on his saliva, but he kept on crying. A beautiful baby cry. Dung cracked a smile when Minh looked up at her. A weak tired look. But it was the most beautiful thing that Dung had ever seen. She hugged him tight.

 

I arrived at the doctor’s office, as the colors had come back to Minh.  He rested comfortably in Dung’s arms.  And from the look of it, Dung would not let him go any time soon.  I picked up Van and Vinh one on each arm, as they were so glad to see their dad. “He got a severe allergic reaction to eggs,” Dung said, “I thought we lost him.” She cried again.

 

That night, when the children were in their beds safe and sound, I asked her. Dung hold my hands and gently shook her head. The events of the day came back to her. As tears streamed down her face, “All I was praying was “God, please don’t take Minh.  Please let Minh live. Take me instead, but please don’t let Minh die.”” We held onto each other crying.  Tears of happiness, joy and thanksgiving.

 

---

 

It was 6:30 yesterday’s morning. As usual, Dung and I were in bed watching the early morning news. Minh rushed downstairs and stormed into our bedroom, “I got accepted into Boston College!” he announced.  Dung leaped up and high-fived Minh, “That is awesome, Minh. Congratulations.”

 

There were never a thought of how hard it would be for us to pay for Minh and Vinh’s colleges at the same time. There were no thoughts of our baby had grown up.  There were no thoughts of Minh is leaving us and of us being empty-nesters.  There was just pure joy of seeing our youngest child being accepted into a college that he wants. That we wanted.

 

Seventeen years ago, God had given Minh back into Dung’s arms.  She had been holding him tightly ever since. Now she is preparing to let him go on his own ways. The best Catholic University in the world. Boston College. A Jesuit school.  May God embrace Minh, as Dung had done the day He gave baby Minh back to her.

 

Vui

 

 

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