Auntie Choo Neo gave ground. “Okay, lah. Listen. Let’s do the red egg your way. It doesn’t need to be traditional. It doesn’t even have to be Chinese. But we can have a celebration, right? Some food, some family. That’s all your father and I want.”

I couldn’t ignore the kindness and devotion Auntie Choo Neo had bestowed upon me for so many years. “Okay,” I relented, “but everything has to be approved by me and John.”

“Of course!” she exclaimed triumphantly. After pulling out her calendar and prodding me to pull out my phone, she helped me set a date for the red egg and ginger party. “It won’t be on the hundredth day, but it will be with family. All the aunties are so busy that this was the earliest date.” To my consternation, she had already consulted with the aunties who would be travelling from Vancouver, Calgary, Kamloops, and Sparwood. “We will celebrate then,” she concluded with satisfaction.

Auntie Choo Neo got what she wanted, always businesslike. As she briskly got up to leave, she pulled a gift bag from her large purse. “Just a little something for my niao siao. You need to name her so I can call her something different.”

The nurse arrived right after Auntie Choo Neo left. The baby was born tongue-tied, and her frenulum was cut to help with her feeding. The nurse checked to see how it was healing and helped me find the right nursing posture for my baby and me. After twisting into many different positions, we cast away the nursing pillow and instead propped up the baby more vertically, having her rest against my body with her legs between my legs. Once we found a posture that worked, the nurse fell back onto the sofa and asked me if we had settled on a name.

I laughed sheepishly. “Honestly, I haven’t had time to think about it. Sleep, food, and a long hot shower are top of mind.”

Suddenly, I felt a cold wind brush my neck, as if someone were tapping me on the shoulder with icy hands. I thought back to how Father had implored me to get the baby her birth certificate, how I had promised to take care of it. All my drama with my family, my exhaustion, my desire to find some semblance of my old life had pushed that crucial task out of my head. I was confronted now with guilt so large that I couldn’t move.

“Are you okay?” the nurse asked.

“Yes, sorry. I just remembered something I need to take care of,” I said.

“No need to apologize. I remember when I had my first. It was all such a blur. I’m surprised, though. Usually, people love choosing a name for their baby.” She searched my face. “There’s no short list?”

“To be honest, this pregnancy was unexpected. I wasn’t sure if I could ever be a mom.”