Declan Patrick: Part One

So, despite my doctors assurances (she actually used the words "zero percent chance") that I would never make it to my scheduled c-section date of August 23rd, I did. It felt like forever and all of a sudden, bam!, there we were. We dropped Paisley off in Okotoks on the Friday and Brian and I went for a nice dinner and went to bed knowing that in the morning we would be having a baby. Very strange feeling. Probably like a man on death row might feel the night before his execution, except much happier. (Just the knowing part, not the dying part).

We headed to the hospital in good spirits. This was so different than when Paisley was born. I wasn't in labour, there was no need for morphine, Brian wasn't forced to sleep in a dirty corner on his coat. We laughed and I tied various medical belts around my head and pretended to be a ninja. It was jolly good fun. At about 10:30 they came in to wheel me into the operating room. Brian had to wait in a tiny cubicle while they stuck the needle in my back for the spinal. Apparently one too many Dads has hit the decks upon witnessing this sight, and so now they are no longer welcome to watch. It was as weird as it was the first time. You can't feel your body and although you know it's there, it isn't. You can't help but feel very vulnerable as they shift you around and lie you down because if someone yelled "Fire!" and everyone chose to abandon protocol, and you, you'd be screwed. The only good thing I suppose would be the lack of sensation as the flames licked at your toes.



Brian was allowed back into the room and very shortly after they started to slice me open. I had requested that they lower the drape separating me from my lower extremities (which only exacerbated the weird out of body sensation of the spinal) as soon as they started to take the baby out and they did. So, there I am, looking at my own abdomen, cut open with a new person being pulled out of it. There truly are no words to describe just how weird and wonderful and otherworldly that was. Anyhow, there he was! Our baby boy. They whisked him away to clean him up and measure him and I lay there, waiting. I also managed to look at the placenta which by that time resided in a large Ziploc bag. Again, weird. They handed the baby to Brian who brought him over, and once again, like I had only three years ago, I fell madly and deeply in love.



Declan Patrick weighed 6lbs 12oz and was so cute it hurt. He had peach fuzz hair and tiny little ears and dark eyes. I couldn't believe that after so much time and so much anticipation, he was finally here.

They whisked us off to the recovery area and he started to eat right away. I felt wonderful and was on enough drugs to be pain-free, but not enough to feel woozy or out of it. He started having troubles with his sugars right away. We knew that with my diabetes (even though it was really well controlled) this might be an issue so we weren't overly concerned. After he had fed and they still didn't come up, the neonatologist told us he would have to admit Declan to the NICU. I was upset but the doctor assured me this was pretty normal and that he would likely be out in 24 hours.



Part Two: Read how doctors are life-savers but also notoriously bad at accurate predictions.

Fat & Fitness

It seems like every day I hear something about obesity. The newspapers are full of interviews with alarmed statisticians and staggering numbers. I've heard interviews (in the past week alone) with fat people, former fat people, doctors, nurses, urban planners and health advocates, all pontificating on how we got here and how we are going to fix it. Naturally it is something I think about a lot and something that really concerns me.

When I was pregnant with Paisley I gained a lot of weight. This was the first time in my life where I had ever really struggled with my weight. After she was born I was left with an entirely different body - an unfamiliar visitor that left me feeling awful. I felt like the inside no longer matched the outside and that people looked at me differently. There were all kinds of reasons why I put on the weight and although the diabetes didn't help, it was ultimately because I had consumed more calories than I expended. I realize the relationship isn't always so linear, and that the more we learn about our fat metabolism and obesity, the more complicated it gets, but still, you can't escape the fact that if you take in less calories than you burn, you won't continue to gain weight.

I started getting fit. I watched the pounds drop off and made friends at the local YMCA. I gained muscle tone and energy and enthusiasm for life. I looked better, I felt better and I was discovering a whole new me. At some point I passed over to evangelism. This happens to people. You discover running, or fitness, and you can't believe how it changes your life. You start to feel like if everyone could discover what you have discovered, they would feel this way too. It becomes a solution to everything you see around you - depression, obesity, heart disease, fad diets and low self-esteem. You start to see it as a cure-all and the people around you start to feel annoyed. :)

Here's the thing though. Exercise is a cure-all. That's not saying everyone likes it. I've come to realize that maybe some people will never feel the rush I feel after a good run (although part of me still insists with consistent effort over a long period of time it will happen) but nobody can argue that the run won't do them any good. The human body is designed to move. Our metabolisms are based on certain energy outputs and evolved under conditions with way less food and far more movement than we have today.

