Sarah the designer

I love origin stories. I love hearing how something becomes that way. I find it oftentimes starts in the least likely of places or from a seemingly small event, that eventually leads to changing a course in someone's life. Every little turn or decision shapes and defines that person's character or perspective on life that ultimately directs the way they go! My origin story as a graphic designer isn't by any means a thrilling one, but not without little twists and turns along the way.





But firstly, I'm a graphic designer? Most people don't know me as a designer. During my school years (which was at the York U/ Sheridan C joint program for the Bachelor of Design) I did lots and lots of baking, so a lot of people know me as Sarah the Baker Yoon - a professional one. I've catered a couple of weddings and events here and there, so that image stuck. I still occasionally get asked how my bakery is doing. Little do they know I'm actually designer by day and baker by occasional weekend!

I've had a pretty direct route to becoming a designer - the education for graphic design is quite practical with a straight-forward destination: graphic design. Other than becoming an instructor or design critic, studying design sort of (basically) means you want to be a designer. So that's what I did.







I graduated in 2009 when the economy was struggling and jobs were hard to find. So as soon as I graduated, I went straight to work. I resisted the temptation to travel and explore the world before I enter the workforce—as many of my peers did. And luckily, I found a design graduate's dream job. A reputable and highly-creative design agency in the downtown fashion district with exposed brick contrasted with pristine white walls. I worked super hard, knowing that whatever hours I put in (even the long, unpaid ones) meant I was growing and helping myself make a place in the industry.

But as much as I was developing rapidly as a designer, I realized I was starting to lose sight of why I was doing it in the first place. The work was interesting but I started to lose interest. I was tired and confused - I thought I would feel more purpose to what I was doing. So like most green, confused youngsters do, I went through an identity crisis. I suddenly felt like I wasn't living the life I was supposed to: what was the meaning of all this? In my naivety, I claimed that everyone was living a fake, meaningless life. I was overwhelmed and defeated. But in her wisdom, my mom suggested I start step by step. I could start by dedicating a few hours each week to what I had a heart for. She told me to do some research into different paths I was interested in. And since I had the support of my parents, I was free to do my searching now. I quit my design job and spent my days volunteering - I helped out at schools and at a downtown inner city program for youth. And then I decided to apply for teacher's college.





I decided that becoming a teacher would be meaningful - dedicating my life to developing and teaching children of the future generation. I would get to work with children and make a difference in the world! My first step was to get into teacher's college, and there lied a big problem. I had a Bachelor of Design, which for some reason was not admissible as a foundation for teacher's college. It could be anything else, Fine Arts degree, or just an Arts degree, but not Design! All the Ontario schools said I didn't qualify, save one school - University of Ottawa. I crossed my fingers and applied – I had to wait a few months until I found out. In the meantime, I decided to find a temporary design job to keep myself busy while I waited. Through a friend, I heard about an up-and-coming innovation firm and after a brief interview, I got the job! I started to enjoy working as a designer at an agency again. A few months later, I finally received a letter from the University, "Due to not enough applicants this year, we have canceled this year's program." And just like that, the door to teaching was closed. But I wasn't disappointed at all, I realized it was providence. Through a series of events, I was able to explore what "meaningful" work actually meant and I came to realized I have grown up a little bit.





Sure, the new job was fun and exciting: I got to work with interesting people and do innovative work. And I realized I had a talent for graphic design. But that wasn't the reason why I felt okay with going back to the industry. I learned that wherever I was, whatever I did, it wasn't the job that defined me, it's I who defined the job. It wasn't the work that was supposed to make me feel valued or give me meaning. I had something greater that gave me value in my life - and design could simply be a passion for me. As I took the expectation of 'life-fulfillment' off of my career, I was able to enjoy it for what it was. That sense of freedom and enjoyment for what I did added great value to whatever I did at work and I knew people could see that around me too.

So that's how I began my journey as a graphic designer. It's been already 6 years since I've been one! It took some growing up to appreciate where I am and I'm glad I got to gain perspective through it all. I'm still young in the industry, and I only hope to mature more and more as the years go by.



Hey, also – if you'd like, you can check out the rest of my portfolio at sarahchung.ca. Enjoy!

introducing heidi

I think it's only appropriate to start off my return with the biggest change since my last post, which also happens to be the biggest event of my life – the birth of my daughter Heidi. Becoming a mother has been nothing that I could have imagined in so many ways: like how strong a mother and child's bond can be, or how absolutely horrible sleep deprivation feels, and how wrong I have been about maternity leave (which for some misguided reason seemed "glamorous" to me). Motherhood is exhilarating and exhausting, rewarding and routine. But as any mother would tell you, it is an absolute blessing – the good and the hard – to be a mother.

