After a decent night of dozing, I woke up at about 6:30 or so feeling...strange. I lay there in my bed frowning for a while, before I woke Ian. "I think I need to push" I said, and he said "don't do that!" He called in a nurse, and after a quick check of my cervix she announced that I was 9.5cm dilated, and please don't push just yet. Soon, but not yet. That was not what I wanted to hear. The need to push was becoming overwhelming. After about ten minutes I started crying...not because it hurt, the epideural made sure of that, but because I didn't think I could stop myself from pushing for much longer. Once again Ian called a nurse, and my cervix was checked, and I was told that I could push with the next contraction.
I started pushing, and man, it was hard work. As I pushed, Ian held my hand, and kept me company. My doctor was called. When Doctor Brown came in and checked things out about 45 minutes after I started pushing, he could feel the baby's head, round, and high up. After an hour of pushing, she hadn't budged. After 2 hours of pushing, she hadn't budged. Dr. B. decided that it was time for some intervention.
First they tried the vacuum, which is supposed to be gentler than the forceps. It was a huge suction cup that they apply to the baby's head, and then they yank. Dr. B had the resident do it, and I swear, if the suction had gone suddenly, she would have gone through the wall she was pulling so hard. She yanked for a while, and when they checked....the baby's head was round, and exactly where it had been. By this point there were 3 NICU nurses, 2 Labour and delivery nurses, an Anestheiologist, my Dr., the Resident, and Ian in the room. It was getting crowded.
Obviously the Vacuum was not going to work, so Dr. B pulled out the forceps, held them aloft (I kid you not) and announced "These have saved more lives than penicillin. He wouldn't let the resident use the forceps though, they are a little more tough to handle. As he applied the forceps, I finally felt it...all the way through the drugs, and it hurt. They also had to do the episiotomy at that point.
I don't really remember much of the next 10 or 15 minutes, I was incredibly focused in getting that child out of me. Ian was proud of the help that he did, but I can't remember it at all. Honestly, he could have been making out with the cute nurse in the corner, and I wouldn't have noticed.
Finally Mary Beatrice Elizabeth was born. The NICU nurses grabbed her away from the Dr. to check her out and to clean her up while I was being stitched back together. I think this part was the scariest for me, the baby hadn't made any noise at this point, and one of the nurses came over to tell me that she was shocky, her blood pressure was a little off, and that she had a huge haematoma on the back of her head because of the vacuum. Then the nurse handed me a baby, all swaddled up, and told me that I could hold her for a couple of minutes, and that I should kiss her.
I can't describe the feeling when she finally left my body...after all that work and discomfort, it was worth every second just to see her precious, beat up and bruised little face. I know it's clichee, but I really did love her from the instant I set my eyes on her, and every day, I fall more and more in love. It was hard at first, she spent another week in the Neonatal ICU, and when we first brought her home we didn't know what to do with her, but she's been patient (relatively) and she's taught us everything we need to know.
Happy Birthday, Mistress Mary. I love you more than words can express, and I cannot wait to see what surprises you are going to bring us this year. You are such a joy to me, I cannot imagine life without you.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Friday, December 30, 2005
One Year Ago....
I was still extremely pregnant, still uncomfortable, incredibly miserable, and totally exhausted. After 3 or 4 hours in the jacuzzi, I felt relaxed enough to try to sleep again. Unfortunately during the walk from the jacuzzi back to the induction room, my relaxation left me, and my uterus returned to being irritable.
Now, at this point in my life I was still planning on doing this whole thing drug free (HAH!) and when the nurse suggested morphine for the 10th time, at 4:30 am, I lost it, and started sobbing. The nurse decided to check my cervix to see if anything was actually going on, and unfortunately for me, nothing had changed. I was 2cm dialated, exactly as I had been when I got there on Wednesday afternoon. She suggested morphine again, and I quietly sobbed into my pillow.
Ian appeared about 45 minutes later. The nurse had called him at home and said "She needs a little more support than I am able to give her." I was happy to see him, but so tired and sore that I couldn't do much more than whimper. He told me not to be stupid, take the drugs and get some sleep. So, I told the nurse and she happily gave me a shot in my bottom. I was a much easier patient drugged up, you see, and she was relieved that I had finally given in. I slept for about 2 hours.
I woke up feeling...Not quite as miserable, and looked around the room. Some time during the night, the two remaining women had been taken up to labour and delivery, and I was all alone. They quickly filled the 3 beds with other women desperate to have their babies. I was confident that today would be the day I had mine.
They hooked up the pitocin IV at about 9 am. They would slowly increase the pitocin levels over the day, but the nurse told me that most women never reached the highest level of the drug, they would go into labour long before that. Yay, I thought. I'm going to have this baby!
By mid afternoon, I was up to the maximum levels of pitocin and was still feeling nothing but an irritable uterus. Occasionally they would check my cervix to find it steadfastly holding on to 2 cm. The water broke of the woman across from me. I paced up and down the halls, dragging my iv pole beside me, getting more and more miserable. Another of my room-mates went up to labour and delivery, and I have to admit, I hated her a little bit.
My friend V came to visit for a while, and she provided an excellent diversion. She brought hot Pho, and games to keep my mind off the fact that I was in pain, and still pregnant. She stayed for a few hours, and then left. Shortly after she left, the 3rd woman's water broke, and up she went to have her baby. I was all alone in the room again, and still only 2cm dialated.
At about 8 that night the resident came in, checked me out, sighed and shook her head. The induction room would be closed at 9 for the weekend, so it was time to get this show on the road. She decided that they would take me upstairs, and break my water.
I got into my own (very nice) little room in labour and delivery, settled in, and was promptly abandoned. Ian decided that he would pop home to feed the cats while we waited. There was a cot for him in this room, so we didn't know when he would be home again after things got started.
Ian left, and the Dr. came in about 10 seconds later to break the water. I was sad that Ian wasn't there, and little frightened, but it was probably for the best. The Dr. took this thing...It looked like a crochet hook, and did the deed. No one warned me that it would be as gross as it was. It was like a fountain, and I soaked the poor doctor. I was incredibly embarrassed.
