Page 1 of Kimchee and Peanuts

On April 17th 1987, the doctor was late when twenty-two pounds and three ounces of slimy plum-flesh burst into the world. Uma’s vaginaskin, which tore everywhere like a bloody shirt ripping at the sleeve, was never the same again.
Abba was there, trying to avoid the news reporters who wanted to know how it felt to be the father of the world’s largest baby. He was only hoping for a good delivery, and didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl, though he already had one little princess.
But Abba’s Abba and Uma – my Chin-Halabujee and Chin-Halmunee - were putting up no such accommodating fronts. They wanted their first-born son to give them a boy, and everyone else, including Uma, had to try and understand that “they were from a different time and generation.” So when Abba showed the baby to Chin-Halmunee, the first thing she did was pinch each fatty ankle, and pull them apart like the legs of a chicken.
She stared. “But where is the penis?”
“Our princess doesn’t have a penis, of course,” said Abba.
Chin-Halmunee quietly tucked the legs back together and pulled a blue towel with white stars up to the baby’s chin. Then she stood there, her hands not quite touching her because her large, spherical belly lifted them from her sides. Abba stood behind her and watched his mother’s thumb and pointer finger twitch in the air.
Last night, Abba’s parents had insisted on watching the birth, after the weight of the baby was determined to have surpassed the weight of another child named Dilshod born three years ago in Uzbekastan. The news was immediately picked up and reported by CNN and they had all watched from the overhanging television in the hospital room.
“So long Dilshod,” the newscaster had ended. Then appeared a picture of Abba, Chin-Halmunee, Chin-Halbujee, and Unnee lined up on either side of sleeping Uma. Surrounded by hospital equipment and with no one smiling, they looked like they were at a strange metallic funeral.
“We will be here, tomorrow,” Chin-Halmunee had said.
“But Umunee,” said Abba. “Don’t you think Myung-hee needs privacy?”
“Privacy? We are family. We will not be bringing in cameras or choirs of small children. Family is private, no?”
So the three of them had stood there, in Uma’s screams, Abba wearing a mouth mask, every breath fogging up his glasses. The first thing they saw was the baby’s five small fingers emerge and reach for the ceiling so desperately that they stretched far back on the palm.
“Our little boy!” Halmunee had laughed, and clapped her hands to hurry the baby into the world.
To Abba’s right was Chin-Halabjuee, who looked out the window at the rain. Through the reflection of the glass, he saw the baby’s folded face emerge and the great range of soft, peach hills rolling down her body. He could not rid himself of the anxiety that he was partly responsible for the baby’s terrible being. She was of him and yet not of him, and he felt a sense of bewilderment, from the moment he first saw her - a fist coming out of Uma.
“What is the matter?” asked Abba.
Chin Halbujee remained unmoved and began to motion with his hands, which he always did before speaking.
“She is so unfortunate looking. What will you do, Hyunee? A baby this big and this ugly will be sure to have a difficult life.”
Abba saw his genuine concern but could not help but smile because the baby was his and he loved her and thought she was not so terrible looking.
Suddenly, the door swung open and the air fractured with the electricity of news cameras. Out of the crackling light stepped one-and-a-half year old Unnee, who had a face that looked very much like Uma ‘s- beautiful. Her hair, in three ponytails, paddled like shiny fish fins through the hospital air.
Unnee would become a great singer, said Gomo, Abba’s sister. Unnee cried so much and so hard when she first found the world that God couldn’t have given her such a strong voice for nothing.
Right then, Unnee was grumpy from the general lack of hugs and pats and kisses over the past few days. She wanted to go home and sit in Abba’s lap and read stories and eat noodles with her fingers. But instead, she stood on a cold floor with no shoes, and saw something huge and wiggly lying next to Uma. That’s when she decided that she had had enough. Abba looked uneasy as a song began to form deep in Unnee’s stomach. It crept up through her chest, nestled into her vocal chords, and streamed lightly into the room.

This is the first sound I can remember.