25 weeks, 3 days and weird times

It seems to be a strange time for me and it is hard to pinpoint what exactly is making me feel like this. I think part of it is just the season, how I feel about Christmas and the whole season of consumerism, how I feel about being far away from family at a time when family should be together (isn't that the reason? Although Kudos to the Thompsons and to T&A for making us part of their families this season) and I'm sure part of it is just the general inertia of this time of every year for me and anyone in the industry. I'm always just waiting for January so life can begin again, although who really knows how much work I'll even be able to get in the new year with this burgeoning belly.

In reality though, I think that it is more than that, it is also tied to my pregnancy and the stage where I find myself. While it is true that I look and feel more pregnant than ever, perhaps it is the middle hump or something - but I feel a certain disconnect. Perhaps it is that all the 'new' is gone, I have grown used to the wobbling gears in my belly, I feel confident that all is going well, that baby is growing and thriving and will continue doing so. Not to misunderstand, I am of course, thrilled to be having such a breezy pregnancy that is going so very well, but I have felt a descending sadness these last few days that I have been unable to really put my finger on nor have I managed to shake it.

Last night I awoke around 2 a.m. for my usual trip to the bathroom and when I got back in bed, I was wide awake and stayed so until 7 a.m., just thinking of everything, my mind swirling like a kaleidescope. For a long time I lay in the dark room with my hand holding the swell of the baby, and I just simply relished in their little gymnastics. I felt some of the biggest movements I'd yet experienced, what must be little feet pressing against what used to be my waist, whole round hard bits sweeping across my hand and rippling across my middle. It is still marvelous, I must admit, and I relished this quiet time, sending thoughts to my baby. But then, the unease set in.

Who knows what caused it (I never know), but I just felt this blanket of sadness settle over me. You spend so much time, especially during your first pregnancy simply marvelling at how wonderous and special and phenomenal everything is, and then suddenly, you get this sort of psychic email which says "Hah! It's nothing! There are 6 billion people on this planet, and each of them has been through this, you are not special!" - and I could cry right now thinking of that. Again, I say that I don't know what made this happen. Perhaps it was watching the super-8 videos of Ez's childhood; seeing his mother pregnant for him at Christmas of 1970, only 3 weeks further along than I am, his sister Cindy (now grown with a 4-and a 2-year old of her own) toddling about in fluffy yellow footsie pj's. There's a certain inevitable reckoning with the passage of time, watching video like that, especially when you wrap your head around all the years between then and now, where his parents are retired, a thousand miles away from their now grown son. You understand that time is a bandit that will steal away your whole life if you don't pay careful attention - and heck, even if you do.

Or maybe it was the news the other night from Tracy, who has not only 'been there and done that' and really is pretty disinterested in the process with which I am generally entranced, being busy with the life of a young mother, who announced on Christmas (what a present!) that she's doing it again. I watched her with her daughter at dinner, this girl I have known now for many years, and have been next to through coming together with Adrian, getting pregnant and becoming a mother - the whole escapade - I watched her just being a parent; putting on diapers and socks, feeding, dressing, caring - all these things that somehow came to be so everyday and I remember thinking not only how it just 'was', but how she will just simply be repeating the process over again - just as simple as that. Now don't misunderstand, I don't mean to simplify the process, but what I mean is more something about how simple it all really is. You can do it, and then you can do it again - and again and again if you want to. It seems like that too, illuminates how really 'not-special' it all is. And I think it made me feel profoundly sad. Like how sometimes I will see parents in the mall or on the street with older children and they'll be yelling at them, or visibly bored with whatever is going on, talking on their cell phones or reading or some other distracting diversion and I feel like I am watching the gradual decline of a romance and I wonder - when does it happen? How do you go from being entralled my every little spin and kick, every single moment of your new baby's life to "Michael! If you ask me one more time I am going to lock you in your bedroom for two weeks!"? Is there some kind of limited supply of special?

I feel so sad when I think of it that even now, tears are brimming in my eyes and I feel once again, profoundly sad about it, this illumination of how quickly elation can fade and just become life. I don't want it to end, I don't want it not to be special and it breaks my heart to think of it. I want always to feel the core of what this has meant to me from the beginning, that no matter about 6 billion people - this is MY baby, OUR baby, it is our time of special. This will always be my first time and even though someday my child will be grown and independent and perhaps far away from me, I was there at the beginning, I felt the first groanings of its life expanding into truth and I felt the tug of its first forays into humanity and for me, it will always be special. It is my turn, it is our turn, it is our little universe expanding.

I only have three small months more to hold fast to this, I clasp it tight to my heart.

25 weeks, 3 days and weird times

It seems to be a strange time for me and it is hard to pinpoint what exactly is making me feel like this. I think part of it is just the season, how I feel about Christmas and the whole season of consumerism, how I feel about being far away from family at a time when family should be together (isn't that the reason? Although Kudos to the Thompsons and to T&A for making us part of their families this season) and I'm sure part of it is just the general inertia of this time of every year for me and anyone in the industry. I'm always just waiting for January so life can begin again, although who really knows how much work I'll even be able to get in the new year with this burgeoning belly.

In reality though, I think that it is more than that, it is also tied to my pregnancy and the stage where I find myself. While it is true that I look and feel more pregnant than ever, perhaps it is the middle hump or something - but I feel a certain disconnect. Perhaps it is that all the 'new' is gone, I have grown used to the wobbling gears in my belly, I feel confident that all is going well, that baby is growing and thriving and will continue doing so. Not to misunderstand, I am of course, thrilled to be having such a breezy pregnancy that is going so very well, but I have felt a descending sadness these last few days that I have been unable to really put my finger on nor have I managed to shake it.