This pregnancy has been so incredibly different from my first, and it is all because of fitness. Losing the baby weight, getting healthy and then maintaining my routine throughout the pregnancy has left me feeling strong, energized and free. The baby of course is better off as well. I haven't gained nearly the weight I gained last time and I have no doubt the recovery will be easier, faster and more enjoyable as well. The only thing worse than being overweight was being pregnant and overweight.

Recognize that I am not talking about being skinny. I have a good friend who is super-fit and does Ironmans - she is incredibly strong and healthy. And she will never be skinny. It's not who she is or how she is built, but she (and her body) derives the benefits of fitness the same as anyone. I firmly believe that if I could snap my fingers and have everyone in the world experience feeling truly fit for one week, nobody would ever go back. It's the getting there that is so tough.

Across the world (or at least across the Western hemisphere) people are looking for an answer to obesity. If I could find that one motivator that would work for people, to push them over the edge into changing their lifestyle I would be a billionaire. Several times over. I often wonder what makes some people get off the couch and 350 lbs and start running, while others (the majority to be fair) just stay there. Is it personality, environment, chemicals? Have they just not found their motivation yet or is it so much more complicated?

I understand that genetics, social groups, past hitory, urban planning, social economic status, culture, race and education all play into this. I get that it's not simple - but what makes some people hit that wall and make a change while others watch from the sidelines?

2011

Wow. Nearly 6 months since I last posted here. That's pretty lame. I have to admit that although blogging more regularly is one of my New Year's resolutions, I don't feel particularly inspired. I will give it a try for the next few weeks and see how it goes. As far as updates go, there are plenty!

1. We moved! In September we moved into Arbour Lake - a neighbourhood just 10 minutes down the road from where we were before. It's a real house with a garage and a backyard and so far, we love it. It fuelled a major existential crisis when we bought it (see #2) but so far we're enjoying it. I can walk with Paisley to the library, the YMCA and all the shops I could ever need. People are friendly and decorate their house for Halloween/Christmas etc. and there is a private lake 5 minutes away that has ice-fishing, skating, swimming, kayaking and scuba diving. Brian can walk to the train which means he has cut a bus out of his commute and although it isn't shorter, it is easier. We are really looking forward to the summer so we can enjoy the yard, have people over for BBQs and meet all the little kids around.

2. The decision to move was an ugly one. We knew we needed more space and wanted out of the condo. We had this idea of who we are as a family, and unfortunately it had a hard time holding up to reality. What we wanted was an inner city house within a short commute (or hey, walking distance!) from Brian's work. We wanted to not need a car and to have a local corner market and coffee shop. We wanted a stoop where we could sit and say hello to neighbours and a school nearby for when Paisley is older. The big problem was that we also didn't have $2 million in the bank. Sigh. So, that left us with the same urban dilemma that faces thousands of young families. Rent at an exorbitant rate (if we could even find what we wanted that is) close to the core, or move out to the burbs. After much analyzing, discussing and tears, we headed further out of the city. We felt like we were abandoning some principles along the way and that never feels very good but we also knew that we would benefit a lot from the things that the suburbs could offer us, like say, affordable housing.

3. When we bought the house, we knew it would need a new kitchen. The house isn't old and in fact the kitchen looked quite nice but there was no room for a kitchen table. Weird. A four-bedroom family home and you couldn't put a good-sized table anywhere. The house had been on the market for awhile and was already significantly less than the other house on the market so we went for it, on the condition that we would remodel the main level. Fast forward 3 months and you have a haggard couple on the verge of divorce in a half-finished kitchen, washing dishes in the upstairs bathroom, drowning in mounting debt and losing faith that life will ever get better. Fast forward to now and all is well. The kitchen is mostly done and while the bills are not yet paid, they are no longer growing. We managed to finish just before Christmas and are really happy with the results. The emotional scars will heal in time. Right?

