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.