The comfort factor

I made a wonderful discovery while visiting Nova Scotia:

Maternity jeans.

These magical pants, they look like regular jeans (er, as long as you don't tuck your shirt in), but they feel like yoga pants. Miraculous! I'm still able to fit into some of my jeans -- thanks to the super-low waisted styles of recent years -- but I didn't realize that they weren't that comfortable until I found the maternity jean.

I may never go back. I'm hardly even kidding. Julie (who also got a pair -- different brand and style, but similar comfort wow-factor) and I are trying to convince our fellas that they, too, should consider the maternity jean for themselves. No takers yet.

It was a great trip - I ate too many cookies, managed to fit in a run on the country roads, beat my mom in scrabble (just barely), slept in every day, and procured a fabulous recipe for baked oatmeal. As usual, we wished we could stay another week.

Today, our first day back, we had our first appointment with the midwife. I was very very very looking forward to this appointment, during which we would meet the midwife for the first time, and get on this whole "prenatal care" bandwagon.

The appointment was... not what I expected. I've spent the better part of the day trying to figure it out. I think I've got it now: my expectations were ridiculous.

In a weird twist of fate, I am "related" to or pretty good friends with no less than five midwives. All of them are fantastic women who I adore and respect. They comprise an obstetric dream team. When I imagine my pre-natal care, I imagine a clinical relationship just like the relationships I have with these women. How unrealistic is that? Pretty much anything after that figment is going to be disappointing.

So, in an attempt to not be disappointed, I've been trying to put it in perspective. I did not get a negative impression from my midwife. She was very friendly. She was nice. She was not really a person I'm likely to be pals with, but a) how could I tell on first impression, and b) why, really, should I expect -- or even want -- that from a clinician? She didn't ask me many questions, didn't really seem to make an effort to get a feel for my situation, but then, I have the most incredibly boring medical history on the face of the earth ("no" to everything that could possibly complicate anything including allergies - same for family members), AND I don't even have any weird pregnancy things going on. And I was totally relaxed. And I kinda mentioned that I was reading the midwifery textbook instead of "What to Expect When Expecting" - which may have told her all she needed to know. ;-)

Céline dropped by to pick up Constance (who comes home after school now, rather than going to daycare), and asked how it when. When I told her that I was verging on disappointed, she pointed out to me that given the health care sitch in the Ottawa-Outaouais region (ie: hard to get a doc, even harder to get a midwife), I might not be able to get the very specific care I dream of, and should feel lucky to have what I have. (She said this very gently and diplomatically, of course.)

Very, very good point. Long story short, (or to cut short a long story), pondering this idea it took me back to feeling happy and excited about how this is all working out. And if I'm ever in doubt, there's always The Bookclub (ie: aforementioned obstetric dream team).

All in the family

My mom, sister and I were watching Oprah this afternoon. It was this big feminism episode, with Gloria Steinem, Billie Jean King, Maria Schriver... There was a clip of Maria at the Democratic convention watching her uncle, Ted Kennedy, giving a speech. Oprah and Maria discussed how moving the moment was, and they cut to a clip showing Maria crying as she listened to the speech.

Julie, Mom and I immediately also teared up. WTF? We all looked at each other, wiping tears, and giggled.

Did I mention that my sister is also pregnant? She's due two weeks after me.

Two pregnant sisters + one soon-to-be grandma = surprise emotional outbursts at unexpected moments. Occasionally synchronized.

Good times.

Family vote

When I came down to make coffee this morning, Ben called out from his still-dark room, "So, who won?"

He was referring, of course, to the election. I let him know that "our guy" (the Green candidate) didn't win. Maybe next time. (In Hull? Unlikely, but I was being kind for the sake of the child.)

We took Ben and Constance with us last night when we went to vote. What an experience! First, we walked the kilometre or so to the church, and enjoyed the beautiful fall evening and the kids' enthusiastic chatter the whole way. We of course explained what we were doing and why, and prepped them on what to expect when we got there.

Constance helped me vote. I seriously had not decided when I picked up the little pencil. We went over the ballot, looked at the different parties and people listed, and finally we decided together. (Luckily there was no line-up, because this took a few minutes.) Ben went through the same process with McPie.

McPie had to register because he was not on the electors list. The fellow signing him up was chit-chatting with him and Ben when Constance walked up. The fellow asked Ben if this was his sister. Did he have any other brothers or sisters? Ben shook his head no, paused, then said: "But my mom is having a baby. [He points over at me, standing a few steps away.] A fin du mars."
Fellow waves and grins. I blush madly.