Last night I awoke around 2 a.m. for my usual trip to the bathroom and when I got back in bed, I was wide awake and stayed so until 7 a.m., just thinking of everything, my mind swirling like a kaleidescope. For a long time I lay in the dark room with my hand holding the swell of the baby, and I just simply relished in their little gymnastics. I felt some of the biggest movements I'd yet experienced, what must be little feet pressing against what used to be my waist, whole round hard bits sweeping across my hand and rippling across my middle. It is still marvelous, I must admit, and I relished this quiet time, sending thoughts to my baby. But then, the unease set in.

Who knows what caused it (I never know), but I just felt this blanket of sadness settle over me. You spend so much time, especially during your first pregnancy simply marvelling at how wonderous and special and phenomenal everything is, and then suddenly, you get this sort of psychic email which says "Hah! It's nothing! There are 6 billion people on this planet, and each of them has been through this, you are not special!" - and I could cry right now thinking of that. Again, I say that I don't know what made this happen. Perhaps it was watching the super-8 videos of Ez's childhood; seeing his mother pregnant for him at Christmas of 1970, only 3 weeks further along than I am, his sister Cindy (now grown with a 4-and a 2-year old of her own) toddling about in fluffy yellow footsie pj's. There's a certain inevitable reckoning with the passage of time, watching video like that, especially when you wrap your head around all the years between then and now, where his parents are retired, a thousand miles away from their now grown son. You understand that time is a bandit that will steal away your whole life if you don't pay careful attention - and heck, even if you do.

Or maybe it was the news the other night from Tracy, who has not only 'been there and done that' and really is pretty disinterested in the process with which I am generally entranced, being busy with the life of a young mother, who announced on Christmas (what a present!) that she's doing it again. I watched her with her daughter at dinner, this girl I have known now for many years, and have been next to through coming together with Adrian, getting pregnant and becoming a mother - the whole escapade - I watched her just being a parent; putting on diapers and socks, feeding, dressing, caring - all these things that somehow came to be so everyday and I remember thinking not only how it just 'was', but how she will just simply be repeating the process over again - just as simple as that. Now don't misunderstand, I don't mean to simplify the process, but what I mean is more something about how simple it all really is. You can do it, and then you can do it again - and again and again if you want to. It seems like that too, illuminates how really 'not-special' it all is. And I think it made me feel profoundly sad. Like how sometimes I will see parents in the mall or on the street with older children and they'll be yelling at them, or visibly bored with whatever is going on, talking on their cell phones or reading or some other distracting diversion and I feel like I am watching the gradual decline of a romance and I wonder - when does it happen? How do you go from being entralled my every little spin and kick, every single moment of your new baby's life to "Michael! If you ask me one more time I am going to lock you in your bedroom for two weeks!"? Is there some kind of limited supply of special?

I feel so sad when I think of it that even now, tears are brimming in my eyes and I feel once again, profoundly sad about it, this illumination of how quickly elation can fade and just become life. I don't want it to end, I don't want it not to be special and it breaks my heart to think of it. I want always to feel the core of what this has meant to me from the beginning, that no matter about 6 billion people - this is MY baby, OUR baby, it is our time of special. This will always be my first time and even though someday my child will be grown and independent and perhaps far away from me, I was there at the beginning, I felt the first groanings of its life expanding into truth and I felt the tug of its first forays into humanity and for me, it will always be special. It is my turn, it is our turn, it is our little universe expanding.

I only have three small months more to hold fast to this, I clasp it tight to my heart.

6 months have flown by!

Wow!

It seems amazing to me to be six months pregnant. I keep saying it over and over and it makes me giggle like a little girl trying out her married name to some famous rock star or prince. It's astonishing to me that we've come this far, this well and I am so very thankful.

Baby has been growing and moving - I'm starting to experience to beginnings of 'run out of room' syndrome - something I expect will get considerably worse. I still hope not to have a giant baby, but I do wonder where on earth I will put all the new pounds I am expected to gain over the next few months. Sometimes I feel full to bursting as it is! I find particularly if I eat anything approaching a regularly sized meal, I feel as though I might explode - clearly I have graduated to the 'small meals only' section of pregnancy. But as has been the story, no real complaints. I'm still doing yoga and hope to join yogapod's prenatal classes in the New Year and I feel good!

We didn't get the house - we were embarrassingly outbid by someone who materialized from thin air after our initial bid. No one wanted this house for six months and then suddenly, poof!, rich people show up and steal it out from under us. We felt like we didn't even get to play - they just crushed us. But alas, there were many problems and issues to be considered, especially with a new baby (they wanted us to remove all conditions, including inspection - sure! lead paint? no problem!) so we were not willing to do that, needless to say.

So instead, we went to an auction and bought ourselves the most beautiful Burmese Mahogany floor - so we're renovating the place instead. Not quite a big new house (well, old house) but still - pretty good!

Baby's True Size

Had our pre-natal appointment this morning with the midwife - always a nice experience. I had to laugh, when I expressed concern that in going to the hospital they might take over and make me do it more 'their' way versus the midwifery way I am planning and Irene, this fiery little Scot with 30 years experience as a midwife looked me straight in the eye and said "Oh, you don't know me very well do you? No one tells me what to do in that hospital" - I loved it! That's the kind of advocate I want for me and for my baby. I'm so pleased to have chosen midwifery care and I feel so well informed and as prepared as I can be for such a monumental experience.

Baby continues to be spot on in everything, all measurements are good, including my size, which, although feels big to me in many ways, is really still quite small. But to my surprise, baby is quite big! Irene had a well-worn chart that she pulled from her bag which shows baby's true size in each of the months and when I saw the picture of 5 months I could not believe its size! So big! I was even more amazed by the 9th month, but I'm not thinking too much about that one yet...
So, I held the chart to my belly and took pictures so that everyone (including ez) who could not be here could see how big baby really is. All is well, moving around and all, and Irene agreed that this last while was likely a growth spurt as I have been quite tired and the baby pretty quiet. It didn't like having its heartbeat taken this morning and kept moving away from the little doppler, but the 10 seconds she got sounded good and strong and she decided to leave well enough alone. I finally look pregnant, if only a little and I love the swell of this belly and every little hello from baby. And finally, I feel like this is New Year's we can celebrate since 2007 will be ther year of our baby. We are thrilled.

