16.11.09

::back to life::

So I haven't blogged since my birth announcement a) because I don't get a lot of long stretches to sit at the computer, and b) because I have been working on that post for so long. But hopefully now I can get back to our regular programming, which will likely now include some baby-related content.

But today, I wanted to share a recipe that I just tried and fell in LOVE with. It's Jamie Oliver's "Scrumptious Spanish Chickpea & Chorizo Soup." Man, oh, man, is this ever good - and easy! If I can make while a two-month-old lies on a play mat, it's a keeper. Try it for yourself! I'm going to freeze half the batch. It may look a bit rustic, but it's fantastic. I have posted it here with some changes I made.



scrumptious spanish chickpea and chorizo soup
starter | serves 4

ingredients
• olive oil
• a ring of chorizo sausage (mild or hot, your choice), finely chopped
• 1 onion, peeled and finely chopped
• 4-6 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped
• 3 sticks of celery, finely chopped
• one package of frozen spinach, thawed
• one large can of whole tomatoes
• one large can of cooked chickpeas, drained
• 5 cups chicken stock
• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 100g prosciutto, finely chopped
• extra virgin olive oil
• 3 hard-boiled eggs, roughly chopped

Put a couple of tablespoons of olive oil into a large pot and add the chorizo. Allow to heat up and cook for a couple of minutes until the fat comes out of the chorizo, then add your onion, garlic and celery. Turn the heat down and cook slowly for 15 minutes with a lid on and without colouring the onions. Now take the lid off – the smell and colour will be fantastic. Stir it around and get some colour happening now. Add your spinach, tomatoes, chickpeas and chicken stock. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and simmer for around 40 minutes.

At this point you can remove about a third of the mixture and purée it in a food processor. Pour it back into the pot, give it a good stir and season to taste with salt and pepper. Remove from the heat and stir in the pata negra or ham and 2 or 3 tablespoons of good Spanish extra virgin olive oil. Divide into bowls and grate some hard-boiled egg on top; it actually adds a lovely richness to it.

Perfect with some fresh ciabatta bread and butter. Enjoy!

::becoming mom::



ATTENTION: To any male readers or squeamish female ones, this post contains descriptive phrases and terms like "membranes," "placenta," "tearing" and "stitches." Consider yourself warned. This is Heidi's birth story. :)


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Written in my journal:

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Dear God,

Five days overdue - had lots of contractions overnight but they subsided when I took a 5 am bath and then went back to sleep. This is very frustrating, God. Last night at home group, Gemma prayed for us and said it takes a strong marriage to have a baby, and that perhaps Your plan for Wayne's time at home was to strengthen our marriage so that we can get through this next period of separation. And that makes a lot of sense, but it still makes me sad for Wayne, and sad that I won't be able to rely on him for my recovery. You must really be trying to teach us a lot of patience and grace. You're succeeding because it's definitely difficult. Lord, you've never let me down, and I do trust Your ways. Please show us the lessons You want us to learn here and the ways we can put them into practice, giving the glory back to You. Amen.

Saturday, September, 15, 2009

Our daughter, Heidi London Baxter, was born Saturday, September 12, at 9:20 am at Surrey Memorial Hospital. She weighed 7 lbs. 13.9 oz. and measure 21 3/4" long.

Contractions began, 5 minutes apart, at 12:30 am, waking me up. The day before, we'd had my membranes swept by the midwife (Ina) and I drank a dose of the lemon verbena oil mother's cocktail to strengthen my Braxton Hicks contractions so they would jump start labour. She told me to expect cramps, but when Wayne and I decided to walk through IKEA, the cervical cramps got so bad that I was doubled over in pain and in tears. By the time we were halfway home, I was reclined in the passenger seat, sobbing. Thankfully, Monica, Wayne's mom, had taken Dora for the day, so we didn't have to deal with the dog.

