Archive | March, 2008

Not a good sign

30 Mar

While I managed to almost have a breakdown over some imagined hint-of-pink a few weeks ago, I am doing the very opposite today. 

Today, there was no hint — I was actually bleeding.  And yet, I don’t seem to be reacting much at all.  Partly, I’m just not willing to panic yet; bleeding does not necessarily mean that this pregnancy is doomed to failure.  I’ve had a number of women tell me about their first-trimester bleeding where everything turned out just fine, and the statistics support that possibility. 

It’s probably true that part of my calmness is simply that I’m trying not to think about it too much.  I actually spent several hours this evening on the uninspiring, unrewarding, and very tiring chore of filing — a brain-numbing activity if there ever was one.

Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve been waiting for the end of the month.  I have an appointment with Dr. Gudapati (a pre-natal visit) tomorrow morning, and I have an ultrasound booked for Tuesday afternoon.  This is an ultrasound that was booked before I found out I was pregnant (to follow up on some things from my annual exam) but of course I’ve been thinking it would be a good way to confirm things are going okay.  Now I really feel like I’ll be holding my breath until then.

I wonder if the serenity can last.

Jade at 26 months

28 Mar

Black and White Jade

If Jade ever runs up to you waving a toy (or other object) and says, “Wock? Wock? Wock?” you should know that it’s your cue to cuddle the toy (or other object) in your arms, and rock it tenderly while singing it a lullaby. Sometimes it’s a doll and sometimes it’s a stuffed animal, but I’ve also been asked to rock telephones, milk bottles, and drinking vessels, although I generally refuse to show affection for these more mundane objects. This has actually been a game of Jade’s for a few months, but I keep forgetting to mention it. It grew out of a routine we had for a short time, rocking Jade to “Rock-a-Bye Baby”, with requisite “falls” at the appropriate time, before putting her to bed for the night.

Arriving at Lake Laberge

Sometimes she’ll give me something to sing to and keep something for herself so that we’ll both be rocking someone at the same time. And I’ve even found her, once or twice, simply doing it herself.

I always curse our digital camera richness at these times. In the “old days” of film cameras, we might not have taken as many pictures, but at least Jade would have been more likely to maintain a particular position long enough to photograph it. With the digital camera, she instantly wants to come look at pictures on the wrong side of the lens. In the last month or so she’s gotten a bit better at staying put when asked, but it’s still impossible to capture these spontaneous moments where my heart is down in my toes because it’s melted into a puddle.

Jade still isn’t into naming her colours yet, but I know she’s not colour blind because of her innate sorting instincts. She has a stacking toy made up of 8 nesting blocks that she plays with many mornings when she’s having a shower with Michael. Instead of stacking them up or nesting them together, she always matches each of the two pieces that are of the same colour and puts the smaller one inside the larger one. It makes me laugh every time I go to tidy up the shower, and is a small relief; I never actually worried about it, but there is some colour-blindness in the family.

Jade hunting Easter eggsOn the other hand, Jade loves to name shapes, and will gleefully point out squares, triangles, circles, and flowers (didn’t you know that’s a standard shape?) . Everything has to have a label these days (“Whassat?” still being a favourite word) and once she knows what an object is, it’s important to her to specify whose it is. “Jade’s seat. Mummy’s seat. Papa’s seat. Jade’s p’ate. Mummy’s hat. Papa’s ‘puter.” (Yes, she calls our ever-present laptops ‘puters.)

Speaking of labels, I think I have lost the battle to be a Mama. I don’t know if it’s because of daycare or because everyone around us seems to say, “Mummy”, but whatever the reason, Jade says “Mummy” and doesn’t even pay attention anymore when I try to suggest Mama instead. Ah well, the original idea was that I’d actually speak to her in French or German or Chinese once in a while, which sadly I don’t, so I suppose it doesn’t matter much to have an anglophone title. *sigh*

Jade’s favourite physical activities these days are kicksledding (check out Michael’s post and pictures on this) and jumping. She loves it when Michael holds her under her arms and helps her leap high into the air, but even without the boost she loves to jump up and say “hop” after each jump. I always cringe a bit because she lands on flat feet and my mom always said it’s bad for the spine to come down too hard on one’s heels.  At least she’s still light for now, so I don’t think she’ll shock her brain too much.