I want to share my birth story because it's kind of nice to share these kinds of stories, but mainly (and selfishly) because I haven't journaled it and I figured I should leave a record of it somewhere, haha. I will be careful not to over dramatize what happened though. I realized that people love to tell birth "horror stories" because sometimes it truly is crazy what they go through, but I find that it often paints an ostentatious picture of the birthing experience. Yes, it's really intense and there was definitely lots of screaming, but I am humbled by the thought that every single person in history was birthed by someone. So without further ado, here is how little Heidi was born!

The lovely baby shower hosted by my friends Alicia and Mina.

Heidi Ella Chung was born on May 5th 2014, exactly one week after her estimated due date. That extra week was pretty hard, partly because people kept asking and it got pretty repetitive telling them "No, she's not born yet" and partly because I just wanted to stop being pregnant! Pregnancy was not fun at all. I concluded that women who say they love being pregnant are either elves or liars. Being pregnant felt heavy, acidic, awkward and nauseating. Morning sickness is horrible and I hated peeing every 12 minutes. But I did love not having to suck in my belly to fit into tight pants, and also got to go on a baby-moon! I have to admit I'm not looking forward to being pregnant again, but alas, you can't get a bun without baking it first.

One of our last evenings together before Heidi's arrival.

After waiting and waiting, May 4th finally came around. I have been feeling Braxton Hicks contractions (false contractions) for a couple of weeks so when I first felt contractions at 1 am, I brushed it off. But then – it became different. The pain became much deeper and heavier, so I knew it was it! I didn't bother to tell Andrew though, who was sleeping beside me, since they tell you to wait around until 4-1-1 (which is contractions every 4 minutes lasting 1 minute long and sustained for an hour). I tried to sleep without much luck and by 4 am, I knew it was time to go. I nudged Andrew and told him "Honey, this is it. We're meeting Heidi today."

My baby bumps.

We excitedly and nervously got ready and hugged our parents and headed off to St. Joseph's Hospital in Toronto. I called my midwife on the way there, feeling contractions closer to every 2 minutes. We totally assumed that I probably had a long way to go since I wasn't feeling that uncomfortable. The pain was bearable and I didn't look anything like the pictures they show you of the face that you're supposed to make when you're going into labour. But once we got in and the midwife checked me, I was already 5cm dilated and pretty close to go into active labour. I knew I didn't want to get any drugs going into it, not because I felt like I was super strong, but because it can often make labour longer and sometimes lead to complications. Plus, my sister did it twice without an epidural so I figured we may have similar pain tolerance.

Look how happy and okay I looked at the beginning!

So then I felt everything. And that pain was nothing like I could have imagined. While I felt that the contractions were quite endurable (I even joked to Andrew that I didn't understand why people would ask for an epidural at all), when it was time for pushing, I completely broke down. My midwife told me that every single woman comes to a point where they hit a wall and feel like they possibly can't do it anymore. I hit that wall pretty hard and soon enough I was screaming "I CAN'T DO IT. I JUST CAN'T DO IT. MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP!!" It was especially hard for me since Heidi, while not being breeched, was "sunny side up" which means she was facing up and out to my stomach. Her head was down but she kept turning forward instead of facing my back. My midwife would then have to reach inside and turn her head while I pushed (and screamed and screamed). OH my Lord, every time she put her hand in there I could feel it and I felt like everything was burning and ripping. SO MUCH FRKIN PAIN.

But nothing lasts forever, thank the Lord. When I started to feel hopeless and delirious with pain, my midwife told me to try and feel her head that was just crowning. At first I refused because I didn't want to know what was going on down there. But she insisted and it was the best advice she could give me at that point. As soon as I felt her warm head I felt a rush of urgency – that I needed to get her out!! I refocused and gritted my teeth and pushed and pushed. And then! After 8 hours of labour and 45 minutes of pushing – there she was!! My baby! So alive and so real. I will never forget that moment: Andrew's elated face that searched my eyes to thank me, my body's huge sigh of relief, and Heidi's tiny body pressed against mine. I instinctively started to sing to her when she couldn't settle down and for the first time I felt like her mother as she calmed down and snuggled peacefully in my arms. This was my child and I was gonna love her with my whole being.

Someone's falling in love real hard, real fast.

That's how Heidi came into the world. Only now have I realized that the birthing was actually the easy part of motherhood, the hard part was just beginning! But I discovered the real beauty is that day by day I fall in love with her more and the day before that will always be a precious memory. I'm so thankful to have experienced giving birth and I'm so grateful that I gave birth to a healthy little girl. I know it's truly a miracle and I promise to never take it for granted.

My happy girl Heidi is now almost 9 months!