Mommy's Birthday - 23 weeks

Thought I might update on time this week, even though I only did so three days ago!

Last night was my birthday and Ez went above and beyond to throw a lovely dinner party for me. We had beef tenderloin medallions, seared scallops with dill oil, porcini mushroom ravioli with mushroom cream sauce and steamed crab legs with redolent garlic or dill butter and a beautiful salad. For appys we had a delicious fondue with fresh veggies and warm baguette and of course, we had a fab ice cream cake for dessert!! It was terrifically yummy and even though I couldn't drink I truly enjoyed my gingerale with cranberry studded with sweet magenta pomegranate seeds - very festive. I find if you serve anything in fat, long-stemmed wine glasses it tastes better! He also splurged and bought me a fancy b*tch new phone with an mp3 player and 3.2 mpxl camera in it - very advanced, something I would never have bought myself. But he thought it would be easier with the baby to have everything in one device and that way I will always have a camera with me ti take pictures of the bambino while daddy is at work ;)

Baby has been pretty quiet lately, I think it must be a growing phase. Still some movement here and there but not as much as last week. I feel like I have grown quite a bit, although I haven't quite figured out where, as my measurements continue to be the same. I feel thick and stiff, but yoga is helping and I still can't complain - although I do wonder how I will ever move as it gets bigger! My belly button is a creature unto itself lately, especially since I had to break down and take out my belly ring the other day. It has flattened out substantially and even resembles an 'outtie' - as much as my hollowed out strange bellybutton can. I'm chugging away on my crochet baby blanket - though I have completely changed the colour scheme and design ( of course) and it little resembles the blanket I started out making. I also got a beautiful blanket from my mom for the baby, bright and colourful and a patchwork of soft textured fabrics that baby is sure to love. Between that one, mine and the one nanabanana made me (a year ago, impatiently forward looking) I should be good on the baby blanket front.

Now all we need is a stroller.

Oh yeah. And a house.

C'mon, dream home!

22 weeks (and 4 days...mommy's workin')

Okay, I'm a little behind, it's been pretty busy chez nous! I've been working for the last two weeks on Battlestar Gallactica, which was surprisingly fun, despite involving a seemingly endless amount of days sittings in the gallery of the courtroom - they're the worst kind of scenes because they require so much coverage and are generally incredibly boring. However, I was really thrilled to get a gig this close to x-mas when things tend to get so slow, and a great paying one at that! And as always, I made a lot from a little with this character and heard repeated invitations (including from the producer) that she'll be returning when they do, which would wonderfully coincide with the time right after baby comes and we'll need the money....especially if we get this house!

Yes, despite not being in the market for a house, we had one of those moments of serendipity when we took a turn on a street that we'd never been onto and stumbled upon a house from the 1950's that we thought could work for us. It's one of those places that you'd have to mother - and what I mean by that is the notion that it's so ugly only a mother could love it. BUT, it has good bones, and dispite some serious initial work that must be done, it is otherwise a solid house that we could see ourselves (and our baby!) in. We see what we could make out of it, and so we have rolled the dice and made an offer of what we think is fair for it, as it is considerably overpriced and has been since it went on the market in June. We know our cap and we know we could stay in this beautiful apartment for another year if we have to, so we feel in a good position. It's been stressful, exciting and interesting to go through this process, and we have had to face many fears, not least of which is my very considerable fear of money issues. As we all know, buying any home in Vancouver is a very daunting prospect and this is a house in North Van, so you can just imagine. It's hard to believe the we could be thinking that half a million dollars (what?!) is a good deal. So here we are, waiting to exhale. We put the offer in yesterday and the owner had until 1 p.m. today to decide what she thinks of our offer. We think it is fair considering the circumstances of the house and the repairs and we hope that she will think so too. Heck - who else would want a crazy house like this besides us???

Otherwise, baby things are all good and I continue to have an easy and uneventful pregnancy for which I am eternally grateful. The worst complaint I have is that now in the mornings when I awake I am temporarily paralyzed by pain and stiffness in my mid back that catches my breathe. I have found that yoga helps to alleviate it and I guess that is just my body adjusting to the growing weight of my belly - although you can continue to see that it is not exactly huge! I feel like I've grown a lot but the numbers seem to still be the same. But the baby's kicks and movements are stronger and my belly feels larger and more swayed. Pants are starting to be a real issue for me, and it was a small form of torture wearing Mexx dresspants for days on end on set. I swear they got tighter since the first fitting and after the first few days I resorted to wearing my yoga pants on set until they were turned around my way. I worked diligently on my baby blanket that will take me approximately 6 years to complete and is probably considerably above my skill level, but it kept me busy during the long, dull hours of courtroom shooting and the bright colours I chose (me? bright?) buoyed me. Baby seemed to like being on set, it moved around like crazy, probably all the noise and commotion. I would pull my shirt across my belly and we would watch "The Baby Show" as the little jerky movements fluttered across my stomach. Hopefully many more set days to come before baby comes, and hopefully it helps us to pay for this house....cause we'll get it and it'll be great, right? Hmmmmm....

A Snow Day for Yukon (aka 21 weeks)

It is a world of white in Vancouver right now, the snow thick like sugary icing all around. Last night, watching the shadows play across the forest outside our window we saw a flash and then everything went dark as though someone had pulled a universal plug. Everything around us was plunged into darkness and silence - and it was beautiful. The hallways were dark and mysterious, and our apartment glowed with the force of every candle we could find. With a little coaxing, I got Ez on board for a walk in the woods, so we suited up, blew out the candles and ventured out, joining a few handfuls of other hardy souls who decided to use this quiet time to full advantage.