Jade enjoyed Easter out at Lake Laberge and had fun hunting for Easter eggs (with some help). Am I the only one who really doesn’t like to let her toddler eat chocolate? It still seems like a lot of sugar and caffeine to me for such a little body, so Jade’s had chocolate literally a handful of times. Well, maybe two hands-full, if you count chocolate-chip cookies. I don’t think Jade even knows those eggs have chocolate inside them. I wonder if she notices that a few of them disappear each evening…

We haven’t had a lot of opportunities to visit with babies lately, but when we do, I’ve found that Jade seems a bit less jealous of them than she was before. She doesn’t seem to mind quite as much if I have a baby or another child on my lap. The day after I found out I was pregnant, I was cuddling her on the couch and told her, “It looks like we’re going to have a new baby here in about 8 or 9 months. What do you think of having a new baby?” She looked at me with her big, blue eyes, pointed to herself and shouted happily, “Baby!” Despite being more than two now, well, I guess it’s true that she’s still my baby.

Jade’s bunny ears

The benefits of a tidy house

25 Mar

Yesterday morning, Jade and I were home alone because Michael was out spring camping with his brother and Norris and Nanuq.  I wasn’t at all ready to get up when Jade was, so I spent the first few hours of the morning reclining on the couch and on my bed while Jade played.

She had decided to put on her “Squeaky Feet” shoes, so I could hear her, even though we weren’t in the same room.  I could also hear her talking to herself, and some occasional thumps as she moved things around.  I did get up to check on her occasionally, but didn’t do anything to interfere with her fun.  By the end of my lollygagging, she had removed almost an entire set of “Children’s Nature” books from the shelves and piled them on the floor, pretty much in the main drag that leads to the stairs.  Instead of putting them away, I simply shoved them aside as we went upstairs to find a snack.

That sets the stage.  Next comes the part where the boys came back from their camping trip.  We looked at pictures of their adventures and Michael praised Nanuq for working so hard pulling the kicksled, which Norris rode most of the time because he’s got a gimpy knee these days.  As a reward, Nanuq had been given two big chunks of salmon and a goodly portion of steak.

At some point fairly late in the evening, I suddenly remembered that today was a work day, which meant packing lunches and such.  Hey, it’s been four whole days since this work thing happened; who can blame me if the routine was a little off-kilter?  By the time I finished packing lunches (which I’d had to actually cook, since there were no leftovers from our extremely mediocre A&W supper-on-the-run) I flopped into bed, forgetting to put Nanuq to bed in his crate.

So, what do you get when you have a pile of books on the floor and a dog full of unfamiliar people food and free to roam the house at night?  Well, Michael can tell you all about it because he stepped in it as he was coming upstairs this morning.  Dog diarrhea.  Multiple deposits.  Most of them strategically placed on the heads of highly educational grouse, moose, bears, butterflies, and other defenseless wildlife unable to run away, bound as they were to the pages to which their likenesses were affixed.

The good news was that these being hard-cover books, some of them could actually be salvaged.  It even gave me the opportunity to disinfect them, something I hadn’t done before, even though I’d bought them in a yard sale, and what was I thinking not disinfecting these books before, which might carry small pox or the plague, for all I know?  Thank goodness Nanuq crapped all over them and rectified that little oversight.

Alas, not every book could be saved.  Some of the effluent came in contact with not just the covers, but with the edges of the actual pages; these I did not even attempt to rescue.  Fortunately, only three books had to go.  Grouse was one.  Alligators and woodchucks was another.  How sad that these noble creatures are now extinct.  At our house, anyway.

And so, I am once again reminded as to why having a tidy house is so much preferable to an untidy one.  Wouldn’t you rather clean dog poo off the rug than off a pile of children’s books?