We came home and napped but when I woke up and found that the cramps had subsided and nothing was happening, I lost it. I was so tired and upset that Wayne had only one full day left at home before having to return to Gagetown for his last course. I told him I could only be positive for so long and I was sick of hearing, "It'll happen soon" or "Don't worry." Thankfully, Wayne knew just what I needed - for him to listen and empathize. He was upset, too, but let me dump on him and let out all my frustrations. I'd lost all hope and was angry at God for taking away my dream. It didn't make sense to me that after losing our first pregnancy last August, and having prayed harder than I ever had before to conceive when he was home last Christmas (and we did!), and then praying again for him to be home on her due date (and he was!), that it wouldn't happen while he was here. How could it be?! But I know I should never set my expectations on something I don't control: God's timing. And to be honest, I hadn't spent the time worshiping or praying the previous month to even warrant presuming to know His will or timing for our family. I was too busy prepping for baby and getting to-do lists done to "bother" with that. I should know better.

That night, after a steak supper at Wayne's parents' place, we climbed into bed at 10 and I asked Wayne to pray because I knew that if I did, it would not be heartfelt or sincere. While that's no reason not to pray, he obliged with a simple prayer: "God, we're not messing around anymore. We want a baby by 8 am. Amen." Well, that plea, combined with my emotional breakdown relaxing my body to the point of submission, must have done the trick because two hours later, I woke up with contractions five minutes apart.

I can't believe how fast time passed during my contractions. I handled them on my own for about 2 hours, letting Wayne sleep until 2:30 am. I knew that if this was the real thing, and he was running on only 2 hours of sleep, he would be so tired. Four hours isn't great but it's better than two. :) I realize now that I must have had back labour the whole time because the only thing that would relieve my pain was squatting or leaning on the kitchen counter and swaying my hips. Lying down - or even sitting - was out of the question. And I noticed that my contractions didn't seem to start small, swell and then dissipate, like our Lamaze coach described. The closer together they became, the stronger they attacked, until they began to take me almost by surprise. Two nights prior, I'd woken with strong Braxton Hicks and had spent some time putting together a lunch kit full of snacks for us. It's a good thing because once we realized these were the real thing, the last thing I could do was concentrate on food.

We called Ina around 3 am and she advised me to take a hot shower to see how it affected the frequency and intensity of my contractions. I had about 5 strong contractions in there without any letup so I knew this was it. We called Ina back and she decided to come over and check me out. When she arrived, just after 5 am, my contractions were 4-5 minute apart, lasting a minute-and-a-half, and I was only 2 cms dilated. It didn't seem like much and for all the Baby Story I've watched, I knew the delivery could still be hours away. Little did I know what was coming!

At that point, I realized I was starving, but my contractions were so long and painful that I knew the only thing I could stand would be yogurt. Poor Wayne took the dog out and gas station-hopped until he could find yogurt at 5 am. Ina had me crouched/squatting beside the bed with the upper half of my body supported by pillows, lying face-down, because I refused to lie down. By this time, I wasn't really drinking enough fluids either because the contractions were attacking so strongly that I honestly thought I would vomit as each one began. It was then that I started to worry because I knew the drive to the hospital would be exhausting and excruciating, having to sit straight up in the passenger seat. But when I quickly reached 5 cms, Ina said we had to go, NOW. Danielle, who was on her way to our house, rerouted to the hospital and met us in the family birthing unit. But not until we detoured to drop off the dog at Wayne's parents' house at 5:30 am, mid-contraction. I had about 5 in the car and arched over the back of my seat when they happened. The longest break I had was about 3 mins. I didn't have another good break for an hour or so. We called my parents to let them know we were on the way to the hospital and after parking, had to squat in the parkade twice, and once in the lobby, with contractions. They were coming so fast.

We scored one of the three rooms at Surrey Memorial with a tub and promptly filled it, though I had doubts that it would alleviate my pain. And I was right, but at least being submersed gave me something to do: I doggy-paddled on my side (yes, I felt like a beached whale) through each contraction for the next 2.5 hours, while Danielle kept cold cloths on my neck and forehead and Wayne held my hand. Although I don't remember, Danielle says I didn't want to be touched, save for these two comforts. I needed the lights off and quiet in the room, something the nurse wasn't very good at. She seemed to be all business and she really annoyed me while I laboured (although she was very helpful afterward). I was given an IV of penicillin because I had tested positive for Group B Strep, but received only one dose instead of the recommended two, as labour progressed so quickly. The contractions were so painful and so intense that we didn't even think to call our parents to tell them how fast this was all happening. It was a good thing, too, because a labour that fast doesn't qualify for drugs, and my wails and groans could likely be heard for miles! I don't think my mum would have been able to stand it. I felt stupid at the time, but it even took too much energy to cry from the pain. I just wanted to die. Really. It would have been easier.

