Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Honest Scrap



I'm flattered that Wordgirl over at Blood Signs thought of me for this award. This forces me to post something, so that's good, and I'm happy to share a little bit of trivia about myself. I'll be borrowing some of the items I listed in that ubiquitous Facebook tag. So, without further ado:


1. I watch the Oscars every year, and get so excited by the show that you'd think I was nominated for an award! I have been collecting special Oscar editions of Entertainment Weekly for more than a decade. My magazine sits next to me on my couch (as does my husband--he's such a good guy!) on the night of the show, and, as the winners are announced, I put a little check in the appropriate box of my magazine's ballot. Why I do this, I'm not sure, but I'm fairly sure that I'm a nerd. I try to see as many Oscar nominated movies as I can before the show every year. (I used to manage to see a lot more of them than I do now that I'm a mom.) Given the aforementioned information, it probably won't come as a surprise that, when I was younger, I thought I wanted to be an actress. But, alas, I was too much of an introvert to go through with an audition that I was supposed to do for a school in Toronto, Ontario, which had a good theatre program. I did, however, perform in two musicals in high school -- Little Shop of Horrors and Grease.


2. I love the scent of lilacs. I get so excited every spring when they finally bloom and I can put my nose into them and breathe in deeply. I had a spring wedding, so I requested that lilacs be put into my wedding bouquet. (As an aside, I loved my wedding day. Not because I was really into all of the hoopla that sometimes goes along with weddings--more like in spite of that, actually--but because I remember feeling very loved and supported.)

3. I love to read, but I have a stack of recently purchased, unread books on my nightstand (and desk and bookshelf) that I can't seem to find time for (too much reality TV, I think). :(


4. Going on canoe trips in gorgeous Canadian parks used to be a big part of my life. I had some great times with Sean and our friends on those trips. I hope to take Kate on a canoe trip one day (hopefully in Algonquin Provincial Park). (I think I may be sneaking an extra item in here, but I thought I should let you know that I was born and raised in Canada, but have been living in the Twin Cities for about two and a half years now.)


5. I have loved the French language since I first started learning it in the fourth grade. I took ninth-grade French when I was in eighth grade, and took French throughout high school. When I got to university, I temporarily abandoned French, but then after two changes in my major and a two-year-long hiatus from school, I decided on French as my course of study and I eventually earned a French degree. I don't use my degree now, but I'm glad I persevered and got it done--it wasn't easy for me due to lack of self discipline and little self confidence.


6. I adore travelling--I love to see new sights, eat new food, and hear different languages. I've travelled to 15 countries outside of Canada, and I hope to travel to many more in my lifetime. My first backpacking trip to Europe happened during the hiatus from school that I mentioned in item #5. In fact, it was during that trip that my love for French was rekindled and that is what led me to studying it at university.


7. I met my husband a little over sixteen years ago while we were at university. (We've only been married for six years this May, though.) We played hooky from school together for those two years I mentioned earlier. I'm sure our parents were thrilled that we had met one another! We worked at miserable jobs for a year in order to make money for our trip to Europe, and then we took off together. We have no regrets about that.


8. I lived and worked (as an au pair) in a suburb of Paris, France in the summer of 1997. I fell in love with Paris and I hope to go back one day.


9. I have met David Letterman. I stalked him outside of the Ed Sullivan Theater in New York, after the taping of a show. He was very gracious--he talked to me for a minute and shook my hand before driving off in his Porsche. I felt like I was walking on air afterwards! Yes, I can be a little star-struck.


10. I have gone spelunking in two different countries--Hungary and New Zealand. (To be honest, I have done this, but I think I'm including it in this list, at least partly, because I like the word spelunking.) Speaking of New Zealand, travelling there was my last great travel adventure with Sean before we became parents. That trip will be hard to beat as far as travel experiences go--New Zealand was breathtakingly beautiful and full of exciting things to do.


Now for the hard part (for me, at least). I'm supposed to bestow this award upon seven other bloggers, which is a little tricky for me because I don't really know seven other bloggers. Had I not been tagged by Wordgirl, I would have awarded her, as she is an amazing writer who writes prolifically about her struggle with infertility, as well as her childhood and daily life. I also would have awarded Tobacco Brunette who is honest and very funny, but I know she has already done this. She struggled with infertility and now has a baby boy. There are a few other blogs that I read regularly--a couple of them I've only just started reading, and one I've been reading for a while now--so I think I'll pass this award onto them. They are:


Kate at Mother Words: Mothers Who Write. Kate is a mother, writer and teacher who writes honestly and beautifully about motherhood, books she has read, and about being a writer.