After my water was broken, I began to realize that what I had been feeling since the day before was nothing. This was pain. I curled up on the bed, and whimpered some more. They tell you to breath through it, but I could hardly remember to breathe at all. Ian was gone, and I was in pain and running on 2 hours of sleep since Wednesday morning. I just couldn't handle it.
When Ian got back about half an hour later (it felt a lot longer than that) I told him that I wanted an epideural. So much for the whole natural childbirth thing, eh? Anyways, I told Ian, I told every nurse that I could see, I told my pillow, I told the fetal monitor. I want an epideural. So, finally, one of the nurses when to find the Anesthesiologist.
Dr. Quinn was the name of the man who gave me my epideural. He walked into the room and said "You won't remember any of the other nurses or doctors names you see here, but you'll remember mine, because I'm going to make the pain go away." He was arrogant, but he was correct. The giving of the epideural was an experience that I would rather have not had. I was hot, and shaking and terrified. The nurse draped herself over me to keep me hunched in the right position, and I got claustrophobic. Thank God for Ian telling the nurse to stop touching me! The needle had to be put in several times, apparently my spine has a little wiggle in it or something, and every time he poked me, I had a sharp stabbing pain in my hip. Finally he got it in, and the drugs started to flow. Thank God for those drugs.
After the epideural was placed, things got much better for me. I was tired, and I was able to doze through the night to gather some energy. My blood pressure was taken every 15 minutes, so I didn't sleep well, but at that point, anything was better than nothing, and I was able to sleep till the next morning.
To Be Continued....
Now, at this point in my life I was still planning on doing this whole thing drug free (HAH!) and when the nurse suggested morphine for the 10th time, at 4:30 am, I lost it, and started sobbing. The nurse decided to check my cervix to see if anything was actually going on, and unfortunately for me, nothing had changed. I was 2cm dialated, exactly as I had been when I got there on Wednesday afternoon. She suggested morphine again, and I quietly sobbed into my pillow.
Ian appeared about 45 minutes later. The nurse had called him at home and said "She needs a little more support than I am able to give her." I was happy to see him, but so tired and sore that I couldn't do much more than whimper. He told me not to be stupid, take the drugs and get some sleep. So, I told the nurse and she happily gave me a shot in my bottom. I was a much easier patient drugged up, you see, and she was relieved that I had finally given in. I slept for about 2 hours.
I woke up feeling...Not quite as miserable, and looked around the room. Some time during the night, the two remaining women had been taken up to labour and delivery, and I was all alone. They quickly filled the 3 beds with other women desperate to have their babies. I was confident that today would be the day I had mine.
They hooked up the pitocin IV at about 9 am. They would slowly increase the pitocin levels over the day, but the nurse told me that most women never reached the highest level of the drug, they would go into labour long before that. Yay, I thought. I'm going to have this baby!
By mid afternoon, I was up to the maximum levels of pitocin and was still feeling nothing but an irritable uterus. Occasionally they would check my cervix to find it steadfastly holding on to 2 cm. The water broke of the woman across from me. I paced up and down the halls, dragging my iv pole beside me, getting more and more miserable. Another of my room-mates went up to labour and delivery, and I have to admit, I hated her a little bit.
My friend V came to visit for a while, and she provided an excellent diversion. She brought hot Pho, and games to keep my mind off the fact that I was in pain, and still pregnant. She stayed for a few hours, and then left. Shortly after she left, the 3rd woman's water broke, and up she went to have her baby. I was all alone in the room again, and still only 2cm dialated.
At about 8 that night the resident came in, checked me out, sighed and shook her head. The induction room would be closed at 9 for the weekend, so it was time to get this show on the road. She decided that they would take me upstairs, and break my water.
I got into my own (very nice) little room in labour and delivery, settled in, and was promptly abandoned. Ian decided that he would pop home to feed the cats while we waited. There was a cot for him in this room, so we didn't know when he would be home again after things got started.
Ian left, and the Dr. came in about 10 seconds later to break the water. I was sad that Ian wasn't there, and little frightened, but it was probably for the best. The Dr. took this thing...It looked like a crochet hook, and did the deed. No one warned me that it would be as gross as it was. It was like a fountain, and I soaked the poor doctor. I was incredibly embarrassed.
After my water was broken, I began to realize that what I had been feeling since the day before was nothing. This was pain. I curled up on the bed, and whimpered some more. They tell you to breath through it, but I could hardly remember to breathe at all. Ian was gone, and I was in pain and running on 2 hours of sleep since Wednesday morning. I just couldn't handle it.
When Ian got back about half an hour later (it felt a lot longer than that) I told him that I wanted an epideural. So much for the whole natural childbirth thing, eh? Anyways, I told Ian, I told every nurse that I could see, I told my pillow, I told the fetal monitor. I want an epideural. So, finally, one of the nurses when to find the Anesthesiologist.
Dr. Quinn was the name of the man who gave me my epideural. He walked into the room and said "You won't remember any of the other nurses or doctors names you see here, but you'll remember mine, because I'm going to make the pain go away." He was arrogant, but he was correct. The giving of the epideural was an experience that I would rather have not had. I was hot, and shaking and terrified. The nurse draped herself over me to keep me hunched in the right position, and I got claustrophobic. Thank God for Ian telling the nurse to stop touching me! The needle had to be put in several times, apparently my spine has a little wiggle in it or something, and every time he poked me, I had a sharp stabbing pain in my hip. Finally he got it in, and the drugs started to flow. Thank God for those drugs.
After the epideural was placed, things got much better for me. I was tired, and I was able to doze through the night to gather some energy. My blood pressure was taken every 15 minutes, so I didn't sleep well, but at that point, anything was better than nothing, and I was able to sleep till the next morning.
To Be Continued....
Thursday, December 29, 2005
One Year Ago...
One year ago today I was pregnant. Very pregnant. Pregnant, uncomfortable, and sick to death of laying down. I had been on bedrest since a jump in my blood pressure on November 19th, and although I had often envied my cats for the life they lead, I didn't want to live life as a cat anymore. I was on the list for induction, but Christmas is a busy time for that sort of thing, and I had been waiting for a phone call since Monday.
The phone rang at 3:00 that afternoon, and it was the hospital. Could I be there before 4:00? If not, then I would have to wait, and who knows when the next chance would be...Probably not till the new year. I said yes, hung up the phone, and called Ian at work. We managed to get to the hospital by about 5 to 4. I was very excited, and very nervous. I was going to be having my baby!