The forest behind us was backlit in a faintly glowing gray that came right out of nature's palette - no artificial lights from Mount Seymour tonight! We trudged our way up through the path that bisects the forest heading north to Mount Seymour and veered off onto the newly revamped Old Goat Trail which snakes its way through the woods towards Old Dollarton. There was not a single footstep along the path and I loved the smooth expanse of white that spread out before us as we bent beneath bows of trees heavy with the day's snow. I loved the sound of our breathing in the dense quiet of the night, the crunch of our feet in the crisp snow as we made our way through this newly foreign landscape. I loved the feeling of Ez's hand in mine and the sound of our laughter being absorbed by the cottony woods as I tried to bend my ever-tightening belly under the bowed branches and snow capped boughs that gracefully crossed our path like sentries at a wondrous gate.

It was a gift, I think, to have had this quiet, beautiful time. Even though these woods are our own, even though I walk them many times a week, tonight they seemed like a new place to be discovered. Our cheeks were glowing in the night, red from the cold that buffed over them as we walked and talked, shared our thoughts about all that awaits us as parents. We talked about how fun it would be as a family to wrap the kids up in all their layers and take them out into this mysterious night, pretending we were deep in the woods of the Yukon, telling stories along the way. These are the nights you remember, not another night in front of the mesmerizing glow of the television.

After an hour of trekking through this quiet paradise, we clambered back through the forest path toward the darkened facade of our building, only a few candlelit eyes peeking out into the darkness. We saw only a handful of people out enjoying the adventure, and I lamented to see so many people still inside, huddled over laptops, playing solitaire and watching movies. "It's gorgeous out here!" I wanted to shout at them, "Come live!" But then again, more quiet night for us.

Ez led us back up the darkened stairwell (so much for emergency lighting) and back into our still warm home, where we re-lit all the candles and settled in. I had made a big pot of French onion soup earlier in the day and I ladled it in heaping, slithery spoonfuls into one of our fondue pots to reheat it. We dug up every candle we had and sat down, talking about things from our childhoods that we've never spoken about; fears that we had of darkened basements, the best games we'd loved as children, the peculiar personalities of the homes in which we'd grown up. We laughed and shared and were in the midst of concocting a windscreen to increase the candle power of the fondue pot when it happened. A jarring whir, bells and whistles, and all the power came back on - fans whirring, the whine of the tv powering up, lights blaring on and disrupting our beautiful peace. Ah, but instead of being disappointed, we simply went around and turned them off, one by one, until we found ourselves again in our blissful, gothic haven. We stared at my belly in the light of a flurry of red candles and watched each tiny ripple and bump of our baby. I can tell you, it was a million times better than any night in front of the tube. Maybe the power will go out again next Sunday? Or better still, maybe we could just choose to pretend it has...

Halfway there

20 weeks and counting - we're halfway to the beginning of a whole new life for us, and certainly a new life for the Yukon baby. Unless of course, you subscribe to the notion that this is a soul reincarnated to this plain which has chosen us (us?) for its parents and is leading who knows which version of its journey. I like it, it's kind of romantic, although lately I might wonder what kind of soul would pick me for its mother. Okay, that's not quite fair...it's just that things have not felt as good as I would like them to, and in an effort to not play Hollywood and pretend that everything is butterflies and roses, I simply admit to being worried. I'm worried about all the changes that will happen in our lives, I worry about money and where we will live and who will eventually babysit and will the baby sleep and what about never seeing the grandparents and is its room big enough and will we have money for school and will I ever have a career again and have we made the right choices and on and on and on. I know there is more to worry about, I know this is nothing and that worries me even more.

Now, breathe, stretch, breathe deeply, sigh. Smile.

Things have been going well. Ez has gotten still more days as the badass Otis on Traveler (see picture - he's in FBI jail) and so that has made him happy and helped him feel connected and part of the world. As for me,I have gained only a little weight and few inches - although a full inch in the last two days! The baby moves well, and I have not only felt it with my hands (and Ez once too!) but on Sunday I saw the bump out the side with my own two eyes, which made me unexpectedly burst into tears, it was so amazing and made the baby seem all the more real. I have felt pretty good, not too unreasonably tired, not sick, no big aversions. I feel really lucky about all this. I'm also really thrilled that our timing has worked such that we have received (or will) a plethora of baby things that we would really need. Deb and Glenn and Brianna have offered us a beautiful crib, Kate her playpen, baby monitor and change table. Tracy and Adrian have a swing, newborn carseat, jolly jumper and all the slings I can handle. I found a great red velvet rocking chair on Craigslist for a mere $35 which should fit well with everything and it small enough not to overwhelm even our tiny baby's room. (I know they don't need much space, but still I worry it's too small - we'll see...) We're putting in the floors next week with help from JJ and his brother-in-law Paul and then we will be better able to see how the whole thing comes together. After my 4.5 hours of middle-of-the-night insomnia, I dreamt about the floors, their edges clicking together, the smell of new wood(type product) in the air. We'll paint the room then too, change the lighting (you know me, all about the ambiance) and then we're getting ready for baby!

Well, as ready as we'll ever be I guess.

Or maybe it's just me

Okay, so this week we seem to have regressed - I somehow look less pregnant than I did last week! It is still amazing to me - I feel like the skinniest 19-weeks (near five-months!) pregnant person ever - yet I feel chubby and stout nonetheless. My measurements continue to hover around the same numbers - my waist is now at 31.5 inches and the 'largest' part of my belly tops out at a whopping 33 inches. Mind you, I'm not complaining, as I have always feared that I'd blow up like a balloon during pregnancy, but it would be nice to look pregnant instead of just...thick. Otherwise, all is well, and I feel great. And I also feel the baby - with my hand! It came as a surprise to me when it first happened, but I definitely felt it, although it does not always coincide with the jabs I am feeling from the inside. The wonderful thing is that Ez was, after a few 35-second bouts of petulant frustration, able to feel it too, a good one at that. You could hardly wipe the smile off of his face.