Jennifer at Thursday Drive is also a writer who writes about anything and everything on her blog, and does so intelligently and elegantly. I have been moved by her honesty, insight, and courage.


Krista at my life as i see it. This is one of the blogs I've just started reading, and its writer doesn't know me--I guess I'll have to introduce myself now. I was drawn to her blog for a couple of reasons. Like me, she is a mother of a daughter. Also, she seems to have been through some tough stuff in her life which she writes about in a really raw and powerful way. I've recently read some powerful poetry on her blog. I'm impressed by her resilience.


Well, I'm afraid that will have to do. I suppose this means that I should start adding more blogs to my blog list!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

And now for something a little lighter...

Okay, so I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but I am addicted to The Bachelor. There, I said it. I know it's just mindless reality (highly debatable) TV, but I seriously can't get enough of it. It offers me some light, escapist entertainment, and sometimes a person really needs that kind of junk. I guess I'm a bit of a romantic, too, so every time a new season starts I have hope that this time the "process" is going to work, and the bachelor will actually find a life partner amidst the gaggle of suspiciously attractive and often too-young women. So, last night it was time for the bachelor Jason to visit the hometowns of the final four women. Holy **** that was good TV!

It is always fun to get a glimpse into the lives of the contestants' families; you get to see everything from the absurd (like last night's scene where a contestant's mother revealed a dead dove that she had been keeping in her freezer until the right time for burial presented itself; apparently, in her wisdom, she decided that the right occasion for a dove's funeral was on the day she was to meet her daughter's boyfriend for the first time) to the truly touching--a dad choking up because he was talking about his daughter and what she means to him. My pick ('cause it matters, you know) for Jason is Jillian--a funny, smart, genuine, real, and, yes, attractive woman from British Columbia, Canada (okay, so I'm a little biased, but I swear I'm not choosing her because we were born in the same country.)

Monday, February 9, 2009

Another Ectopic

I found out I was pregnant about two and a half weeks ago. I suspected that I was, so on the earliest day possible, I woke early and went to my bathroom to take a test. My heart was thumping as I waited for the result, and then, a couple of minutes later, I looked down at the stick. I could see that two lines had formed in the test window. I was thrilled and I became a bit teary. I crept back to my bedroom and into bed, and looked over at my groggy husband with a smile on my face. "I'm pregnant," I said. He gave me a big smile back and hugged me. He told me he loved me. "I love you, too," I said. And then we quickly sobered and discussed that we should try not to get ahead of ourselves, and that I should go to get my first HCG test done as soon as possible.

I had my first blood draw later that day. Five more followed after that--one every two days. My heart would pound with worry and anxiety every time I was about to get my result. Sometimes I would even cry with relief on hearing the good news that my HCG levels had doubled, because I had been so full of fear and worry, always expecting the worst. Every time, the result seemed promising--my HCG levels were doubling, even tripling once. I started to let some hope creep into my heart; I started to think about when the baby would be due; I started to think about cradling him or her, and singing lullabies; I started to imagine Kate being a big sister, having a playmate. Once my HCG levels were over 2000, I was supposed to schedule an ultrasound; the embryo would be large enough to be seen on ultrasound at that point, and an ultrasound would provide confirmation that the embryo was in my uterus. My HCG levels soared above 2000 on the Saturday before last, so I was going to call my doctor's office the following Monday to schedule my ultrasound. Then, on Sunday, I started to feel a strange pressure in my lower abdomen. I hoped that it was just gas, just a normal symptom of pregnancy, but I thought I remembered experiencing something similar with the ectopic I had in September, 2007.

I decided that I would give it a few hours and see if it went away. I went for a short walk on my treadmill--the first action my treadmill had seen from me in an extremely long time. (I had decided that I needed to get some regular exercise during this pregnancy--it would be good for me and the baby, and it could only help during labour.) The feeling didn't go away. I called a nurseline and the woman I spoke with took down the information I gave her and told me someone from the babyline would call me back. About forty-five minutes later a nurse, whom I don't care for a great deal, called me to say that she had consulted with my doctor, and that, unless I was experiencing pain or bleeding, I could wait until the next day to schedule my ultrasound. I calmly explained to her that I didn't feel comfortable waiting until I was bleeding, given that the last time I had an ectopic, I did not experience great pain and I had no bleeding. She then repeated, in a condescending manner, what my doctor had said. I told her I would take it into consideration and then make a decision about what I should do. I also asked where I should go if I made the decision that I should have an ultrasound that day. She gave me the information, but was almost trying to dissuade me from doing it. (Can you tell I'm a little bitter?)