The nurses got me set up in the induction room. There were four beds, and the other three were full, one girl had arrived just before we did. The doctor came, and placed "the gel" to get things started. Things were getting started! yay! Shortly after the gel was placed, I started to feel a little crampy and uncomfortable, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Ian and I hung around, talked and joked, and tried to ignore the whimpering woman in the bed across from me. The nurses would occasionally pop by to see how we were doing, and one kindly offered me an enema. I declined.
The second application of "the gel" was a few hours later. After that one I really started to feel uncomfortable. I spoke to the nurse, and she told me that my uterus was irritable. Mmhmm. The woman across from me went up to Labour and Delivery. Ian went home at around 9.
By about 11, my irritable uterus was making life quite miserable for me. I was turning into the whimpering woman. I couldn't sleep, every time I started to doze, my belly would cramp up, and I would have to change positions. The nurse strapped on the fetal monitor to see if I was having any real contractions. After about 20 minutes, she cheerily told me that it was just my uterus being irritable. At this point, I started to get irritable. By midnight I was in tears, and by 1 in the morning, I was in the Jacuzzi, where I stayed for about 3 hours.
To Be Continued on the 30th...
The phone rang at 3:00 that afternoon, and it was the hospital. Could I be there before 4:00? If not, then I would have to wait, and who knows when the next chance would be...Probably not till the new year. I said yes, hung up the phone, and called Ian at work. We managed to get to the hospital by about 5 to 4. I was very excited, and very nervous. I was going to be having my baby!
The nurses got me set up in the induction room. There were four beds, and the other three were full, one girl had arrived just before we did. The doctor came, and placed "the gel" to get things started. Things were getting started! yay! Shortly after the gel was placed, I started to feel a little crampy and uncomfortable, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Ian and I hung around, talked and joked, and tried to ignore the whimpering woman in the bed across from me. The nurses would occasionally pop by to see how we were doing, and one kindly offered me an enema. I declined.
The second application of "the gel" was a few hours later. After that one I really started to feel uncomfortable. I spoke to the nurse, and she told me that my uterus was irritable. Mmhmm. The woman across from me went up to Labour and Delivery. Ian went home at around 9.
By about 11, my irritable uterus was making life quite miserable for me. I was turning into the whimpering woman. I couldn't sleep, every time I started to doze, my belly would cramp up, and I would have to change positions. The nurse strapped on the fetal monitor to see if I was having any real contractions. After about 20 minutes, she cheerily told me that it was just my uterus being irritable. At this point, I started to get irritable. By midnight I was in tears, and by 1 in the morning, I was in the Jacuzzi, where I stayed for about 3 hours.
To Be Continued on the 30th...
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
We're back!
We had a lovely (mostly) Christmas in Regina, and I just had to show you all this picture! The butterfly on her forhead is from a Christmas Cracker. Isn't she beautiful? If you'd like to see more pictures from our Christmas, you can check out Mary's blog.
Hope you all had a good Christmas, I'll post more tomorrow.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
I've fallen in with the ranks of lollybloggers lately, and I'm not really certain why. There is definitely stuff going on in my life, I just haven't the energy or drive to write about them. I think that part of the problem is that I have been reading a whole lot of blogs out there written by people who are writers, journalists, university graduates...I'm feeling a little bit of blog inadequacy. I've never been terribly creative or a very good writer. I won't get into self pity mode (too much) here, but needless to say, I often feel less than bright next to some of my better educated/smarter friends. I've been overcome lately with a bit of malaise for some reason. It's not that I'm unhappy with my life, honestly, I couldn't be happier. I love where my life is right now, but, I guess I'm unhappy with myself. I always wanted to go to school, I'd like a career. It is easier to stay at home though, when I know that all I have to go back too is a 10 dollar an hour dead end job in retail if I'm lucky.
Anyways, enough with the self pity. Mary and I have been having some adventures on the bus (drug deals going down in the seat behind us), with plumbing (giant holes in the wall behind the toilet) and with Santa. We got her picture taken with the Jolly Old Fellow yesterday, and my little diva who plays it up for the camera would not smile. Not even a little. She didn't cry, she wasn't scared, but she was wide eyed and slack jawed. Until the pictures were finished. Then she smiled. Oh well. It's still pretty darned cute. We got a bunch of pictures to give to the grandparents and friends, it cost a bit, but I think it's worth it. It is her first Christmas, she won't have another. Next year will be a little more frugal with the pictures.
You know, when I get all self pitying, I just end up annoying myself. What do I have to feel sorry for myself about, really? I have family, wonderful wonderful friends for whom I am incredibly grateful, a roof over my head, food, a beautiful, healthy baby, a fabulous husband who loves me in spite of my many (a great many) flaws. I live in a fantastic country where I am safe to walk the streets without worrying about bombs, mines or guns.
So, today I read a story about a woman who was on her way to Italy with her family, for the holidays I think. Anyways, the people at the counter would not print up boarding passes because her 9 month old son was on the USA's no fly list. She thought it was funny at first until they told her that there is no way for him to get off of the list. Wow. You can read all about it here if you wish.
This week I've been getting an early start on my New Years Resolution. I hate those things, and hardly every make one, but this is something I've been trying to do for the last year, and I figured now is as good a time as any. I've turned off the T.V. I still watch some, but I'm trying to keep the tube off when Mary is up and about. I watch all together too much telly, and I don't like that Mary watches it too. I generally just keep it on for noise in the house, but I can listen to CBC1 for that, and it'll be better for my brain as well as the baby's, right? If I really do want to better myself, there are things that I can start doing at home to get things started. I'm just so incredibly lazy, it's hard sometimes.
Anyways, I guess I should sign off. We are off to Regina tomorrow (um. yay?) for the holidays, and we will be back on Tuesday afternoon (I think...the 28th, whatever day that is). I may or may not post here, depending on my mood, and whether I can fight the 3 teenagers for a moment on the computer.
I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas, or a Happy Holiday, whichever holiday you choose to observe, or if you don't choose to observe a holiday at all...well, have a happy one anyways.