4. I'm pregnant! We found out the same week we bought the house (elation!) and I had all kinds of complications the week we moved (stress!) but now everything seems perfect (trend?). The official due date is May 1st but due date has ceased to mean much. I have a bicornuate uterus, which essentially means that rather than having one big pear-shaped uterus, I have a heart-shaped uterus with two individual horns. I always knew this was the case but nobody had ever really made a big deal out of it. My doc thinks that having a baby may have made the condition more pronounced and now says it is the reason I had a hard time conceiving before Paisley was born, it's why she was born early and it's why this one will likely be early too. So - between that and the diabetes I will be having a baby sometime in late March to mid April. Let's hope no earlier. (Or god forbid, later.)

5. Paisley is nearly three and deserves her own post (more like 50 posts but let's get real), so I'll get on that. Short story is that she is awesome. Really funny, talking like crazy and the joy of my life.

6. I quit work. Again. From the time Paisley was about 6 months old until this summer I had been working part-time from home. I was writing for magazines and websites and newsletters and all sorts of things. I actually really enjoyed the work but not the schedule. I was getting up at 5:00am before Paisley awoke, writing for a few hours and then writing again during her naps or after she went to bed. To make matters worse, I would calculate my hours at the end of a long, exhausting, stressful week and find that I had put in 8 hours. All that stress for only 8 hours!? It just wasn't worth it. So, when the chance came to take a break over the summer I did. And I never looked back. I thought I would miss it but I don't. Not even a little bit.

7. Paisley is in a day home on Wednesdays and I am really enjoying having one day to myself. I love being a Mom but as she gets older it becomes harder on her to drag her around for errands and appointments. I have had a ton of appointments with this pregnancy and it didn't seem fair to take her with me all the time. So this way, I schedule everything for Wednesday's and she gets to play with her new little friends at the day home.

Ok, that's it for now. To anyone still optimistic enough to have me on their RSS feed, thank you. And wow, you're a really positive person.

Time Together

This journey through pregnancy has been full of emotions; highs and lows and jig jags and admittedly a few side trips to crazy land. The only map one really has is the knowledge that millions of women have been there before you. The biggest problem is realizing that half of the women's advice is crucial and the other half is completely bogus and that it's up to you to discern what is what.

As I near the end of this journey I am finding myself overwhelmed with different emotions and some of them reside for too short of a time for me to even grasp that they've been. I am excited to meet this little person who insists on kicking me and tucking her head under my ribcage for so much of the day. I am scared of the changes she will bring with her. I have always valued my time with Brian above almost all else and I'll admit that there have been times where I have been envious of women who seem not to care if their husbands work 80 hours a week. I miss him when he's gone and there is no one else I would rather spend my time with...it's why I married him. I'm scared to lose that time and although I know we will only be gaining another member of the "team" it won't be the same. Maybe it will be better, but it won't be the same.

I am anxious about the unknown world I am about to leap into. Diapers, teething, drooling, breastfeeding...an entirely different world from the one in which I now reside. I know that with those things come joy, laughter, wonder and a love so deep I most likely have never experienced anything like it thus far. I know that at some point this baby is going to grab on to my heart so tightly that I will be forever changed and all of my priorities will be rearranged. I know that most of this will happen to me and I will have very little control in the process.

I look forward to Brian, Baby and I going to the park...a family. I am excited to see Brian be a Dad and lift his little girl onto his shoulders and throw her in the air, always catching her, just right. I can't wait for the cold, winter nights when Baby is bathed and still damp and put to bed. Where we read her a story, the light is amber in the room and she falls asleep to the sound of our voices. I see these things and I can't help but feel like my heart just boarded a run away train that won't ever stop.

My body is tired at this point and stretched to its limits, quite literally. I cannot sleep and I am never comfortable and I haven't seen my toes in months. But, when I lie in bed and she kicks inside me, doing tumbling acts that I can only imagine, I smile and take a moment to appreciate the wonder of it all. That our baby is safe and happy in her mother's womb and that she has no idea of all the things coming her away. I guess it reminds me that above all else, her and her parents, we are in this thing together.

Final Touch? Baby.

Absinthe Without Leave

I think getting used to this maternity leave thing is going to be a little harder than I thought. At first I was all like, "Wow! Weeks and weeks of free time to do what I want, when I want?! Wahoo!" I had a long list of things to do, from working on my new website and writing more to cleaning every nook and cranny of my house with a toothbrush. Some of the things on my list have been accomplished, other things obviously have not.