On the way home, Constance walked with me, and I explained how the House of Commons works: how the country was divided into sections, and each section picked one person (like we had just done), and one person from each section gets to go to the Parliament (which the kids just visited with the school last week), and the Party with the most folks in the Parliament gets to run the government. She was pretty intrigued. And then she decided that we had the best family in the world because we were all so very happy. I'm not sure of the connection to the election, but I'm guessing it had something to do with the night air, and anyway I'm the last one to argue with that conclusion!

At home, Ben was disappointed that the election show wasn't on TV yet. McPie had promised that he could watch a little of the results. Instead, he settled for a homemade pumpkin square, and some quiet reading in bed.

Speaking of which - glory of glories - our 7-year-old has discovered the joy of solitary reading! He found a series of books (graphic chapter books, actually, featuring this cartoon creature names Ariol) that he just loves, and he reads by himself: at the dining table, the kitchen table, in bed, alone, or with people around. Almost silently; we can occasionally hear him murmur under his breath as he figures out words he doesn't know. He exclaims randomly to no one in particular "oh, this story is so good". It was barely a year ago that he was reading his first words! And high-energy extrovert that he is, I'm frankly quite amazed that he's so into this activity. But I guess I shouldn't be... The kids surprise and amaze us pretty regularly. (Constance's dinnertime, pre-voting rant about how we should implement communism à la Thomas More's Utopia is yet another example from last night. Of course, she didn't use the words "communism" or "utopia" - we taught her those in the course of the conversation - but in trying to describe how there should be no money, and how everyone should work and share things freely, she pretty much nailed the main tenets.)

Well, that was last night's excitement. Now, I'm in the airport, waiting to board my flight to Nova Scotia. I'll post more from there!

Feeling great and giving thanks

I've been a little bit MIA from the potluck - you may have noticed? I've an assortment of excuses up my sleeve: busy doing things, busy doing nothing, indulging my latent introvert. (Er, more like my blatant introvert.)

I have been doing a little writing: I wanted to keep a journal of my physical progress through pregnancy, mostly in how it relates to working out (because that is one of my main hobbies - I was pretty sure that being knocked up wasn't going to impact my ability to read or cook...). Not wanting to hijack this life-blog or the Glee Club in the name of prenatal musings, I started a new, temporary online journal. So, not entirely idle over here.

Also, I've been knitting: I'm partway through a scarf for Constance and baby blanket for myself. Well, not me per se...

And reading: I've finished DeNiro's Game by Rawi Hage (very dark, stark narrative style, story comes together after a chaotic start), Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips (light and fun, makes me want to know more about Greek myth), and Dune by Frank Herbert (clumsily written in my opinion, but gripping plot - I blasted through it!). I've moved onto Madame Bovary -- at bookclub we thought it was time to get into something a little meatier... I'm enjoying it so far.

Also on the "currently reading" list is Myles Textbook for Midwives, borrowed from Celine. Typical "what to expect" books have nothing on a midwifery textbook - I'm getting the REAL details (about the actually physiology of things, mostly), and it's exactly the info I was looking for. (Don't worry, I'm skipping the scary bits; I do realize that there are things that would be better to remain a mystery to me.) It's also reassuring to discover how much midwives really know. Trust me, it's A LOT.

I've been working a bit on the house/kitchen: We finished the cork floor, and because the dining room walls were then pretty much the same colour of the floor, I repainted it a lovely deep blue. I've also stained the baseboards that McPie sized and cut; they just need to be tacked on. We just love the new floor so far - besides just looking nicer, it feels wonderful under the feet. A little slippery, a little soft, a little warm.

And I've been giving thanks: Thanks for friends (I've been back in touch with several in the past few weeks, including actual face time with Lauren and Angela); thanks for my health (I'm still feeling wonderful, strong, energetic - mostly - and am pretty confident that I'll be able to get my head around all the recent and imminent body changes); and thanks for my family (which I could go on and on about).

I'm SO LUCKY to have the opportunity to be home and not working right now. My good fortune does not escape me at all. Because my time is my own, I am able to concentrate my energy things that are important to me. I'm grateful to the have the time to focus on getting/keeping myself healthy by exercising and the subsequent requisite napping. I'm grateful to have the time and energy to spend so much extra time with the kids. It's bringing us a lot closer together as a family. We're tight, and I feel like this is part of the foundation of affection and trust that will be necessary in a few months when the dynamics of the family change dramatically.

Not surprisingly, I've much more to say about all of this (and I haven't even gotten to Thanksgiving dinner itself, the whole election thing, or my upcoming trips to Nova Scotia and Florida), but the afternoon is flying, and I still have laundry, baking and dishes to do before picking up the kids...