Anyways, enough with the self pity. Mary and I have been having some adventures on the bus (drug deals going down in the seat behind us), with plumbing (giant holes in the wall behind the toilet) and with Santa. We got her picture taken with the Jolly Old Fellow yesterday, and my little diva who plays it up for the camera would not smile. Not even a little. She didn't cry, she wasn't scared, but she was wide eyed and slack jawed. Until the pictures were finished. Then she smiled. Oh well. It's still pretty darned cute. We got a bunch of pictures to give to the grandparents and friends, it cost a bit, but I think it's worth it. It is her first Christmas, she won't have another. Next year will be a little more frugal with the pictures.
You know, when I get all self pitying, I just end up annoying myself. What do I have to feel sorry for myself about, really? I have family, wonderful wonderful friends for whom I am incredibly grateful, a roof over my head, food, a beautiful, healthy baby, a fabulous husband who loves me in spite of my many (a great many) flaws. I live in a fantastic country where I am safe to walk the streets without worrying about bombs, mines or guns.
So, today I read a story about a woman who was on her way to Italy with her family, for the holidays I think. Anyways, the people at the counter would not print up boarding passes because her 9 month old son was on the USA's no fly list. She thought it was funny at first until they told her that there is no way for him to get off of the list. Wow. You can read all about it here if you wish.
This week I've been getting an early start on my New Years Resolution. I hate those things, and hardly every make one, but this is something I've been trying to do for the last year, and I figured now is as good a time as any. I've turned off the T.V. I still watch some, but I'm trying to keep the tube off when Mary is up and about. I watch all together too much telly, and I don't like that Mary watches it too. I generally just keep it on for noise in the house, but I can listen to CBC1 for that, and it'll be better for my brain as well as the baby's, right? If I really do want to better myself, there are things that I can start doing at home to get things started. I'm just so incredibly lazy, it's hard sometimes.
Anyways, I guess I should sign off. We are off to Regina tomorrow (um. yay?) for the holidays, and we will be back on Tuesday afternoon (I think...the 28th, whatever day that is). I may or may not post here, depending on my mood, and whether I can fight the 3 teenagers for a moment on the computer.
I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas, or a Happy Holiday, whichever holiday you choose to observe, or if you don't choose to observe a holiday at all...well, have a happy one anyways.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Something cute
I don't really feel like blogging today, but take a look at this, it's darn cute, and seasonal too.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Things I've Learned Today
1. With the condition our plumbing was in, it's amazing that our house has not up and floated away long ago.
2. Plumbers are incredibly messy, destructive people.
3. Plumbers are not paid to clean up after themselves.
4. Even the best baby turns into a screaming monster after only 5 hours of sleep in a night.
5. The plumbing is just the tip of the iceberg in this house.
2. Plumbers are incredibly messy, destructive people.
3. Plumbers are not paid to clean up after themselves.
4. Even the best baby turns into a screaming monster after only 5 hours of sleep in a night.
5. The plumbing is just the tip of the iceberg in this house.
Woe is me
I'm sick. I've got a stomach flu or something, I was up all night barfing. To say that I got a full 15 minutes of sleep would be extremely generous. Mary (who is currently screaming her lungs out) went to bed last night at 7:30. She was up at 10, midnight, 2 AM, and got up for the day at 5:30. Ian is at work. The pipes are being replaced today, for which I am thankful, but replacing the pipes is extremely noisy work, and without any water, we will be driven from the house. No napping. For either of us, though I suspect Mary will sleep in the car. I can't do that.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Friday Baby Blogging
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Christmas Memories
I read today about a poll in which families were asked what they left out for Santa. 48% said milk and cookies, 29% said just cookies, and the rest left milk, cookies, and carrots. It got me to thinking about our experiences with Santa. When we were kids, we always left out milk and cookies, and on Christmas morning we were thrilled to find that Santa raided the liquor cabinet too. He was a messy fellow, leaving crumbs all over the place, and liquor bottles scattered around the dining room table, some on their sides, some on the floor. After the first time it happened, we thought that we could minimize the mess by leaving him brandy as well as the cookies and milk, but that never worked either...Santa likes variety, and although he drank the brandy, he always got into the other stuff too. One year I was doubting that Santa actually existed, so he wrote me a letter in Chinese and that put all my doubts aside. It didn't click until years later that my Grandfather was there that year, and he was raised in China.
I've been thinking a lot about the traditions that we had when I was growing up. We were far away from all of our family, so at Christmas it was just the four of us. My parents worked so hard to make Christmas a special time for us, and it was never just about the gifts. We had rituals that we would do on and around Christmas, and it just didn't feel the same if we didn't do it just right. My Dad and I would spend a lot of time at church, and my Mum and brother would bake, and cook brunch for us on Christmas day. On Christmas morning my brother and I usually slept in (I was tired from a long night at church, I was usually there from 4 till well after midnight). When we got up we would open our stockings, and read the letter that Santa always left for us. We could tell that he was drinking, usually by the end of the letter his writing was illegible. After the stockings, we would have a quick bite to eat, and Dad and I would head back to church, while Mum and Andrew cooked brunch. When we got back from church, we would all sit around the table and eat brunch, and my dad would drink gallons of coffee. He always said "Okay, after this cup of coffee, we'll open the presents" and he always had another cup. After brunch, if the weather was nice, we would all go for a long walk through the neighborhood. Finally we would get home, and open our gifts, one at a time. Usually we would be finished with the gifts around 4 in the afternoon. After that, Mum and Dad would work on supper, Andrew and I would set the table, and clean up the living room, before checking out our gifts a little more closely. Usually we would eat supper at around 7 (we were always late eaters). By time supper was finished, and dishes were done, we were all so tired that we'd just go to bed early. The way we did it, the day seemed so long, and exciting, and fun. I can't imagine how you would make Christmas feel as special if all the gifts were opened first thing in the morning, and everyone went their separate ways.
Now we need to come up with our own traditions for Mary. I'd like to do the same sort of thing for her as my parents did for us. I want Christmas to be more about being together as a little family than it is about the gifts. I guess we have some time before we really need to worry about it. Christmas for her this year is likely to be much the same as any other day...But next year she will be two, she will understand a little bit more, I think.
How did/do you and your families make Christmas special?