Feeling pregnant

22 Mar

One thing I remember reading often on the pregnancy boards when I was pregnant with Jade was “every pregnancy is different”.  I had a great pregnancy with Jade with very little nausea, fatigue, or pain.  I knew I was lucky and wondered if I could be lucky enough to have it so easy again.  At 5½ weeks, we’re still in the very early stages of this game, but I’m certainly feeling the effects.  One mom recently said to me that the thing that surprised her most when she got pregnant how physical it was.  Although things really aren’t that bad, in comparison to my first pregnancy, this one is totally kicking my ass.

I came home from work around 5:30 on Thursday evening and shoved a frozen pizza into the oven before flopping down on the couch.  I woke up 45 minutes later and thought, “Oh no!  The pizza!”  Fortunately, I’d put it in at a fairly low heat, so it was just perfectly done.  I wolfed down my share and went to bed, where I stayed until 12:30.  By then I was so hungry and wide awake, I had to get up to eat.  I was back in bed by 1:30 and stayed there until Jade came into my room looking for a hug at 9:30.  I’d slept for 15 hours since the day before, yet I still needed a nap in the afternoon.

I’m also edgier with this pregnancy.  I thought I’d gotten over the worst of the nervousness when I posted about it last week, but I went into almost total panic mode a few days ago when I thought there might have been a hint of maybe pink or something on the toilet paper.  I was at work, so I went back to my desk and put my head in my hands and tried not to hyperventilate.  I don’t tend to be a very anxious person, so I didn’t really know how to calm myself down, and Michael was out of town for the day, so I couldn’t get hold of him.  Let’s just say that it wasn’t a very productive afternoon.

Another thing that’s been different with this pregnancy is the queasiness.  With Jade, I only ever felt nauseated when I got hungry, so it was easy enough to deal with; I just snacked all the time.  This time around, I haven’t been feeling very hungry, and sometimes I seem to get queasy after I eat.  I’m still trying to figure out if it’s random queasiness, or if it happens only after I eat something sweet.  (That would be tragic, wouldn’t it?  Eight months without sweets?!  How will I maintain my sweet tooth?)

Anyway, if it sounds like I’m complaining, I’m really not; just observing with interest how different this pregnancy has been from my other pregnancy experiences.  Marusia called today to see how I was doing and she said she’d repeat to me what one friend said to her in the early stages of her long-awaited pregnancy: “You’re still feeling lousy?  That’s GREAT!”

Word pedantry as punching bag

19 Mar

Okay, I know that was a couple of kinda heavy posts. Michael accused me yesterday of over-analyzing a nice moment in my life. I don’t deny it, but this is what happens when a girl doesn’t get enough girl talk time and her husband’s been working 24 hours on some project for the last three days and she’s had to do all the child-rearing and cooking and what-not herself. Not that I’m complaining, I’m just sayin’ is all.

Some people let their hair down by going to the gym and punching a heavy bag for a while. Me, I’m not that kind of physical (and I’m not letting my hair down, either, ’cause it took forever to do it this morning, and it’s still not cooperating) so I’m thinking of punching around some words. Whaddya say, wanna play?

On my old blog, I used to have an occasional rant about misused words, punctuation, and expressions. Strangely, I was usually motivated to write these posts when I had noticed a particular mistake multiple times in a short period of time. Why would there suddenly be a rash of people misusing “decimate” or “poring“? Do these things spread like viruses or something?

Lately, I’ve noticed a spate of “peaked” people. As in “you have peaked my curiosity”. Which I suppose could have some meaning to it. But the word you really want, my dears, is “piqued”. That’s from the French “piquer”, which means “to prick”. Yes, you have pricked my curiosity. Doesn’t that sound so much more elegant? It has a certain je ne sais quoi, non?

Also? Why have I seen several instances of “I’ll make due” in the last few weeks? That’s just bizarre. Do you work at a library and are you setting due dates for books? If so, you should be clearer. Otherwise, you should do like the rest of us and make do.