As for me, I have been exercising quite diligently (5x this week!) but nothing strenuous, really. Yoga, lots of walking and some urban hiking. I'm still doing my squats and my kegels and just generally readying myself. I was thinking about many things yesterday on my hike through the forest - I've been hiking despite Vancouver's abysmal weather of late. A beautiful, dry fall, with the most gorgeous palette of ochre and umber against the evergreen backdrop of the North Shore mountains has turned to a dismal, grey deluge for November with record rains. It would be so easy to stay inside and indulge my only real craving: potato chips. But, fear not! I am a hardy outdoor girl and each day I suit up in my waterproof pants and jacket and I hike wherever I can, enjoying the quiet peace of the beautiful forest in which I live, enjoying the freedom of these last few months, breathing in the crisp, bright air. So, as I said, I got to thinking - one would train for any event of the physical - for sports, for running races, for kayaking - but so few people think of training for the ordeal of birth. So that is what I am doing. As Ez has said, it will be an endurance event, so I am working on walking for 1 hour at a time, moving up (I hope) towards a 2-hour weekly walk in the last trimester. I am training my body, my muscles and my mind for an arduous physical task - and I feel like it is the only thing that I can really do to prepare for such a dynamic and unpredictable experience. I will prepare myself as I would for any other physical task I take on - a new river run, a new mountain hike, a race (yeah, like I do those anymore!) - and then I'll see what happens on the day, just like I would then. I feel confident and strong about my abilities to give birth. I believe strongly in the capacity of both my body and my mind to rise to the occasion and I feel like I don't have to be filled with fear and apprehension, despite my desire to have a natural, intervention free birth. I am strong! I am woman! I am somewhat invincible!

At least that's my story so far.

Is it just me or am I feeling...plump?

18 weeks today!

Feeling full, like a balloon in a heated room. Not the giant, stuffed feeling that I know will come, but the first inklings of that. It's quite strange for me, as a woman, to feel like I have a lazy beer belly. I feel like it should be blubbery and wan, but it is remarkably taught and tight. And now, when I lay on my back, I can poke around and feel the change between the softness of my upper belly and the distinct change when I feel the round, tight wad that is my uterus. It's a wonderful change to experience and it is starting to feel more and more 'real' (for lack of a better word) than ever before. I have begun to feel pregnant and to feel less like an imposter in prenatal yoga or in maternity stores. Yes, I have begun to go into them, but they leave me bewildered and overwhelmed, so I have yet to make a purchase. I am trying to be of the school that says I need very little; so far it is holding up well. Being in a very small apartment (about to be a "2" bedroom instead of a 1+den!) also helps maintain an aura of austerity. We've turned the place upside down, casting off excess wherever we could, and considering how small is our space, it was a lot more than one might expect. Paring down is a wonderful experience - I can't imagine how much one might collect in an actual house. I don't miss anything though, and I relish in every small gain of space and organization. All practice for life on the high seas, a plan we continue to cling to. Ez will captain our proud boat, I will take pictures of our travels, write a travel food book and home-school our fabulously worldly and incredibly interesting children. So this is just 'Life in a Small Space: Part 1'.

It has also been increasingly wonderful to become part of the club of motherhood and to see how everyone's experience is unique and individual. I love to talk with other women and learn what they know - and it is as valuable to me to speak with the women of my book club, whose children are mostly grown, as it is to talk to those who've just had babies within the last year or two. I feel a connection to all these women by this deeply spiritual and nourishing experience, as well as a connection to all the women who have come before me. It is an incredible thing to do, and I truly feel priviledged to be a part.

We continue to read our books, the latest being 'The New Active Birth' (which honestly, blew my mind) and the 'Birth Partner' for Ez (yes, he is actually reading it, although with a bit of a 'deer in headlights' sensibility). I have ordered 'Spiritual Midwifery' and 'Birthing from Within' and it all goes quite well with all my hippie notions about childbirth. We have begun to bandy about names, although we like so few it has been a pretty laclkuster game thus far. We have our next prenatal appointment on Wednesday and I long to hear that tiny, racing heart again - although I have felt this one's presence quite soundly lately - sometimes with an alarmed 'yow!' at its ferocity. Again, wait till what comes later, I have heard, but this is my now, this is our week 18, and we will soak up every little piece.

17.4 pix

Moving along at 4 months+

17 weeks and 4 days! Amazing! Although, by looking at the pictures one might think that I've just been using the same ones over and over again. Four and a half months pregnant and still looking pretty trim, if I do say so myself! My midwife has assured me that it is not unusual that I have not gained any weight but for a few pounds - that I shouldn't expect that to happen til closer to six months. I'm actually just fine with that, as I was always worried that I'd be one of those women who would blow up like a salted ham once I got pregnant, so I am relieved and happy that things have been going so well. I have been feeling the tiny flutters for weeks and on Monday night, driving home from class I felt the first sharp wallop of my pregnancy. It felt like the baby elbowed me in the belly as if to say 'Hey! Get me some food!' It was an astonishing feeling. The clothes are starting to not fit quite as well and the selections from the closet continue to dwindle as I search for stretchy and comfy. I haven't had the heart to get into the maternity purchasing yet - it feels a little ridiculous even standing in the store. Much as in prenatal yoga, where I look like an imposter, I feel like people must be wondering about this girl standing goggle-eyed in front of the nursing/maternity bra section, slack-jawed and shaking. I don't even know where to begin, the whole notion of buying all these things seems overwhelming. I keep hearing the words of my friend Tracy's mom, telling her that had they needed everything that people tell us we need now, the kids might have died - for they had very little of the extras. I'm so far doing well at resisting the temptation to buy heated baby-wipe kits or glossy mothering magazines that make you feel like a deficient mother before you've even had your child. So far I'm doing well living in the now and being thankful for such an uneventful and easy pregnancy and preparing myself for the arduous journey of giving birth (breathe, squat, kegel, breathe, squat, kegel). In the store yesterday I turned from a display of a million things I likely don't need and right behind me a woman was taking a tiny baby from a sling - only a week old - and I nearly burst right into tears there, just thinking of how wonderful it will be to hold our child, to see our tiny little hands and feet and live in the amazement of watching them live.

