Well, Monday we drove about three hours for the privilege of paying doctors and technicians to poke and prod me and evaluate various fluids. The results? I'm healthy and will not pose a threat to the health of Canadians if the government lets me stay here.

I could have told them that. But I guess they don't trust me.

All in all it wasn't a bad trip. It was inconvenient, sure (Adam missed class, I got blood drawn, it was a long drive). But it went pretty smoothly and it gave us an opportunity to stop at Ikea. We now have bookshelves, a desk chair for me, a cheap, simple high chair for Lucy, and an even cheaper potty (which she won't be needing for quite some time, but who knows when we'll get another chance to go to Ikea), and a few other odds and ends that had been on our shopping list for quite some time.

If I wasn't already in love with Ikea (and I certainly am) I would have fallen in love after using their nursing room. I don't mind nursing wherever I happen to be (though I prefer to sit in a chair of some sort). Usually it's easiest to just feed Lucy right on the spot so she doesn't get too upset to eat while I'm looking for someplace nice to sit. Sometimes I can anticipate a pending feeding session and will find someplace cozy. Ikea has someplace cozy. The nursing room is furnished with Ikea products (just like the cafeteria) including a real changing table (not one of those plastic things that folds down from the wall) and a super comfy leather chair. There are even toys in case baby has an older sibling who needs something to do while mum's nursing. And you can even control the volume of the store radio. And the room was clean. I was very pleased. If I could have I would have just chilled there for a while after Lucy was done because it was so nice. But I had to go sacrifice blood to the Immigration Gods.

Well, dear readers, it's MS Monday! Bet you thought I had forgotten seeing as this post is coming pretty late in the day. I didn't forget. I was in Calgary for some immigration stuff. I'll write more about that later. But I will say this...I'm beat!

Today for MS Monday I want to give you a preview of things to come:

There will be a very cool raffle to raise funds for the MS Walk.*

Anyone who donates can have their name (or a screen name) added to the "Dust Bunny Honor Roll" with a link to their blog or another website of their choice.*

There is a Facebook Group already up and running.

I also want to spend a moment discussing signs/symptoms and diagnosis of MS.

The symptoms of MS are varied and numerous. They can include pain, spasticity, cognitive dysfunction, fatigue, partial paralysis, vision problems, and even dementia (though rarely). For a more thorough look at the very, very long list of possible symptoms visit here or here.

MS is not an easy disease to diagnose. Unfortunately it isn't as simple as doing a blood test and getting a positive. Getting a diagnosis requires answering a lot of questions about one's medical history, and undergoing lots of tests (such as neurological and vision tests). Then, after all that, an MRI is usually used to confirm the diagnosis. For a look at the current criteria used to make a diagnosis see this Wikipedia entry on the McDonald Criteria.

MS diagnoses are almost as mysterious as the disease itself which researchers are still trying to find the cause and cure for. To help fund the ongoing research and to help those affected by an MS diagnosis click here.

*These perks will be retroactive for those who have already made donations.

If you had been a fly on the wall during my 36 hour labor there would have come a point when you heard me desperately telling Adam that I didn't want to do it anymore, that I wished they could just c-section me and end it (of course, if that had actually been presented as an option I probably would have run screaming in the other direction as I was absolutely terrified of getting a c-section). My point is that labor is hard, especially 36 hours of it. Things certainly got easier once I was given some nitrous oxide. In fact, I began to enjoy myself at that point (laughing gas and I are great pals). Then of course came the exam from hell (pardon my language, but there really is no other way to describe it) which yielded the information that I had made no further progress. No progress = "We're going to augment your labor."

sigh

Here's something most doctors won't tell you about induced or augmented labor: it's bad. And by "bad" I mean that it hurts way more, and tires the laboring women out way more than natural labor does. So when I was told I was getting augmented I basically said "Fine...but only if you give me an epidural." I had dreamed of, planned for, and expected a 100% natural labor, but after having been in labor for 30 hours and not having gone to bed in over 45 hours my body was spent, and my mind was spent. Baby had been doing well but it was only a matter of time before things would have started going downhill. If we didn't do something I probably would have ended up with a c-section. And, frankly, I just wanted to be able to enjoy the rest of the experience.

And I did, as best as I can remember.