I've been thinking a lot about the traditions that we had when I was growing up. We were far away from all of our family, so at Christmas it was just the four of us. My parents worked so hard to make Christmas a special time for us, and it was never just about the gifts. We had rituals that we would do on and around Christmas, and it just didn't feel the same if we didn't do it just right. My Dad and I would spend a lot of time at church, and my Mum and brother would bake, and cook brunch for us on Christmas day. On Christmas morning my brother and I usually slept in (I was tired from a long night at church, I was usually there from 4 till well after midnight). When we got up we would open our stockings, and read the letter that Santa always left for us. We could tell that he was drinking, usually by the end of the letter his writing was illegible. After the stockings, we would have a quick bite to eat, and Dad and I would head back to church, while Mum and Andrew cooked brunch. When we got back from church, we would all sit around the table and eat brunch, and my dad would drink gallons of coffee. He always said "Okay, after this cup of coffee, we'll open the presents" and he always had another cup. After brunch, if the weather was nice, we would all go for a long walk through the neighborhood. Finally we would get home, and open our gifts, one at a time. Usually we would be finished with the gifts around 4 in the afternoon. After that, Mum and Dad would work on supper, Andrew and I would set the table, and clean up the living room, before checking out our gifts a little more closely. Usually we would eat supper at around 7 (we were always late eaters). By time supper was finished, and dishes were done, we were all so tired that we'd just go to bed early. The way we did it, the day seemed so long, and exciting, and fun. I can't imagine how you would make Christmas feel as special if all the gifts were opened first thing in the morning, and everyone went their separate ways.
Now we need to come up with our own traditions for Mary. I'd like to do the same sort of thing for her as my parents did for us. I want Christmas to be more about being together as a little family than it is about the gifts. I guess we have some time before we really need to worry about it. Christmas for her this year is likely to be much the same as any other day...But next year she will be two, she will understand a little bit more, I think.
How did/do you and your families make Christmas special?
To our Anonymous Benefactor
For some reason, you want to remain unknown, and I respect that. I just hope you know how grateful and touched we are that you would do that for us. When Ian got off the phone from speaking to R & C and told me what you had done, I cried. No one has ever done something this kind and generous for us before.
We would have been okay, we were working things out, but it was going to be tough. Now, because of you, we will be able to afford Christmas gifts for each other, and for Mary. We won't have to struggle to make ends meet through January. Thank you.
You know, what you've done has really made me realize how lucky we are. We have such a fabulous group of friends here. Even though Edmonton is far away from both of our families, the friends we have really make up for any lack.
Anyways, all I can say is Thank You. I hope that some day Ian and I have the opportunity to do something similar for someone who's having a difficult time.
We would have been okay, we were working things out, but it was going to be tough. Now, because of you, we will be able to afford Christmas gifts for each other, and for Mary. We won't have to struggle to make ends meet through January. Thank you.
You know, what you've done has really made me realize how lucky we are. We have such a fabulous group of friends here. Even though Edmonton is far away from both of our families, the friends we have really make up for any lack.
Anyways, all I can say is Thank You. I hope that some day Ian and I have the opportunity to do something similar for someone who's having a difficult time.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Beer and Popcorn
I feel like beer, and popcorn. I think that instead of spending every penny to my name on making my child comfortable, you know, food, diapers, a safe, warm place to live, toys to play with, books to read, a car to get around so Daddy can get to work and make more money to spend on stuff for the baby...I think instead, I will just buy beer and popcorn. I wonder if I can trade in the baby food that we have in the cupboard...
So, most of you have probably heard what two top dudes in the Liberal party said this weekend. I have not commented on it here yet because I am livid. Absolutely livid. I did write a letter to the Liberal party explaining that because of those two dopes, they have definately lost my vote. Any party who feels that way about parents, well, forget it.
The whole thing came up because of the Conservatives attempt to bribe parents into voting for them by promising $1200 a year for each child under 6. While it's tempting, really, $100 a month is almost insulting, to be honest. That wouldn't cover even a week of full time daycare, and it would buy 1 box of diapers and 2 tins of formula. Yippee. While they were attempting to shoot down the whole plan, two liberals, on two separate occasions said that parents would be more likely to spend the money on Beer and other things, like popcorn, cars, cd's, dvd's, than they would on their children. Honestly, what were they thinking?
I've said it before, and I will say it again. Why should those of us who chose to stay home with our kids, or who chose to put our kids into unregulated child care be punished by not receiving the same amount of help that working parents/people who are lucky enough to work a 9-5 job and thus can put their kids into daycares that are only open from 8-6? On top of that, they seem to be saying that I am incapable of raising my child. She should be with professionals, in an institutionalized envirnment so she can reach her full potential. right. I'm of the opinion that no one out there is better suited to raise my child than I am.
I think that the bottom line is that the government does not want parents to stay at home. When I am not working, I'm not making an income. When I don't have an income, the government can't make money off of me through income tax. When I'm not working, we aren't making enough money to spend on useless, frivolous crap (ah, how I miss thee, useless, frivolous crap) so the economy suffers, and again, the government isn't getting their 7% GST.
So, this election, although it may be throwing away my vote, I'll be voting Green. I just can't bring myself to vote for any of the major parties right now, they're all the same, really.
So, most of you have probably heard what two top dudes in the Liberal party said this weekend. I have not commented on it here yet because I am livid. Absolutely livid. I did write a letter to the Liberal party explaining that because of those two dopes, they have definately lost my vote. Any party who feels that way about parents, well, forget it.
The whole thing came up because of the Conservatives attempt to bribe parents into voting for them by promising $1200 a year for each child under 6. While it's tempting, really, $100 a month is almost insulting, to be honest. That wouldn't cover even a week of full time daycare, and it would buy 1 box of diapers and 2 tins of formula. Yippee. While they were attempting to shoot down the whole plan, two liberals, on two separate occasions said that parents would be more likely to spend the money on Beer and other things, like popcorn, cars, cd's, dvd's, than they would on their children. Honestly, what were they thinking?