I haven't been completely zen, however - I'm sure you are shocked to hear. When I express fears Ez says 'Why let the devil hear you say that?' - but I have expressed concerns over the testing - the first round of which I did yesterday in the Triple Screen test. I've been meditating for weeks about the test, about just wanting it to tell the truth (there is a high incidence of false positives) while telling the baby 'You are gonna be just fine'. I've done my affirmations, and visualized hearing them say the our test came out just fine, but if I were honest (and let's face it, I can be brutally so) I am still frightened. I have come to love this little baby more and more with each passing day and it has been such a dilemma already to think of the what-if's. I don't want to hear anything but what I have been meditating on, I don't want to not have this baby for any reason. We dream of this child every day; have dreamed of their birth, their first days, how they will smell and how they will feel in my arms and at my breast. And so, what I have really seen is that now matter what happens, I am already a mother, because I have learned to worry about my child. Needlessly, I'm sure, for my child will be perfect and healthy and will change the world as we know it. But still, you know, a mother worries.

16 weeks and counting!

Well, here we are, 4 months and 2 days. It seems crazy to think we are that far along when those first weeks seemed to have taken forever. When we would look at the pictures of 6, 8 even 10 week fetuses and see how vulnerable and bizarre they were. Now when we look at pictures we see little faces, tiny fingers which can flex and grasp, knees, feet...we could even see genitals -IF we were so inclined (so far we're still leaning towards 'no'). Pregnancy has already been such an amazing journey and I feel so fortunate to be experiencing it for myself. I am diligently trying to appreciate every day of it, the wonder of it all, as every day brings something new.

Lately it's been bringing more tired, less room! I notice then when I bend over to get something, I have the inevitable 'oomph' that accompanies the motion, and my belly no longer cracks along the middle to accomodate the bend. I've gained 5 inches around my very middle and I can feel the general thickening of my torso, although I still look practically normal in my clothes - albeit they fit a bit tighter! I seem to have regained my appetite and am craving very warming, homey foods like roast beef and gravy, indian food, breads and butters. Still my sweet tooth remains in hibernation (not a bad thing) and the aversions of the early months seem to have abated, to my great relief. I'm not used to being a fussy eater!

I continue to be quite tired, and I feel like I should have moved on from that. I have trouble giving myself the permission to live in the tired, I feel like I should be up and out there and like my old self, but I have been persistently exhausted, making that somewhat more difficult. Right now my heart is racing a bit, and if I get up too fast, I feel dizzy and light. So I'm trying to take it easy, take my time, enjoy the last months and days of the freedom I have to do that. I'm doing a fair amount of pre-natal yoga, working my way up gradually to more. I feel like it is the best preparation for birth possible; breathing through discomfort, pushing through pain, stretching, making room, relaxing, meditating. I feel myself opening up to all the possibilities for my future as a woman, a mother, for us as a family...

A family. Our very own family. What a wonderful gift.

3 and a Half Months

It seems almost hard to believe that we are sitting at 3 and a 1/2 months, particularly if you look at me - you'd scarcely know! Other than a few extra inches around my waist - I was 26" beforehand, was 27" at 9 weeks and am now 29" at 15 weeks - you'd scarcely know.

I actually find this a bit challenging at this point. I often feel guilty for indulging in rest times, particularly after the inertia of the first three months - I think 'Shouldn't I be making up for all that time when I couldn't do anything?!'. Thankfully Ez is quick to remind me that a) I'M PREGNANT, and that while I may not look it, there are so many important things going on inside that I have to remember that, and b) I have a lifestyle that affords me time if I need it, and instead of feeling guilty about it, I should take advantage and be thankful for that. It's difficult for me, however, as I tend to feel that I'm not doing enough. This has particularly magnified itself for me since so many things changed in my career after 'Jake' ended and I sort of lost the plan after a while. I got tired of trying to do 50,000 extra things that felt like they'd never paid off and I am only now getting the thoughts in my head again about returning to my former work ethic - although my baby's growth seeks to somewhat impede that initiative!

I have certainly had a lot of time to contemplate how my life will change after the baby comes and how my time management will be so much different. It seems from watching friends that there is so little time left for you I wonder how I will ever make it happen - and yet, I know that you just do; that's the beauty of being a parent, the wonder of it all is how you manage to completely alter your entire life around something you never had before and it somehow seems like it was always there. I look forward to the ways in which being a mother will change me, and I hope, make me a better, more thoughtful person. It's amazing to me how much it changes you, and it is also astonishing how different it is for everyone.