See...here's the thing (and one of the reasons for the title to this post): you forget a lot about what happened in labor. Even as I wrote this I had to ask Adam for help with the details. Much of those 36 hours are lost in a haze.

And here's the other reason for the title: you kind of forget how much you wanted it to be over and to never have to do it again.

I remember wanting to be done at the time. I think I remember wanting to never do it again at the time. But, as weird as it is, I don't feel it anymore. In fact, I feel nostalgic about the whole ordeal! Call me crazy...but I'm looking forward to doing it again some day (of course...I'm also assuming I won't have to do it for 36 hours next time). I guess this "labor amnesia" is Nature's way of ensuring women continue have babies.

What frightens me about the idea of doing it again is not the prospect of laboring and giving birth. Rather, what frightens me is the prospect of sharing my love and attention between two little people instead of being solely devoted to Lucy. When I try to imagine having another child I think of that potential person with suspicion and resentment...as if he or she would take something away from my precious daughter. These feelings must be either A: unique to me or B: common among mothers, but temporary because, well...there are an awful lot of families with more than one child.

I imagine, that like the feelings I had during labor that are already fading from memory these too will fade. And someday Lucy will have a little brother or sister to boss around.

Today is our 3rd wedding anniversary. I'd like to say it went something like this:

I awoke to breakfast in bed (waffles with fruit, scrambled eggs, and orange juice). Then Adam and I exchanged cards and gifts. I gave him a hurricane lantern and he gave me picture frames (because glass/crystal is the assigned gift for 3rd anniversaries). Later in the day we went out to dinner and Lucy behaved beautifully. To top off the evening we toasted with sparkling grape juice and watched a movie together.

I'd like to say that, but I think the Bible says something about lying...

Today went more like this:

Adam woke up and headed straight to a walk-in clinic because he has been very ill for the past 6 days (food poisoning is our best guess). He waited for about an hour just to sign in, came home for a few minutes (to eat) then went back and waited for another hour to see the doctor (who now has him under orders to consume only clear liquids for 24 hours). I spent the day (until 3 something) in bed trying to catch up on sleep (minus waking up to take care of Lucy). Neither of us had gifts or even cards for the other (what with the being sick/taking care of a newborn/unemployment/etc. that's been going on lately).

But you know what? It's been a great 3 years. And I can't wait to see what the next year has in store for us.

Today is my birthday. I have no special plans (other than having chicken noodle soup with dumplings for dinner - a childhood favorite). Sometimes I am asked how I feel about having a December birthday, especially now that there is a very good chance my daughter will also have a December birthday (please, oh please have a December and not a January birthday)! Well, my answer is this: I LOVE it! Christmas is my absolute "favoritest" holiday of them all! I can not think of another month in which I would rather celebrate my birthday. The snow (when there is any), the decorations, the music, the cheer in the air; they all make one's birthday just that much more magical. Of course, what would make my birthday truly magical is if my birthday wish came true. What is it you ask? Well...allow me to discard all the "don't tell or it won't come true" advice and reveal it.

I want my baby!

Do I think I'll get said birthday wish? Um, no. I seriously doubt my baby is going to arrive 19 days before her due date. But a gal can dream right? "It's my party and I can be delusional if I want to"...(aren't those the lyrics?).

Now, don't think I'm getting antsy because I'm miserable. I'm not. In fact...other than being tired (which I have been this whole pregnancy) and feeling like my hips are falling apart on occasion (which I have also been dealing with for much of this pregnancy) I feel pretty dang good! I don't want my baby because I'm sick of being pregnant. I want my baby because I want my baby! Adam and I both are just very excited.

Yesterday I had a really great appointment at the Maternity Clinic (I know, hard to believe isn't it?). In the past Loree had recommended I try to get an appointment with Dr. Correia. She said she was one of the "good" ones at the clinic. So I did. And I did NOT like her. Well, this most recent appointment I did not have the luxery of choosing my doctor because it was a matter of "just give me whatever you've got." When I checked in I was told I would be seeing Dr. Correia. "Oh well," I thought. "At least it isn't Dr. G." *shudder*

Well, who should walk into the room but a woman who is most certainly not the same woman I saw last time. Apparently the Mat Clinic pulled a fast one on me and gave me a Dr. Correia imposter a few months back. Turns out that I love Dr. Correia! I was quite disappointed when she told me she wasn't currently accepting patients for her family practice (disappointed but not at all surprised).