I suppose it's a matter of figuring out what my life is going to look like as I fumble along. I have always done well with a schedule and some consistency. I don't need a ton of routine but I need some. Getting to bed and getting up at roughly the same time every day makes me function better and that is certainly not happening. My nights are a blur of Braxton-Hicks contractions, being kicked from the inside, frequent (i.e. hourly) trips to the bathroom and a lot of tossing and turning. This means I usually end up sleeping for a few hours in the day which inevitably makes me feel lazy and unproductive and I am very hard on myself. At some level I know that there is no point in working on a routine anyway since any day now it will be thrown upside down and inside out. I suppose it also doesn't help that I have no idea when I am going to have this baby...tonight after dinner? During Hockey Night in Canada next weekend? Weeks and weeks from now? I have a friend who is so afraid that I'll go into labour when I'm with him that he honestly won't meet me for lunch or coffee unless it's at one of the hospitals. My life, at least for the next few weeks, is out of my control.

Yesterday I cleaned like a mad woman...which felt great. The bedroom looked better than it had in years and I knew that if I could keep things going at that rate I'd have the whole house in perfect condition by the weekend. Fast forward to about 9:00 last night when my hips seized up and the pain in my lower back was enough to make me wince with every step. I couldn't sit, or stand, or lie down without going into spasms and I knew (mostly because Brian was standing over me telling me so) that I had pushed myself too far. But it felt so good! So today I did practically nothing except berate myself with my inner mean voice and bemoan my unpainted toes, my growing belly, my hairy legs and the fact that none of my maternity clothes even fit me any more. Basically I threw myself a pity party but didn't even get junk food because I hurt too much to go to the store.

So...what does tomorrow bring? If all goes according to plan, balance. A little bit of work and a little bit of relaxing should allow me to keep up the momentum on the house without killing myself and also hopefully give me some down time to work on my less physically taxing projects (like learning Spanish). That's the plan anyway...but for all I know I could get hit by a bus, or better yet, have to push a baby out of my vagina.

Mooooo!

So there I was this morning, tummy full of French toast and happily writing an email when I noticed a little wet spot on my shirt. No big deal, I probably just spilled something...except I'm not drinking anything.

And then I realized that the spot was located directly over my boob and that it was coming from me. Reality came crashing down very quickly as the puzzle pieces fell in place. My body is no longer mine and my life will never be the same. I am making milk.

Move Baby Move

This baby is breech and despite my best efforts to roll and move and twist her into place, she's not moving. It's like she's stuck with her head under my ribcage. If she stays this way I will have to have a c-section and her head will have taken on the shape of, well, my ribs I suppose.

Winter Showers

Yesterday we watched the birthing video and practiced labour positions at our prenatal class. It was weird and scary and made everything seem very real and increasingly closer to actually happening. Gulp.

I also had my baby shower yesterday at work and loved every minute of it. I never really thought I would have a baby shower since I don't have any friends who know each other and those that do know each other are all guys. (Although they did offer me a shower...complete with strippers.) The ladies at work were very generous and it felt nice to be surrounded by people I know very well and care about and know that they are excited for me and to meet the baby.

Did you know that Tim Horton's now makes hash browns? It's about freggin time.

The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

On Friday, motivated by the prospect of an early baby, we headed to Ikea. Brian pushed me around in a wheelchair for nearly 4 hours while I commandeered the list and dictated everything we would need for the nursery. Before we left I explained to him that going to Ikea as a couple to buy stuff for our baby's room was a huge deal for a chick and that if he really loved me he would be patient and kind and not look at his watch the entire time we were there, no matter how long it all took. That I had been waiting for this day for a very long time and that although to him it may be a lamp or a dresser to me it would represent emotions and concepts far beyond his imagination. Basically, he boarded the crazy train willingly if haltingly and did a very fine job of it all. And at the end he got an ice cream cone and a wife who loved him to pieces for his efforts.

It feels so much better to have everything set up so that if baby girl does decide to emerge earlier than expected I am ready. Well, in a sense anyway. Pictures of nursery to come...