Ah, I feel better already.

While I’m at it, may I just add that I shudder when I hear someone say “nuke-ular”. I mean, that’s just ugly, and spreading that kind of ugly should be illegal. Say it with me, George W., it’s two syllables, not three, and it goes “NEW-clear”.

There’s another word I hate, although technically there’s nothing wrong with it. The word is “utilize”. Ugh. And double-ugh.

I’m afraid this one is Strunk and White’s fault because I read The Elements of Style many years ago, and the authors rant — yes, rant! — about “-izing” words. They didn’t like the word “moisturize”, for example. Why moisturize your skin, they argue, when you can simply moisten it? Well, I’m afraid I don’t agree with them, but they might be forgiven, since the original version of the book was written in 1918. However, ever since I read that bit in their book, I shudder when I see or hear the word “utilize”. Why not replace it with the much more elegant “use”?

I remember getting into an argument about this with a classmate in university when we were working on a group project. I wanted eliminate “utilize” from our paper but she insisted on putting it in. Her argument was that her mother was an English major, and she uses the word. Ha! I just can’t imagine arguing with someone over this these days. (Instead, I’d just reach for a paper bag. And lose my lunch into it.)

Well, that was refreshing! Care to add some fisticuffs of your own?

Golden Moments

18 Mar

Last night, as I was dragging the compost bin down to the end of the driveway for today’s collection, I paused and smiled at nothing in particular. Just because I was feeling so happy.  I love Monday nights; Mondays mean Big Band rehearsals and greasy food and laughter.  Yesterday’s rehearsal was particularly energizing because I managed to face down a number of challenging pieces I’d been worrying about.  I get a huge high out of singing anyway, but there’s no feeling like “getting” something you’ve been working at.  In moments like that, it doesn’t matter how many loads of laundry are left to be done.  Moments like that should be savoured.

It’s not every day I get to have that “all is right with the world” feeling, but I try to appreciate the small joys that do happen every day.  This may sound very capitalistic, not to mention fanciful — Hey, I am a business major. And a romantic. — but I’ve recently started thinking of those small moments of joy as, well, as gold.  And I’m interested in collecting as many as possible.

I don’t think I’m a naturally optimistic person; it’s more something I’ve learned and that I have to remind myself to do.  When my dad left the world of employment to work for himself, he had a lot of motivational training and sales training that emphasized the power of positive thinking.  It was a message he brought home that we all took to heart; I think a lot of my German friends still think of “Denk positiv!” (think positive) as my catch-phrase.

I don’t use the phrase much these days because out of the context of earnest high school philosophical discussions, it can sound preachy and trite.  Certainly, when I was told, “Just don’t worry” before my miscarriage, I was pretty annoyed at that friend for shutting down our conversation by dismissing my concerns.  “Just think positive” would have had the same effect in that context.

But if the pursuit of happiness is the ultimate goal, an optimistic outlook seems to me the best way to wring as much joy as possible out of each day.  And even if you don’t agree that happiness is the ultimate goal, who thinks they can do with less joy in their lives?

I’m not saying that happiness is the only important thing in life.  I’m also not saying I don’t get upset or depressed.  I’ve had some really rough patches that I’m sure would have resulted in going on anti-depressants had I thought to get “outside help”.  I know what it’s like to sink into a place where you don’t have the energy to do anything, even if you know it’ll do you good.  In those times, it’s pretty close to impossible to find those golden moments, and it might take someone else’s love and encouragement, someone else who can see the positives, to help you claw your way out of that pit.

But for “normal” stresses of “normal” life, it’s these golden moments that keep me afloat, that lift me out of the every day and give me a chance to breathe.  They don’t have to be spectacular: admiring the sparkles in the snow, a joke shared between friends, laughing at the prancing of an excited dog, noticing someone giving their all to a job.  If I pause to really appreciate those little moments, I get to have a moment of happiness that otherwise would have been squandered.  And wouldn’t that be a shame?