After my appointment (at which I was informed that Lovey has good heart valves and is at a wonderful size...despite the numerous comments I have received along the lines of: *person looks at my belly then says* "Wow! You're gonna have a big baby!" - something every pregnant woman wants to hear...not)...anyway, after my appointment Adam and I got to tour Labor & Delivery and the Maternity wing. We're impressed. Previously I had been planning on getting out of the hospital and home as soon as possible after Lovey's arrival. But upon having the tour (and being informed that I will only have to share a room if absolutely necessary and that Adam can stay with me overnight) I think I might just stay for the typical 2-3 days. Of course, I may change my mind one or two (or twelve) times.

Anyhow, the appointment and tour (and the fact that I was having a bunch of Braxton-Hicks contractions last night) has got us quite excited for the real deal. Lovey is "officially" fully baked. So technically she could come at any time. Statistically she'll probably come after the due date. But like I said before: "It's my party and I can be delusional if I want to."

ETA: So, Blogger decided to get all wonky on me and isn't loading the pictures correctly. To see them in all their glory you'll have to click on them. Sorry.

A lot has been going on recently. So here's a random collection of mini-updates and pictures.



Here's a shot of the "apple pear" I got at Safeway. I'm not exactly sure if I ate it "correctly" (am I supposed to wait for it to get soft like a pear?). The texture was OK but the flavor was pretty bland. I'd rather just have a regular apple or a regular pear. But at least now I can say I've tried one of these newfangled hybrid fruits.







Here's a close-up shot of the craft area. The lump on the left is my semi-functional sewing machine with a pillowcase to keep it dust free. This window looks out on the front


To the left of the desk is the closet (the only walk in closet in the whole house...too bad it's not in the master bedroom).


It's still pretty messy in the closet but I figure it doesn't really matter at the moment. We keep our linens (towels, rags, sheets, etc.) and my fabric for sewing in the drawers.


And here's one more shot of the bed. I just wanted to make sure you got a good look at the beautiful quilt Adam's mom made and gave to us as a wedding present (she also made us an incredible pottery set). At some point well get a bed skirt for the bed and put some storage underneath it. But the room is done enough. We've been making progress throughout the house but more needs to be done before I post pictures of the basement, kitchen, master, bathrooms, and Lovey's room.

It's a warm day. You'd think it'd be cooler since it's cloudy. But no such luck. What baffles me is that even on warms days...the cats seem fine. They have fur coats on 24/7! Why do they seem to handle the heat so much better than we do? I badly want a frozen banana right now...but am, sadly, banana-less.

Tonight I have to be at Church at 7:00 to practice a women's quartet that we'll be doing in Church later this month. The last time I sang in Church was at Christmas time (I had a solo in one of the choir songs). And now that I think about it...I haven't heard a word about a choir in our new ward. Could it be that there isn't one? How weird would that be? I can't imagine not having a ward choir. Hopefully no-one will take my wondering as some sign that I should be asked to run one...NOT QUALIFIED! And while I'm curious as to when and what our next callings will be I'm hoping mine has nothing to do with leading, coordinating, or directing music of any sort. I like to sing...but I barely (BARELY) read music (AT ALL).