Finally, mid-contraction, a new sensation: the urge to push. It scared me halfway out of the tub at first, and my new vocalization prompted the midwife to ask if I felt like I needed to have a bowel movement. Silly me, I thought I'd have to get out of the tub just to go to the bathroom. Then it clicked: that was Heidi's head! Just when I had "mastered" breathing through my contractions, this new feeling threw me for a loop and things started happening very quickly, although I was so thankful to have something to "do," other than endure the pain of the contractions. Out of the tub I was and onto the bed on all fours, leaning on the back of the bed, which was raised. I was so scared and all I could say to Danielle and Wayne was, "Pray for me!" It finally occurred to me that I hadn't even thought of pain management, but when I asked Ina for the gas, she laughed at me and told me I didn't need it, that I was being such a trooper and would be meeting the baby in just a few minutes! I was too exhausted to argue, but really wasn't working with the contractions. This new sensation was scary and it finally hit me that I really had to do this, I really had to push her OUT. With each contraction, I screamed and panicked and really thought my body would just break in two. But the contractions subsided and Ina saw that I'd need gravity to help. So she ordered me onto the toilet.

Once there, I was resisting the urge to push - Ina was very hands-off, which I didn't really appreciate at the time. I didn't know what to do and her description of how to breathe was lost on me, so I finally had to bark at her that I didn't understand what she meant and to describe it a different way! That was the only time I lashed out at anyone (I think!). Danielle sat by my left foot on the floor and Ina at my right. Poor Wayne was stuck standing in the doorway to the bathroom. While my sense of time was quite compromised while I was pushing, it couldn't have been more than 10 or 15 minutes I spent in the bathroom. When Heidi finally crowned, and I had to pant through the next contraction, I thought she would fall into the toilet like on that show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant"! Haha. Ina assured me she would catch the baby. She asked me to reach down a feel Heidi's head, but I refused, knowing it would make me panic. On the final contraction, Ina had me stand up and out came Heidi with a GUSH of waters. It was the biggest relief I have ever felt, and she was on my lap, slippery and warm, right away. She gave an annoyed squawk, as if to say, "I've finally arrived! Why is it so cold out here?!" and I was in complete shock. I didn't know what to do. I just couldn't believe THAT was labour. That I'd just done it! It was all I could do to pick up my jaw off the floor and look at Wayne across the bathroom to make sure he was still there to witness this! Neither of us were particularly emotional, just amazed that it was done, and she was here! And that the pain really DOES disappear in an instant. I had to ask if I'd torn (yes, she came out with her fist up by her face - ouch) - I'd previously thought people who said, "You won't even notice if you tear," were lying. But it's true. The relief of that baby coming it far surpassed any pain of tearing.



Of course, Heidi was semi-sitting on my lap as we waited for the placenta to deliver and I couldn't see between her legs. While we'd known for four months that we were having a girl, you never know! So I had to ask Danielle, "Is it still a girl?" :) I was in my own little world for a while, just stunned. None of us wanted to cut the cord - it was too icky for Wayne and I didn't trust myself to do anything at that point, I was so shaky. So Ina cut it, wrapped her up and gave her to Wayne to hold, skin-to-skin. The next hour or so was a blur, as I was being stitched up (I opted for the gas at that time - woohoo!) and Wayne held his first-born daughter. She looked so tiny in his arms.



Because I had only received the one dose of penicillin during labour, there was a risk that Heidi could have a reaction to the Group B Strep, and so her temperature and other things needed to be monitored every 4 hours. If we opted to stay overnight at the hospital, it would be no problem, but if we wanted to go home, we'd be responsible for monitoring her progress. I wanted to stay, because I felt so unsure, but Wayne really wanted to spend our first night at home with the baby as a family, even though he had to be up at 5 am for his flight the next morning. So by 8:30 pm, we were heading home with our precious new bundle, finally a family of three.