Everytime I feel a tiny flutter of movement, I am astounded by the magic of what I am doing, being and creating. It feels like a miracle that you should shout from the rafters - and yet, it seems everyone has already done it and it is equally amazing how quickly the sheen seems to wear off. In talking to a friend that other day about it, I really saw how far beyond the 'magic' of pregnancy she was. She seemed to have little patience for my wonder for she is in the throes of finding daycare, finding time, finding her way as a woman again - and yet, I remember clearly how amazing it all was for her when she was pregnant - particularly since I had not yet experienced it and was so eager to soak up all the things I longed to feel. It seems like a small sadness that comes, eventually, the way it always does with wondrous experiences, the way the honeymoon wears off. I know that it exists out there, in the future, but I still am living in the romance and wonder of it all, for as long as I can. If I can set one goal for myself as a mother, it will be to try my best through all the sleepless nights and restless days to really absorb the fact that those moments of wonder and awe and bliss will be so fleeting, and that real life, as it is wont to do, will come calling again soon. It is a particular challenge of life, I think, not just pregnancy and motherhood. Already I find myself growing annoyed with the frequent late-night trips to the loo, with feeling depleted, unmotivated. I can see ahead to the time when I will desperately want my body back - and still, I am managing to find moments when I say to myself 'Look how fast it went already! It will be over so soon - breathe this! absorb this! live this!' But, as with all lessons in life, it is hard won, and I must challenge myself with it daily.

14 weeks pictures

4 inches and nothing to show for it!

Another small step for Keegan and Ez, one giant step for baby. Finally, we made it to the second trimester! A funny, seeminly elusive goal that sometimes felt like it was taking double the time to get to, but here we are, just another day. We have looked forward to this time and you just feel like you can breathe a little easier. Many people wait until now to tell loved ones and friends, but as you know, we were not among the waiters!! Ez was practically standing on the street corner with a sign, that's how many people he told. I, on the other hand have been more reticent, in particular within the industry, for fear they won't bring me in for normal roles right now, even though, as evidenced by the photos, I'm really not showing! In fact, I'm showing less than I was at 12 weeks. If one didn't know the good news, you'd never know from looking, which for now, suits me just fine as I need to work as long as possible since I do not qualify for mat-leave (the joys of being 'self-employed' and having a union that does nothing to help).

I'm feeling a lot better, although as soon as I say I don't need naps anymore, I crash like a brick for two hours, face down on the couch. So maybe that claim is a bit pre-emptive. I am finally eating again, weeks 9-13 were a bit sqeamish on the food side of things, but I am starting to get my appetite back again, especially at night.

And--
You can call me crazy, but I swear I felt the flutters of the baby's movement. They do say trim women can feel it this early, although for most it's another few weeks, but I have now twice felt the same tiny ripple down near the bottom of my belly, and I feel like I just know it to be different than all the other feelings, like a sign in a language that I didn't know I knew - I can read it as our baby. It's brief, like a kiss on the cheek, but it's there and I'm filing it away into this wonderful box into which I am storing all these wonderful moments - finding out, telling Ez, hearing the heartbeat, the first tiny flutters.

It's Thanksgiving weekend for us, there is no doubt. And we have much to be thankful for.

The most beautiful sound in the world...so far

Yesterday was our first midwifery appointment, something we'd been anxiously awaiting. Jill and Elika, her midwifery student came to our home, which is a wonderful benefit of havng a midwife and we had our first little check-up. All is well, according to them, the uterus is where it should be and I'm starting to feel less exhausted and the nausea of weeks 9-12 seems to have largely passed. It wasn't even really that bad, I feel enormously fortunate about that!

So we talked and chatted, asked questions, filled out forms - and then the moment of truth. A tiny machine, called a Doppler, with a little mini ultrasound paddle comes out. Elika searches for a few moments (not as long as it felt, I'm sure) and after a few powerful whooshes, the sound of my own blood rushing through my veins, she found it - a little, rapid pulse of our baby's tiny little heart! It was like time stood still for me as this little staccato beat drummed out and it was all I could hear on earth - the sound of our child becoming real. It was one of the most amazing things I've ever heard in my life and I don't think I will ever forget that moment. Beat on little heart, we can't wait to hear more!

WEEK 12 - 3 months!

So, in grand (okay, maybe not so grand) opposition to the 'limbo' period about which I spoke last time, today we suddenly discovered our first real visible signs, things that felt more tangible. And as you so often hear from women (with more to come, I know) it seems like I just popped in the last day or two. Not a huge pop, but our first 'real' pop - and it feels good! I can honestly say that I never imagined that Ez talking about me having 'love handles' would feel quite so thrilling.

He's actually the one who really noticed today. We were walking along the seawall at Ambleside in West Vancouver, on a beautiful fall afternoon, the kind that makes you almost understand the astronomical real estate prices. I was standing there in the breeze of this gorgeous day, pointing out how you could see the spectre of Mount Baker, caked in snow between the spires of the Lion's Gate Bridge, when suddenly Ez said "I can see it!" - and sure enough, you really could. It seems more convex, and the curve of my belly starts higher up, in a place that might have previously induced me to freak out. But not today! Today, when we looked at that gentle arc, we felt like we could see our baby for the first time, and it felt wonderful!

It's funny too, that he's the one who noticed, even more that I, who has been looking so diligently. He is also the one who noticed (how did I not?) that my belly-button has changed. My usual half-jigger divot (courtesy of an over-zealous surgeon during a hernia operation at age 10) has halved itself again, flattened out across its bottom, and my little bangle that I use to sort of disguise this trait sits just a little further out at the bottom. It's small, a tiny baby step, but it is great to finally see those little things you've awaited. We know it will all go quickly, that someday my growing belly will seem less novel than uncomfortable, but for now, it means that things are going along as planned, and that we are dancing our way through the amazing waltz that will bring us our son or daughter.

11 week pictures

11 weeks and counting

So, 11 weeks! And so freakin' busy I can barely keep track! I've booked another movie, a gig on 'Supernatural' and am keeping up with auditions and voicework - it's all I can do to stay awake past 9:30 pm - which they tell me will pass. I've been really tired but it is great to be working and also that Ez is working. He got himself an audition and then booked a recurring bad guy/stunt-actor in a great new series called 'Traveler' - he even said his first line in the last episode - a big milestone for him! It looks like the universe is being very kind to us lately, and we are very grateful and happy.