I've said it before, and I will say it again. Why should those of us who chose to stay home with our kids, or who chose to put our kids into unregulated child care be punished by not receiving the same amount of help that working parents/people who are lucky enough to work a 9-5 job and thus can put their kids into daycares that are only open from 8-6? On top of that, they seem to be saying that I am incapable of raising my child. She should be with professionals, in an institutionalized envirnment so she can reach her full potential. right. I'm of the opinion that no one out there is better suited to raise my child than I am.
I think that the bottom line is that the government does not want parents to stay at home. When I am not working, I'm not making an income. When I don't have an income, the government can't make money off of me through income tax. When I'm not working, we aren't making enough money to spend on useless, frivolous crap (ah, how I miss thee, useless, frivolous crap) so the economy suffers, and again, the government isn't getting their 7% GST.
So, this election, although it may be throwing away my vote, I'll be voting Green. I just can't bring myself to vote for any of the major parties right now, they're all the same, really.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Update
We went to the doctor today, and he checked Miss Mary out. He said that he doesn't think we need to be concerned, it's just peripheral cyanosis, which means she gets blue when she gets cold. So for now we are just going to keep an eye on her, and if it gets worse, then we go back.
Also, Mary started walking today. She's extremely unsteady, and her record is 5 steps before collapsing on me, but it's a start. Yay!
Also, Mary started walking today. She's extremely unsteady, and her record is 5 steps before collapsing on me, but it's a start. Yay!
Home for the Holidays (in which Jennifer tosses her cookies)
What an interesting weekend.
On Friday my new stove arrived. Yay! It's very nice, and works quite well. As soon as it got here I started baking like a mad-woman, as I had my cookie exchange on Saturday, and had not started anything. The baking went okay, but every 4th dozen or so just refused to bake. It was incredibly annoying. The first time it happened, I was a little puzzled and annoyed. I baked the cookies for an extra 30 minutes, and still, they were just greasy balls of uncooked dough. The second time it happened I was a little more annoyed, and a little frustrated. The third time I was livid. Thankfully it was the last dozen I needed to bake, and I had already made some mincemeat tarts.
The exchange itself went well enough. The house got cleaned up, cookies were baked, there were crackers, smoked oysters, pickles and cheese, and of course, red wine. There was only one point that there were more people than chairs, the cats and Mary were all very well behaved. I was pretty stressed out for a week or so before the party, but I'm quite glad that I went through with it.
On Thursday Ian asked his boss what was going on at Christmas and was told that they would be shutting down from December 20th till Jan 2nd or 3rd, and that he ought to bank his hours. Um, right. It would have been really nice to have been told that a little more than a week in advance, you know? Anyways, we've decided that we will go back to Regina for Christmas now. It's going to be stressful, I think, and dificult, but my Dad was thrilled when I told him. I think we will only be going for a few days, and we will be back here before Mary's birthday.
On Saturday, our kitchen and bathroom sinks started to empty straight into the basement. This is not good. We called our friend who is a plumber and asked him to pop by to see what is up. We were hoping that it would be something simple and cheap. No such luck. His exact words were "It just gave up. The plumbing just quit. So, next weekend I will re-plum your house." Ho Ho Ho. Merry Christmas. So, not only will we not have any income over the holidays, but we will need to pay out $1500 for the plumbing (which is a steal, really). Oh, and we bought a new (1984 S10) truck for Ian before all this happened that we need to register and insure. Yay! When it rains, it pours. Anyways, if all this happened a few months ago, I would be freaking out, but now...well...I'm starting to get used to the fact that the universe is out to get us. Every time we seem to be getting ahead, something else happens. Bah. We will handle it, although it does mean that we will need to cash in all our RRSP's.
My biggest concern right now is Mary. For the last couple of weeks she has been going blue in the lips and fingers. Now, you may think that I'm a bad Mum for not taking her to the doctor immediately, but I tend to over-react, and I know this. So I just assumed that I was imagining things, right? Anyways, over the weekend Ian started to notice it too, so I now know that I'm not crazy. I've got a doctors appointment this afternoon with the pediatritian, and I'm worried. She did have some heart issues when she was born, but they told us that it was nothing to worry about...but what if it was something to worry about? Anyways, I had best get my act together, we have to walk to the Dr's office and I'm not sure how long it'll take.
On Friday my new stove arrived. Yay! It's very nice, and works quite well. As soon as it got here I started baking like a mad-woman, as I had my cookie exchange on Saturday, and had not started anything. The baking went okay, but every 4th dozen or so just refused to bake. It was incredibly annoying. The first time it happened, I was a little puzzled and annoyed. I baked the cookies for an extra 30 minutes, and still, they were just greasy balls of uncooked dough. The second time it happened I was a little more annoyed, and a little frustrated. The third time I was livid. Thankfully it was the last dozen I needed to bake, and I had already made some mincemeat tarts.
The exchange itself went well enough. The house got cleaned up, cookies were baked, there were crackers, smoked oysters, pickles and cheese, and of course, red wine. There was only one point that there were more people than chairs, the cats and Mary were all very well behaved. I was pretty stressed out for a week or so before the party, but I'm quite glad that I went through with it.
On Thursday Ian asked his boss what was going on at Christmas and was told that they would be shutting down from December 20th till Jan 2nd or 3rd, and that he ought to bank his hours. Um, right. It would have been really nice to have been told that a little more than a week in advance, you know? Anyways, we've decided that we will go back to Regina for Christmas now. It's going to be stressful, I think, and dificult, but my Dad was thrilled when I told him. I think we will only be going for a few days, and we will be back here before Mary's birthday.
On Saturday, our kitchen and bathroom sinks started to empty straight into the basement. This is not good. We called our friend who is a plumber and asked him to pop by to see what is up. We were hoping that it would be something simple and cheap. No such luck. His exact words were "It just gave up. The plumbing just quit. So, next weekend I will re-plum your house." Ho Ho Ho. Merry Christmas. So, not only will we not have any income over the holidays, but we will need to pay out $1500 for the plumbing (which is a steal, really). Oh, and we bought a new (1984 S10) truck for Ian before all this happened that we need to register and insure. Yay! When it rains, it pours. Anyways, if all this happened a few months ago, I would be freaking out, but now...well...I'm starting to get used to the fact that the universe is out to get us. Every time we seem to be getting ahead, something else happens. Bah. We will handle it, although it does mean that we will need to cash in all our RRSP's.