And then, for nights like last night where everything was momentarily right with the world?  Well, that’s just like hitting the jackpot.

Remembering to have faith

16 Mar

I like to go to church on Sunday. It does me good to get out of my own head and think about other people and our place in the world. I don’t go every week, but when I do, I am warmed by the little French community at the 10:10 a.m. mass, inspired by the boundless enthusiasm and compassion of Father Claude, energized by the dialogue, entertained by the children who actually like to be there. Everyday life can be a cynical place sometimes, so it’s revitalizing to go someplace that is really all about faith.

Many of the important aspects of our lives require faith. Before Michael and I got married, I wondered, how can you know that you’ll have to the strength to be true to your vows, to work through the hard times that will come? I concluded that it was impossible to know it, but I had faith that we’d give it everything we have.

Deciding to have children is a leap of faith, too. People asked me throughout my pregnancy with Jade, “Are you ready?” How the heck could I possibly be truly ready, knowing that my life would be changed in ways I could not yet imagine? I said to them, “Can you ever really be ready?” but thought, the decision is already made and all you can do is to have faith.

Then there was the miscarriage. Life felt so unfair, and I felt betrayed by my own body. Yet sharing the grief with others, especially those who had suffered their own losses, gave me faith in the possibility of healing. Stacie said it so beautifully earlier this week: “It is so reassuring to know there are others out there who have found the strength to get through the heartbreak.”

Last Sunday I didn’t go to church; Michael was out of town and it’s always a lot more difficult to fit church in when there are also dog-walking responsibilities. Instead, I spent the morning with my friend Anissa (we went dog-walking together) and had a grand time, but I felt rather strange the whole time. To make a long story short, I wondered enough that by the end of the day I decided to do a pregnancy test… which turned out to be positive.

I’ve felt strangely reticent since then. I’d like to be more excited, but am finding the joy is somewhat dampened by nervousness. We’re still in the very early weeks, barely halfway along the way to when my last pregnacy ended. Family were the first to find out, and a few good friends; in sharp contrast to my own reserve, almost all of them reacted with unbridled happiness. It’s been nice that others could feel such excitement when I couldn’t muster it for myself. (I did have one friend empathetically give me “cautious congratulations”, which made me laugh and allowed me the most carefree emotions I’d yet had.)

The truth is that I am at no higher risk for miscarriage than I’ve ever been; it’s experience, not facts, that makes me nervous. Though it can be hard to shed, anxiety is neither useful nor productive. Some might think me foolhardy for yet again sharing pregnancy news at such an early stage, but, hey, Easter is coming, and Easter is surely a time of faith and re-birth. Being at church this morning reminded me of the importance of having faith. Sharing this news with you is just a small thing I can do to cast off that yoke of fear, and remember to have faith.

Dinner conversation

12 Mar

Michael: So, what are your plans for tonight?

Me: Well, I thought I’d pack Jade’s lunch, get my family’s presents wrapped and ready to go to the post office, finish filing the tax returns, get that last bit of filing done, clean up the kitchen, and scrub out the bathrooms.

Michael: Oh, so we’re going to be busy tonight.

Me: Or! I could just veg out because I have absolutely no blickin’ energy right now.

One of those days…

12 Mar

4:30 Leave work, mentally making a list of groceries needed

4:37 Pull in at daycare centre and curse because forgot to stop at grocery store first

4:40 Arrive at door of daughter’s daycare room and witness temperature-taking in progress. Result: 100.9° F.

4:45 Buckle daughter, who is busily sucking away at a bottle, into carseat and contemplate grocery store options. Decide to go to the closest one, even though it has exorbitant prices.

4:49 Waiting to turn left into grocery store parking lot and remember why it sucks to do this after going to the daycare.

5:02 Carry daughter into store through the slushy parking lot. Attempt to stuff daughter into shopping cart, but the stupid flap that blocks the leg holes keeps flipping up. Remember other reason why it sucks to do this after daycare.