Panic

Today I went for an ultrasound to see if the baby was getting fat from my diabetes and she isn't. While they were looking at her though they noticed that my cervix was shortened to 2cm which apparently isn't supposes to happen until you go into labour. (There we go - I just wrote about my cervix in a public forum. Pregnancy can be very humbling.) There was a big panic (although we downplayed it because Mum and Dad came to my ultrasound and it was the day before they leave for a three week cruise) and I had to go see my doctor right away that afternoon. She gave me some steroids and I will have to go back again tomorrow for another shot. The steroids are designed to boost the development if the baby's lungs in case I go into labour right away. The doctor also told me that I have to take it easy and cannot do any cleaning , lifting, walking etc. This might sound like a good thing but it only increased my panic because all I could think was "I have to go to Ikea!" I have a list as long of my arm of things that need to be done before the baby arrives (cleaning baseboards, washing walls, setting up a nursery, sewing blankets, cooking a months worth of chili and lasagna etc.) and that list includes going to a prenatal class so at least I know something about what is going to happen to me! I felt a little less worried when the doctor re-booked me for 2 weeks from now - how much of a panic can this really be if she wants to see me in 2 weeks?

Departure

Yesterday was my last day of work...what a week. I honestly don't think I've ever been so close to having a mental breakdown as I was last night. With Christmas coming, the fact that I'm not sleeping well (could be related to the 20 pound bulge in my stomach and the peeing 6x a night) and the things I needed to finish before work was over I was completely in over my head. I walked in the door last night with an hour to spare before family arrived and a bomb site of a house and my chest caved in. I felt like I couldn't breathe and the room started spinning. My only thought was "Oh good...I'm going to be put in the hospital and they'll give me something so I can sleep and take care of me...this will be wonderful." but I stayed conscious and vertical and very much disappointed.

This morning I feel much better and I managed to sleep last night. Today we (my brother Craig is visiting) are going to ice Christmas cookies and meet my Mum at the Farmer's Market for coffee.

Leaving work has been a far more emotional event that I originally anticipated. I thought that at this point I would be overjoyed to be done with the daily commute and all the office politics that drove me wild for so many months. But wouldn't you know it? Work has been better in the last 4-5 months than it had ever been and I was really starting to feel good about my position and the organization and where it was all heading. I had a new team in place who I adored and have found myself feeling sad about the prospect of not seeing those people every day. I'm hoping this will be just like high school - where it all feels so monumental and sad until you realize that really, it's neither and that there are better things waiting for you.

Either way, I'm off for Christmas, I'm about to make waffles for breakfast and my husband who had disappeared as of late is back and finished exams and best of all? It's nearly Christmas!

Upper Crusty

This baby thing is weird. It's obviously not something I've done before and at times I feel completely overwhelmed by the options and gadgets and decisions and things that have to be bought or planned. I decided a long time ago that I was going to take a very minimalist approach to baby and so far have done just that. I've always gotten a kick out of saving money and finding a deal and this has extended, maybe even become exaggerated, with baby items. What has surprised me is the reaction I have encountered from other people and other mothers-to-be.

So far I have bought almost every item of clothing from EBay or a similar local site called usedcalgary.com. I've found fantastic deals on mostly new clothes and some gently used ones and they are all so cute! Why on earth would I pay 3 or 4 times the price for something that the baby will only wear a handful of times and most likely vomit on? I bought a stroller this past weekend for a huge discount as well as a bassinet/play pen combo. Everything is in great condition and clean and did I mention WAY CHEAPER!? The other thing I've tried to do is really stop and think about what the baby will need. Does it need to vibrate and swing to the sounds of dolphins and waves crashing against the sand? Probably not. You wouldn't believe how much stuff is out there for babies...prenatal education systems, brain gyms, activity mats, swingers, rockers, bouncers and jumpers, chairs that stay erect, chairs that recline, pillows to keep them on their backs, pillows to keep them on their tummys, strollers with piped in music, double cup holders and thermometers, even computers to help you record what time your baby last ate, slept, was changed, or made a sound. In my opinion it's nuts...so Brian and I have made every effort to keep it to a minimum and only buy what we think we'll need. If we find that we're missing something we can always buy it later. (Besides, once all the Chinese recalls are made on this stuff they'll be even more affordable!)