My biggest concern right now is Mary. For the last couple of weeks she has been going blue in the lips and fingers. Now, you may think that I'm a bad Mum for not taking her to the doctor immediately, but I tend to over-react, and I know this. So I just assumed that I was imagining things, right? Anyways, over the weekend Ian started to notice it too, so I now know that I'm not crazy. I've got a doctors appointment this afternoon with the pediatritian, and I'm worried. She did have some heart issues when she was born, but they told us that it was nothing to worry about...but what if it was something to worry about? Anyways, I had best get my act together, we have to walk to the Dr's office and I'm not sure how long it'll take.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Searching for good
In his blog today, Emmett laments that he no longer sees Christians as doing good, as being peacemakers and helpers. It makes me sad that the loudmouthed extremists have taken so much of the light that people identify Christianity with haterid, instead of love. Anyways, I have decided to bring some local and international services to light, both Christian and non, I think that it's important that people realise that in spite of the nastiness that takes up so much of the limelight, there are a lot of people out there doing good.
First, there is the Bissell Centre. While they are not specifially a christian organization, they depend on churches around the city to volunteer and donate. Several years ago I volunteered with my church there for Thanksgiving. Their mission is simple, neighbours helping neighbours improve their quality of life, and combat poverty.
We have the Salvation Army, an international organization, and a Christian church. They work through out the year to fight poverty, and to help those in need. Although they are most obvious at Christmas time with their Kettle Campaign (which Mary and I are working this year), they work hard all year round to do what they can. Their ministry is motivated by love for God and the needs of humanity. They respect the dignity of everyone they work with, and they try to embody God's love, reaching out to others and caring for them.
There is Catholic Social Services. They work hard in the city to help others, no matter what their religion or denomination. They have several projects in Edmonton, including a Safe House for street kids, Karios programs for people with HIV/AIDS, First Steps programs for women who are at risk for giving birth to kids with FASD, and programs to help immigrant families get settled in their new city.
Pax Christi is a Catholic organization that fights for peace all over the world. Many of the members take vows of non violence. I don't know a lot about this organization, they seem to be mainly in the US, I think that Goody would know more about them than I do.
The Anglican church in Canada has the PWRDF, The Primates World Relief and Development Fund.
Anyways, there are a whole lot of stupid and horrible people out there, and that is not limited to the Christian faith, but there are also a whole pile people who want to help, and who work to help (again, this is not restricted to Christianity in the least). With all the ugliness in the world, we just have to look a little harder to see the beauty, but once you do, it will warm your heart.
First, there is the Bissell Centre. While they are not specifially a christian organization, they depend on churches around the city to volunteer and donate. Several years ago I volunteered with my church there for Thanksgiving. Their mission is simple, neighbours helping neighbours improve their quality of life, and combat poverty.
We have the Salvation Army, an international organization, and a Christian church. They work through out the year to fight poverty, and to help those in need. Although they are most obvious at Christmas time with their Kettle Campaign (which Mary and I are working this year), they work hard all year round to do what they can. Their ministry is motivated by love for God and the needs of humanity. They respect the dignity of everyone they work with, and they try to embody God's love, reaching out to others and caring for them.
There is Catholic Social Services. They work hard in the city to help others, no matter what their religion or denomination. They have several projects in Edmonton, including a Safe House for street kids, Karios programs for people with HIV/AIDS, First Steps programs for women who are at risk for giving birth to kids with FASD, and programs to help immigrant families get settled in their new city.
Pax Christi is a Catholic organization that fights for peace all over the world. Many of the members take vows of non violence. I don't know a lot about this organization, they seem to be mainly in the US, I think that Goody would know more about them than I do.
The Anglican church in Canada has the PWRDF, The Primates World Relief and Development Fund.
PWRDF is a response by Canadian Anglicans to the gospel call to bear witness to God's healing love in a broken world. Inspired by the vision of a spirit-filled community of hope, PWRDF walks together with partners in Canada and overseas to share in the creation of a more just and peaceful world. In joy and struggle, the Primate's Fund engages in development work, responds to emergencies, works to protect refugees, and educates and advocates for change.
Anyways, there are a whole lot of stupid and horrible people out there, and that is not limited to the Christian faith, but there are also a whole pile people who want to help, and who work to help (again, this is not restricted to Christianity in the least). With all the ugliness in the world, we just have to look a little harder to see the beauty, but once you do, it will warm your heart.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Inner City
The neighbourhood that we live in is decidedly unsavoury, we are in fact, "Inner City," but there are far worse area's than ours. Now, the community league does not like that label (understandably), and is campaigning to have the media call us by our actual name, Parkdale-Cromdale. They do have a legitimate beef, I think. The nicer neighbourhoods are always called by their name in the news, but we are just inner city. You know, I'm not really sure where I was going with this when I started, aside from the fact that the more affluent neighbourhoods in the city have their share of problems too. Yesterday a boy was shot to death, not in the inner city, but in Riverbend, where people with lots of money live, or people who are willing to make serious sacrifices to escape inner city living. I'd also like to say that inner city neighbourhoods have their share of good people too. Our neighbours here are fabulous people, and although there have been some problems with a couple of houses across the street we are relatively happy here. Last night a house a few doors down burned down, and the neighbours were there to take relative strangers into their homes.
Today it is even colder out than yesterday. Poor Ian. Poor me for having to wait for the bus yet again. Apparantly there is a Chinook or something coming through at the end of the week, yay! On the news yesterday they reported that for people in the highly populated parts of Canada this winter would be brutal, dry and cold, but for those of us who live further north it's supposed to be relatively warm, and wet. Yay for us! I'm pleased that I live in northern Canada, I just want to see this warmness soon.
Today it is even colder out than yesterday. Poor Ian. Poor me for having to wait for the bus yet again. Apparantly there is a Chinook or something coming through at the end of the week, yay! On the news yesterday they reported that for people in the highly populated parts of Canada this winter would be brutal, dry and cold, but for those of us who live further north it's supposed to be relatively warm, and wet. Yay for us! I'm pleased that I live in northern Canada, I just want to see this warmness soon.
Monday, December 05, 2005
so...cold...