Do doctors have to take courses on bedside manner when they go through medical school? Because I think (almost) all the doctors at the maternity clinic must have skipped or failed that one...the nurses too. While I understand that they're busy at the clinic...I believe there is always time for a little basic kindness.
The first doctor I saw there was just plain rude (among other flaws). The first thing he said upon walking into the exam room (keeping in mind we have never, ever met) was "So, feeling pregnant and b@#*%$?" I don't remember what I said (probably nothing). But what I should have said is "Why no, I wasn't...until you came in and said that to me. Thanks for asking." Call me a prude but I don't appreciate that kind of language. And I really don't think that's an appropriate greeting the first time you meet someone. Plus...I happen to enjoy being pregnant. I'll admit I have mood swings some times but I wouldn't trade this for anything. So when the male doctor (in other words...doctor who has never and will never experience pregnancy) starts acting like it's such a terrible condition I really don't find it amusing. Honestly, women are pretty much the only people who can get away with making pregnant jokes in the first place.
The next doctor I saw was a woman. She's the only one I've met so far that I liked. Even though there was a possibility we wouldn't hear a heartbeat she tried any way (and succeeded!). The first guy didn't even bother to try even though we specifically said we wanted to.
The last guy I saw ordered me around (do this...do that) but didn't feel a need to tell me why or what he was doing. That bugs me to no end. I like to be in charge of my care and my baby's care thank you very much. Kind of hard to be in charge when you won't even tell me you're doing something before you do it. For example, he started listening for a heartbeat with the Doppler without even warning me or asking for my consent. One second I'm waiting for him to tell me what he's doing the next there's cold goo all over my stomach. While I'm OK with the occasional use of Dopplers and ultrasounds I am also aware that they have not been proven completely safe (and some believe that babies really dislike them). And seeing as we had an ultrasound scheduled for the very next day (during which they would be checking the heartbeat) if this doctor had actually asked me if he could do that I would have said "no."
I actually had a question this time (usually I don't have any because I do so much reading and research on my own). I wanted to know what I could safely use to deal with my acne (which has only gotten worse since being pregnant). His answer? "Soap and water." Duh. I'm aware that I can safely use soap and water. What really irks me is that he acted as if that's the only answer when I know for a fact there is more to it than that. For example...salicylic acid should not be used by pregnant women. He didn't even mention that. He gave me the impression that he either A: knew less about the subject than me, B: was too lazy to take the time to truly answer my question, or C: both. Plus he felt the need to criticize our personal choice to learn our baby's gender ahead of time. Me knowing if my baby is a boy or girl has no medical significance whatsoever so mind your own business.
I've heard good things about a Dr. Prince but the last two times I've tried to see him something has gone wrong (the first time the clinic lost my appointment and I had to wait for the next available doc, the second time I came in on the wrong day and he wasn't there). This next appointment I couldn't see him either because he wasn't available on or near the day they wanted to schedule me. So I asked for whatever woman doctor was going to be available that week. Since the only doctor I've even remotely liked so far has been a woman I figured my luck would be better if I continue that trend.
I'm frustrated with the clinic as a whole, quite frankly. I feel like the appointments are a waste of my time, their time, and the Alberta tax payer's money. I come in, you take my urine and record my weight, ask if I have any questions and move me on out again. They never even tell me anything...not the results from my original blood work, not what they're looking for in my urine (or what they find), nothing. When they weigh me they don't even tell me if I'm gaining too little, too much, or just enough. If you're going to keep all the pertinent information to yourselves what good does it do me to even come in? Honestly...what I really, truly want is to call up a midwife (but Alberta health care won't cover midwives -don't even get me started on the politics of that dumb policy). I have an interview with the local doula on the 19th. I'd LOVE to have a doula at my birth (especially so Adam doesn't have to spend the whole time trying to pry information from the nurses and doctor and enforce our wishes and rights). But I don't think there is any way to afford one this time around. I suppose I am going to have to right a very specific birth plan and have the doc sign it ahead of time. That way if (or should I say when?) hospital staff try to con me into all the stuff I do not want (like an episiotomy) I'll have a little extra back up.

OK. I'll come down off my soap box (for now).

Last night Adam and I went for a walk during the sunset at the park a street over from us. It's basically a big nature reserve. We saw a young buck and some bats. It was very cool. And the Deet-free, all natural bug spray we got seems to be working quite well.

The weekend is almost upon us (about time)! Adam and I don't have any plans but that's good. We'll probably work on getting things organized around the house. Is it completely pathetic that we're still not unpacked? It's hard to decide where to put things (we're not used to this much space). We're also in need of a book shelf (so if anybody knows of one in need of a home, old and ugly is fine, let us know). The farmer's market isn't open this week so we'll likely sleep in on Saturday.

You know what makes me sad? Women who don't realize how beautiful, wonderful, valuable, and awesome they are. My friend seems to be having a rough time lately. She's been dealing with a lot of stress, mostly caused by feeling guilt when there's nothing to feel quilty about and feeling fat when she's thin and beautiful. I don't know where all those feelings come from (the media? perfectionism?). But I wish she could see herself the way I see her. I miss her terribly.

I am craving chocolate chip cookies...right now. So I think I'm going to have to go make some. Yum! Maybe I'll bring some to share at practice tonight.