You wouldn't believe some of the reactions I've encountered about our approach. "Oh...you mean, they're used? Like, another baby already wore that dress?" Yup, a dirty baby...who may even have been from another country." Many of the women I've spoken too, both in person and online in the "baby cults", are obsessed with getting the newest, most expensive items. A lot of them already have things from their last kid but still want to buy everything new for this kid. I've asked a few mothers-to-be about strollers and what they recommend and without fail I have been told to buy a Bugaboo. "The stroller that looks like it was made by NASA and costs over $700?" "Yeah, but they are really good and can go over anything and they come in cute colours." For $700 they would have to breastfeed the baby, not just hold it.

I guess I owe my ever-expanding collection of really cute, really cheap baby necessities to the very women I don't understand. If they weren't over-purchasing really expensive items and selling them to me for half the cost than I wouldn't have the nice things that I do. So thank you to the consumer-driven women of this city. Thanks for always having to have the best and newest and trendiest...I salute you. (And am especially grateful that you've recently decided to flood the market with used Bumbo chairs just in the nick of time).

Advice from a pregnant lady...

Never, ever, underestimate the importance of wearing underwear that fits.

Power of the Belly

I've heard a lot of pregnant women complain about people touching their belly and I must admit that I myself have marveled at the audacity at some people but I have to say that I feel differently now that I am here and it is happening. I think it's wonderful. After having traveled and lived in other countries around the world I have witnessed time and time again how socially isolated we are in North America. We are protective of our personal space to the point of compulsion and it always makes me feel a little sad. There was a part of me that loved standing shoulder to shoulder with someone on the bus in Korea, feeling the warmth of their body and knowing that the other person wasn't the least bit uncomfortable. I've seen people here calculate, methodically, how to best separate themselves from the other passengers on a train or a bus. Why? What have we gained by having no contact with strangers, no human intersections beyond those we seek out?

A pregnant belly breaks through all those barriers and social rules and penetrates the invisible social bubble that we all live under. The idea that the baby is coming into a world where complete strangers want to look at it and touch it and care for it brings me comfort because that's exactly how it should be. Babies should be welcomed into a community that extends beyond their immediate family and loved and cared for by the village, so to speak.

When people, even strangers, touch my tummy it feels nice. Their hand is warm and they are almost always smiling...waiting to feel her move. And when they do they are excited and happy and I feel like I'm a part of something bigger. I find it amazing that babies and more specifically, the baby in my tummy, has the incredibly powerful ability to break down social barriers, make friends out of strangers and connect people in time who otherwise would have walked right past each other.

OM

I am taking a prenatal yoga class and I have really been enjoying it (it probably doesn't hurt that the yoga studio is located right above a Dairy Queen). I've taken yoga before and I always liked the way it made me feel and the opportunity to take some time just for myself. The same is true for this class and if anything I've enjoyed it even more being pregnant. It's very peaceful and at the end I not only feel relaxed and calm but I also feel like I got a decent workout. My teacher, Carolyn, is really sweet and has avoided any of the fluffier yogi philosophy that has always bugged me about yoga. That is, until tonight.

I am not a Doctor, nor do I claim to know and understand everything about the human body. But I do have a degree in Neuroscience and I can say after working on many brains that there are certain things I am absolutely certain of. Like that the lungs do not operate on the same crossed neural pathways as say, the eyes. And that despite the "thousands of years of yogi studies", breathing through one nostril at a time will not balance the brain. Nothing can balance the brain...because it doesn't need to be balanced. It's hard for me to sit and relax and breathe while someone is spewing absolute garbage. Tell me it clears the nasal passages and forces you to concentrate on your breath. Tell me that stretching the ligaments and muscles of the neck can alleviate pressure and tightness and lessen headaches. But please, do not tell me that breathing predominantly through one nostril can cause psychosis and schizophrenia and that we need to balance our breathing so that each lung (which in case nobody notices, DO NOT function independently) is equally innervated and cleansed. Cleansed of what? Air? And what the hell has innervation got to do with breathing in the first place?

I worked very hard tonight to stay calm and not let this get to me. I want to take the good away from this class and not worry myself over the silly little things...let people believe what they want right? My problem is that when something is a matter of opinion, say the existence of God, I'm far more content to have a debate about it but still respect that at the end of the day either one of us could be wrong. But this? This is not a matter of opinion. This was just craziness masking itself as science and that is one of my biggest pet peeves...the same people who turn away from science seem to have no problem using it to disguise and validate their nutty ideas.

And now I am here, unraveling all the calmness I worked so hard to achieve.