5:05 Daughter drops glass bottle, where it smashes into a thousand pieces on the floor. Gather up the biggest pieces of glass while thinking about the people who will say, “I told you so” about glass bottles. Grind teeth when 8-year-old boy gleefully says, “You have to pay for that!”

5:09 Arrive at the cash register where three cashiers are gabbing. One looks up and says she can serve me at the next counter. I wheel over there, only to have a woman rush in before self. Cashier does not bother to tell rude woman that the lady with the child and the exceedingly frazzled expression was there first.

5:15 Pay $33.00 for for 6 grocery items and curse because forgot to get bread, which was one of the most needed items.

5:20 Going ’round the bend (literally with the car, but figuratively, too) explain to daughter that her “baby” is at home. Do a blind one-handed search through daycare bag to find Cheerios to end the whining.

5:24 Arrive home. Thank goodness Michael’s back. He heads out to walk the dog (and daughter). Start cooking supper. But really, get on blog.

At least I live in Whitehorse. If I were still in Ottawa, this whole timeline would have taken a lot longer than an hour.

She soars

11 Mar

I got some sad news today from a friend who got pregnant right around the time I had my miscarriage. She helped me a lot through that tough time because I felt I could share all my sadness with her; it was also therapeutic to focus on her happy news and excitement. Unfortunately, today she found out that she lost her baby. She’s devastated and I can’t even begin to say how sad I am for her and for her whole family.

It reminded me about a post I’ve been mulling over for some time but haven’t written, the one with the song I wrote to help me process my miscarriage. I think this is it.

Back in January, I was using Google Images to find a picture of a GT snow racer and ended up on a blog post that was several years old. The blog had been started by a woman who was expecting her first child. After reading a few of the old entries, I clicked on the masthead to see the most recent post. The most recent post was a year old and linked to the writer’s new blog, but the one right before it told the story of her daughter Ava’s birth. It was a heartbreaking read because Ava died only 7 hours after she was born.

I clicked over to the new blog and — happily! — was greeted by a picture of a gorgeous one-year-old boy. Karla still blogs, and many of her posts are about her beautiful son Nate. That blog is now one of my regular reads.

In exploring the blog, I found a poem that Karla had written for Ava, which she entitled “She Soars“. I’d been wanting to create something to honour the little baby we never got to meet, but I wanted it to be hopeful rather than depressing. Karla’s poem was exactly what I needed to experience. I started out thinking I’d set Karla’s poem to music, but my laptop died and I couldn’t get back on the web, so instead I wrote some new words based on the idea she had given me.

Michael took this recording for a me a couple of weeks ago and I wasn’t entirely happy with the take, but the camera batteries were dying and now he’s out of town, so I guess I’ll live with it. The video quality is lousy because I compressed it so much (slow Internet connection from my oooold computer) but I kinda like the underwater effect, don’t you?

This song is dedicated to Karla, Ava, Stacie, Bobbi, Amanda, Heather, and all of our little angels.

(Here’s a direct link to the YouTube page in case the embedded file doesn’t work for you: http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=qIxhrAgeHyo)

She Soars

You can float, you can fly
To the heavens so high
Still you will never fly too far from me
You can sing, you can sigh
But you’ll never have to cry
As my love holds you up like a boat on the sea

You can laugh, you can love
As you watch from up above
You will never have this weight to drag you down
You are pure, you are free
You are all that you can be
And my music holds you up on a river of sound

Soar so high
You’re still mine
Tears for you are true
She soars so high
On wings divine
You’re in my heart
So fly, soar so high

You’re a hope, you’re a dream
You’re the one who’s never been
To a place where hurt and pain can bend you low
Like a spark, like a star
I love everything you are
So soar, my little angel, I’m letting you go

Soar so high
You’re still mine
Tears for you are true
Yes, she soars so high
I’m so glad that you can fly
You are in my heart
So fly, now soar so high

— January 9, 2008

Copyright © Fawn Fritzen, 2008
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