Things are moving along, although it feels a little like the limbo I talked about before - not much to show yet, as you can see by the photos, but the intial 'shock and awe' has kind of worn off and so we're just waiting for the first signs, our first ultrasound pictures (that 10 weeks baby pic is not ours!) and our first 'quickening' which we anitcipate with bated breath. Other than some bizarre food aversions (chocolate!? who could have seen that coming?) and a few weeks of feeling truly gross, I can honestly say that the fatigue has been the worst of it, so I feel I could hardly complain. I'm feeling all around pretty happy and lucky and we just wait for the next sign from our little one.

10 weeks for real! I'm a fetus now!

So, 10 weeks for real this time! Very exciting, all things considered! It seems like one more small milestone, one more chance to breathe a little more and and hope a little more. So what's going on in there this week?

Well, our little Yukon baby has got 20 tiny baby tooth buds, and in addition to little wrists and ankles, they have little fingers and toes you could see. Genitals have begun to form - crazy to think this baby is already one or the other - but we'll all have to wait til the end to find out (we like surprises!). The lungs are developing still as well as the stomach and intestines which have moved into its abdomen. And the tiny little heart is almost developed. Which might explain why I feel so emotional - now I have two hearts!

stuck in 1st trimester limbo

So, I did recover from the other day's disappointment (as I have from all others in life!) but it was really so disconcerting.

I kept saying it was like having to repeat the third grade or something. But here we are, again on the eve of week 10 (didn't we already do this??) when we go from embryo to fetus which is yet another small milestone. It's so funny to be counting days and then you speak to someone, like my friend Marsha whose sons both just left for university and you see how time compresses and how eventually, all this will seem a distant memory.

I remember having a similar feeling when we cut together all the old super-8 footage from Ez's childhood and his trip to the Philippines. There they all were, Ez with his little overalls criss-crossed in the front , still learning to walk. Pat and Lolita somewhere near where we are now, young, struggling with small children and all the perils of that period of life. Lolita, always beautiful, shines out at us with the brown-skinned glory of a young mother, leaning against a red car that would now be considered a classic. Cindy, now a mother of a four- and a two-year old, wobbles back and forth on a hobby horse that would never past safety standards in this litigious day and age. And now, everyone is grown and it is as though someone threw a switch and transported them all to now, for we cannot see all the years in between.

And so it seems so silly to be sitting here counting days, even mourning days seemingly 'lost' when it will all pass in the blink of an eye.

This is the limbo time, the transition period. I'm still barely pregnant, not out of the woods, not yet showing. The initially vibrant and overwhelming joy has muted itself - we've gotten used to the idea, now we're just waiting till the next stage. And so because I cannot feel my baby, have yet to hear its tiny poppy-seed heart, I am stuck in the land of wondering what it will all be like. Everywhere I look I see babies and pregnant women and children, in numbers I had not previously imagined. When I see them I think 'Look! They all did it! It's fine!' and yet still it doesn't quell the unrest of this time. I look so forward to the first time I hold this child in my arms, hear its indignant wail at being born, bask in the infinite glory that will be our own small miracle and right now all I can see is that the time will pass so quickly and become the everyday. I hear my brother moaning in the phone as his two-year old son Brody managed to pee all over his new floors and I hear in his voice how the wonder wears off and becomes real life. And it's not that I bemoan that, per se, I just wonder how to keep a piece of this wonderous time, this time right now when everything is hope and joy and miracle. Perhaps that is the essence of parenting - living in the everyday, while somehow keeping a tiny window open on the time when it was still only joy.

we have a discrepancy in weeks

Hmmmm,

Today the doctor's office called and she thinks I'm less pregnant than I think. I feel unhappy about this and have decided not to listen as I can't bear to lose any days. The way I see it, July 2nd was day 1. That makes 76 days (nearly 11 weeks) or 10 weeks and 4 days. Not 9 weeks 4 days as she says. I think she's wrong. I don't like her system. I'm not listening. Finally we got some happy thoughts from someone - the doctor at the appointment (my discrepancy is with the receptionist) said that once you get past 8 weeks that is a good sign and then 10 weeks is very good. Before that is more touch and go, but once you get this far, things tend to carry on and I liked to hear that instead of the doom-and-gloom approach we had been getting. You'd think almost no one had had a pregnancy happen the way people talk about it, it's shocking.

I need to see this played out in numbers....bear with me...

July 2-8 1 week
July 9-15 2 weeks
July 16-22 3 weeks
July 23-29 4 weeks
July 30-Aug5 5 weeks
Aug 6-12 6 weeks
Aug 13-19 7 weeks
Aug 20-26 8 weeks
Aug 27- Sep 2 9 weeks
Sep 3-9 10 weeks

Oh shit.

I guess I do see it. This is day 4 of my 10th week, which is different from 10 weeks 4 days. So I guess it is 9 weeks and 4 days. But still it is my 10th week! Right? Hmmmm. I don't like this at all. It's like when you first find out you get these 2 bonus weeks you knew nothing about - like really every woman is walking around 2 weeks pregnant - and then suddenly you're not as pregnant as you thought. And you're so scared because all anyone seems to intimate is that you could lose your baby at any second - it's awful and scary and frightening. No one seems to talk about he 75% of pregnancies that go just fine. That 25% looms over you until you get to the second trimester - which feels like forever away - especially when you suddenly lose time.

I feel like a little kid again, the way they always push their ages ahead, like they can't wait to grow up. Ask how old they are and they'll say "6 and 3/4" or "almost 10!" - I guess I've fallen prey to that because I just want so badly for everything to go well. So I guess I'm not 10 weeks and 4 days. I'm only 9 weeks 4 days. And still not out of the woods. I want to cry for no real reason, just that empty feeling like when you look at your bank statement and there's way less money than you thought. It's fine, I know, we're still fine and growing and we just have to be patient. But damn! I hate when numbers are right...