Namaste and good night.

Beginnings...

With each week that passes my pregnant state becomes more and more obvious to myself as well as the rest of the world, and I am often left feeling overwhelmed and like this isn't real. There isn't really a person growing inside me is there? When you stop and think about it, about the cells dividing and the nutrients moving from my body into hers it becomes too much to comprehend. Too big, and yet, so normal.

I have felt so many emotions over the past few months and I often find myself checking in with my own head, "How are we doing?" You still okay with this?" Mostly, the answer is yes but I would be lying if I said there weren't days where I am panicked and terrified and want to hit the eject button. I feel fat and vulnerable and totally unprepared to become a mother. I liked the life that Brian and I had made for ourselves. I liked going for drinks on Friday's and sleeping in and going out for late-night meals. I liked knowing that we had a team of two to take on the world and planning our next vacation to a far away place. I'm scared to lose all of that.

At some level I know that we will gain so much more and that Brian and I will always be a team. It's the awkward stage in between where you can imagine all the things you love being gone but it is still too abstract to really envision what is to come. I know I'm pregnant, I feel the baby kicking and I am steadily preparing for her arrival but I still cannot really picture her or what my days will consist of. I am taking a giant leap into the unknown. I suppose, if she could, our baby would feel very much the same way.

Response to Freestar Media

My recent letter to this guy who is making a movie about the horrors of the Canadian health care system. He requested true Canadian health stories...how much do you want to bet that mine won't make the cut?

Hi,

I recently received an email about the movie you are making (Sick and Sicker) and wanted to write in with my true Canadian health care story. I am an otherwise healthy 29-year-old woman and was recently found to have Type 1 diabetes. It was a real shock and I was scared for my health and of course, for the quality of my life in the future. Within weeks of my diagnosis I was seen by an endocrinologist. When I mentioned to her that my husband and I were interested in starting a family I was moved to the Diabetes in Pregnancy clinic here in Calgary. I had an appointment within a week and was given my own nutritionist to help teach me about food choices, carbohydrate counting and prenatal nutrition. I had a diabetes education nurse who helped to get me on insulin and supplied me, free of charge, with my insulin pens. She calls me every week to go over my blood sugar numbers. I also see an endocrinologist who has been absolutely phenomenal and who is very up to date on what is going on around the world in diabetes research. When we struggled to get pregnant we were referred to a fertility specialist and I had an appointment in less than a week. They provided me with hormone supplements and free ultrasounds to monitor my pregnancy.

I am now over 5 months pregnant, educated about diabetes and healthy. My sugars have been well controlled - through my efforts and through the efforts of my "team". Aside from prescriptions I haven't paid for a thing...I have spoken with friends in America who have paid thousands of dollars for the kind of care I received. I did not wait and I have received world-class care.

The only other experience I've had was when I had a miscarriage two years ago. I went to the Emergency room and did have to wait a few hours, although I was not bleeding heavily. When I did get in I was treated with compassion and kindness and felt very much taken care of. Again I saw a doctor and had an ultrasound and only paid for the parking stall at the hospital.

While I recognize that some people have had an entirely different experience with the Canadian health care system, I do not thinking it is fair to demonize the system as a whole. My husband and I have lived in Africa, Asia, Europe, America and Canada and as someone with a chronic health care concern such as diabetes there is nowhere I would rather be than Canada. Working on the system to improve and fix its flaws is one thing but misrepresenting it as a failure on all counts is not only unfair it is inaccurate.

I am not a leftist Michael Moore fan, nor do I believe that the Canadian health care system is perfect...but it has certainly been good to me...and to my bank account.

Sincerely,
Caroline Knox
Calgary, Alberta

Sometimes I just get so mad about this issue...our system is not perfect but just last week I had a flu shot, a blood test, a visit to my ob/gyn, a visit to the endocrinologist and an electrocardiogram of my baby's heart - all for free. And you know the best part? Anyone living in this country would have access to the same thing - and that just feels right.

First Words: Radio Canada

On Friday when I came home there was a package in our mailbox. I saw that it had come for Brian and that it was from CBC. Nothing bad ever comes from CBC so I was excited to see what he had bought...I was not dissapointed:



And the indoctrination begins.

One down, one more to go...

A baby foot. A GIRL baby foot.