Anyway, after some back and forth discussion with my mother (over the phone) and my husband Sean, I decided that I should go to the ER. Sean got my daughter Kate ready for the car ride, I got myself ready, and off we went. They dropped me at the ER and then left so that Sean could try to get Kate to nap in the car. (We have no family here, so Kate had to be with us.) I made my way to the ER receptionist, and almost apologetically explained to her why I was there. I was feeling like I was probably overreacting, and that I would hopefully find out in a short period of time that my baby was where it should be.

After a lot of waiting around, I was eventually chauffeured on a hospital bed, by a kind transport person, to radiology, where a very sympathetic woman waited to give me my ultrasound. I asked her if she would tell me if she saw the embryo in my uterus (I knew she wasn't supposed to). She gently explained that the radiologist and doctor would have to review the results first and then they would speak to me. I stared at the computer screen. I looked hard for a sign of life in my uterus. At one point, I saw something pulsing and I asked if that was a heartbeat. I knew it couldn't be, as it was too early in my pregnancy, but I guess rational thought had fled me at that point. She said no, that it was my own blood that I saw pumping. After a while, I noticed that she had typed the words "gestational sac" on the screen, so I asked, "Is that my uterus you're looking at?"
"No--I'm sorry--it's not," she said. And that's when I knew that I would not be having this baby. I started to cry. The technician was kind and tried to tell me that she could be wrong and not to jump to conclusions yet, but I could tell she knew that this was not a normal pregnancy. I just could not believe that this was happening again.

Another trip on a hospital bed followed, with warm blankets wrapped around me this time for comfort. The white walls of the hospital hallways were a blur as I rode along trying to process what I had just learned. I was pushed back into the small room in the ER where I had been waiting earlier, and I saw that Sean and Kate were now there waiting for me. Sean had been reading a book to Kate. He looked at me and could see from my eyes that something was wrong, so he came to me and I quietly explained what was going on. We had to be quiet and try as much as possible to keep it together because Kate was there in the room with us. Sean, though sad himself, focused on Kate. He resumed reading to her while I spoke with three doctors who had entered the room. They explained that a laparoscopic surgery was the best course of action; that they would do it that evening; that there was a "mass" in my right fallopian tube, which they would remove along with my tube. I tried not to lose it, and I tried to reassure Kate that I was fine, while Sean continued to read to her to keep her distracted.

After it was confirmed that I would be having another laparoscopic surgery, Sean and I discussed plans for childcare for Kate for later that night, after she was asleep. He arranged for a friend from Kate's and my play group to come over and stay at our house so that he could return to the hospital to be with me after the surgery. (We are so thankful for the wonderful people in my play group, all of whom I met in my first ECFE class two years ago.) I hugged and kissed both Kate and Sean, and we said good-bye. I was alone from then until the surgery began, waiting for it to be over. It is in moments like those that I wish we had family nearby. I wish that Kate could have been with family from the moment we suspected something was wrong so that she didn't have to be exposed to, and confused by, the sadness, and so that I could have had Sean with me the whole time. I wish that he could have been there to hold my hand and keep me company while I waited to be taken into surgery. However, we were all fine, and he was there when I woke up, so that's all that matters. He stayed with me in my hospital room until about 2:30 a.m. He said he wanted to stay with me until I was falling asleep.

The next morning, one of the doctors who had participated in the surgery came to see me to discuss the operation and what my next steps should be. She told me that they removed most of my right tube and that my left tube looked good. She said that I should be able to conceive again if I decide that's what I want to do. Sean and Kate came to pick me up by mid-morning, and I got to return to the comfort of my home. Sean has been absolutely amazing. He has cancelled two trips for work and stayed home all of last week to be with Kate. He allowed me to sleep in every morning, and nap during the day if I needed to. He took Kate out to have some fun every day, and also to our ECFE class. He went grocery shopping, made meals, and did all of the cleanup. He is incredible (which I already knew, but this provides further confirmation).

I know how lucky I am to have Sean and Kate in my life, and although I would be sad if I weren't able to have another child, I know that it would be okay. I think we will try, though. I want to have another baby--for me, for Sean, and for Kate. The last time this happened, I couldn't bring myself to try again for more than a year. This time, I think we'll try much sooner. I'm not quite as afraid this time. Maybe because I know that the damaged tube was removed, so the chances of it happening again are reduced. I think I may write about the next pregnancy (this is me being hopeful) from the time I find out about it. Maybe it'll help to know that I've got one or two people out there rooting me on. For now, I'm going to continue gathering emotional and physical strength, and I'm going to get on with my very blessed life as Kate's mom and Sean's wife.