Well, winter has come with a vengance. It was a chilly weekend, but today...oh my. The snow, the wind, the cold. We've gotten 5 cm of snow so far this morning, and with the wind chill it feels like it's -30 celcius. Yick. I'm just glad that Mary and I only have to walk a couple of blocks to the bus. I am worried about Ian though. This is not the kind of weather that anyone ought to be working 10 hours in. There is a light at the end of the tunnel though. Apparantly it will be back above freezing by friday. Yay!
This weekend went well. Saturday Ian, Mary and I went to a Christmas party that an old friend of mine was putting on for her daughter. It was pretty fun for Ian and I, and Mary had an absolute blast. An afternoon with 10 2 year olds, and a few babies...there were amazingly few temper tantrums.
Saturday night was T's game, Paradise Lost. Yet again it was a festival of misery and angst for me and the rest of the divine. The highlite of the game was when one of the infernal characters announced the resurrection of a character who had eaten several of us divine alive. I really thought I was going to throw up. The focus of the game turned out to be something completely different though. A stuffed monkey was given to one of the characters by the angels, and the infernal got all up in arms about it. They were perfectly okay with the flesh eating maniac being brought back to life...but an innocent (well, maybe not so innocent) stuffed monkey could not be allowed to exist.
Yesterday Ian worked, and both Mary and I were feeling somewhat under the weather, so be both stayed in our jammies all day long and I turned up the heat. It was fantastic (aside from the whining and screaming that errupted from time to time). When Ian got home, I cooked him supper like the happy housewife I am, and we hung out watching telly and chatting for the rest of the evening. Mary was up super late, for some reason she was incredibly cheery and alert. In hind sight it could have been because of all the ice cream I shared with her after supper. Hmm.
This weekend went well. Saturday Ian, Mary and I went to a Christmas party that an old friend of mine was putting on for her daughter. It was pretty fun for Ian and I, and Mary had an absolute blast. An afternoon with 10 2 year olds, and a few babies...there were amazingly few temper tantrums.
Saturday night was T's game, Paradise Lost. Yet again it was a festival of misery and angst for me and the rest of the divine. The highlite of the game was when one of the infernal characters announced the resurrection of a character who had eaten several of us divine alive. I really thought I was going to throw up. The focus of the game turned out to be something completely different though. A stuffed monkey was given to one of the characters by the angels, and the infernal got all up in arms about it. They were perfectly okay with the flesh eating maniac being brought back to life...but an innocent (well, maybe not so innocent) stuffed monkey could not be allowed to exist.
Yesterday Ian worked, and both Mary and I were feeling somewhat under the weather, so be both stayed in our jammies all day long and I turned up the heat. It was fantastic (aside from the whining and screaming that errupted from time to time). When Ian got home, I cooked him supper like the happy housewife I am, and we hung out watching telly and chatting for the rest of the evening. Mary was up super late, for some reason she was incredibly cheery and alert. In hind sight it could have been because of all the ice cream I shared with her after supper. Hmm.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Pros and Cons
Most of you don't know this (mostly cause we haven't really told anyone), but Ian and I are seriously considering a move, yet again. So seriously, that we are both applying for jobs. Since visiting my Mum and all my family out west, I would like to go to the West Coast, and Ian is on board. I thought I would take a moment here to weigh the pros and cons of a move.
Pro's:
- Family. All my aunts, uncles, and most of my cousins and their children live in and around Vancouver. I'd like my kids to grow up knowing their cousins in a way I never did because we lived so far away.
- My Mum and little brother both live in that area. I miss my mother desperately, and my visit with her really brought that to light. Also, she does not work, and would be happy to look after Mary so that I can get a job.
- It's the west coast, for crying out loud! Ever since I can remember, I have planned to live there some day. Flowers bloom all year round, the mountains are an hour away, the ocean is right there, the climate is warmer. Why not do it now while we are still young enough and are roots aren't too deep?
Con's:
- I like Edmonton. Edmonton has been good to me, and I'm happy here.
- Jobs are better here in Edmonton.
- We have fantastic friends here that we would hate to leave behind.
- The cost of living is a whole lot more in and around Vancouver, although where we are looking at, the Fraser Valley, is not so costly, and fresh veggies are much cheaper.
- We would be moving even farther from Ian's family. Of course what's one more province west, when they are all the way in Nova Scotia?
- Snow vs. Rain. I like snow, I think I'd really miss it. It does rain a lot on the west coast, and being a prarie girl, that'll take some getting used too.
That's all I can come up with right at the moment. Like I said, we've been doing some looking at jobs and houses out there. Right now we are thinking that we can afford a modular home, probably in Mission, which is about 45 minutes from downtown Vancouver. Some of them are very pretty. We haven't made our decision yet, but as every day passes it looks more and more likely that we will be out there before next Christmas.
Pro's:
- Family. All my aunts, uncles, and most of my cousins and their children live in and around Vancouver. I'd like my kids to grow up knowing their cousins in a way I never did because we lived so far away.
- My Mum and little brother both live in that area. I miss my mother desperately, and my visit with her really brought that to light. Also, she does not work, and would be happy to look after Mary so that I can get a job.
- It's the west coast, for crying out loud! Ever since I can remember, I have planned to live there some day. Flowers bloom all year round, the mountains are an hour away, the ocean is right there, the climate is warmer. Why not do it now while we are still young enough and are roots aren't too deep?
Con's:
- I like Edmonton. Edmonton has been good to me, and I'm happy here.
- Jobs are better here in Edmonton.
- We have fantastic friends here that we would hate to leave behind.
- The cost of living is a whole lot more in and around Vancouver, although where we are looking at, the Fraser Valley, is not so costly, and fresh veggies are much cheaper.
- We would be moving even farther from Ian's family. Of course what's one more province west, when they are all the way in Nova Scotia?
- Snow vs. Rain. I like snow, I think I'd really miss it. It does rain a lot on the west coast, and being a prarie girl, that'll take some getting used too.
That's all I can come up with right at the moment. Like I said, we've been doing some looking at jobs and houses out there. Right now we are thinking that we can afford a modular home, probably in Mission, which is about 45 minutes from downtown Vancouver. Some of them are very pretty. We haven't made our decision yet, but as every day passes it looks more and more likely that we will be out there before next Christmas.
Friday Baby Blogging
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