Heidi's temperature stayed level all night and the next day and all was well. I was banished to the third floor of the house for three days to heal (too many stairs for the stitches) so I had my mom, Wayne's mom and Danielle taking shifts to stay overnight and bring food, etc. I would have been so lost without so many helpers - thank you, everyone!

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Heidi arrived with ginger hair and peachy cream skin, and she is the spitting image of her daddy. The older she gets, though, the more like me she looks. She is gaining weight rapidly and Dora has taken quite a licking (I mean liking) to her - haha. Heidi is the joy of my life and I cannot describe the love that comes with parenthood. I cannot wait for Wayne to join us at home and to experience all her cuteness and sweetness for himself next month.

17.9.09

::mini-update::

Wayne and I are delighted to welcome our daughter Heidi London Baxter into our little family! She arrived Saturday, September 12, at 9:20 am after three hours of active labour. Apparently, that is fast. I didn't realize that counting the hours of "labour" doesn't start until it's considered "active" labour, which, for me, began around 6:15 am. I thought my labour would have been considered to be 9 hours long, as my initial contractions began at 12:30 am.

Anyway, the purpose of this post is not to relay the entire birth story; I'm busy writing it out by hand in my journal as I nurse, and perhaps will one day post it for those of you who like reading that stuff (before I had kids, I always found them kinda weird, but as a new mom, I'm now totally interested!). But it is to say that we are all healthy and happy, and the best part was that Heidi arrived exactly 24 hours before Wayne was set to take off again for Gagetown, NB. I admit, I DID give God an earful on that issue, hmmm, about 7 hours before contractions started. I should know by now that coming to the end of myself is the only way God will work in my life. For three weeks, I was holding out for my "plan": to have Heidi while Wayne was here. But as Wayne's date of departure drew nearer, I toughened up, shut myself off from Him, and held out for God to do things MY way. Only when I broke down and was truly honest with myself, and Him, did I allow Him to take over.

And boy, did He ever!



More on all this later. Time at the computer (especially to type with two hands) is rarer now. For more frequent updates, check me out on Facebook. The time it takes to compose thoughts and spell them correctly on this blog may prove to be a little much for a while. At least with FB, I can think in stops and starts. But I will be trying to maintain my writing as best I can.

Cheers. And thank you for praying on our behalf. I know the Lord was listening.

2.9.09

::tick, tock::

Since being on maternity leave, I have discovered I am not too good at doing nothing. I don't really know how to relax at home. At home, there's always something to DO, like sweep or mop, wash dishes, make beds, walk the dog, cook or bake. The only times in my life I've really allowed myself to relax is on vacation, where my surroundings don't dictate my daily tasks (well they do, but the tasks include better things like drinking dirty gin martinis, swimming, and sunbathing!).

Today, Wayne is out with his buddy geocaching in Fleetwood Park. No problem, except we have only one car. Not that I have anywhere to be, but I suppose I'm so used to being on my own with the freedom to what I want, when I want, and it's usually structured by a schedule. I could walk to Starbucks, or go shave my legs, or have a nap, I suppose. But I'm a bit indecisive at the moment...grrrr. This is like PMS without the moodiness.

Any of you moms reading this are likely rolling your eyes and thinking, "Get OVER it! I would kill to be bored for 5 mins.!" And I know this will end as soon as baby arrives. I'm just in a funk, I think: done being pregnant and now just WAITING; overjoyed to have Wayne home but not used to waking up each day, together, with nothing in particular to do; being told by the midwife to relax and pamper myself (what does that MEAN when you have no money?!). I think I'd welcome some structure back into my routine. I don't miss work, but I do miss having a purpose each morning. It was such a delight to get up to take the dog to daycare at 8 am today, to have a deadline to get out of the house. But now, I'm looking at this screen and feeling a little lost. Weird...

I'll probably look back on this post in a week or two and laugh at how pathetic this sounds - "Tough life, Meg, being bored. You should have enjoyed it!" Maybe I will take that nap. At least time will seem to speed up.

22.8.09

::glitch::

Here's an annoying thing about Blogger: when I start a post and then finish it later, it posts itself in the order in which it would appear, as if I had finished and posted it the day I began writing it.

For example, I started this post on the 15th but just wrote it out today. Now it looks like I posted it on the 15th. What the heck is the point of that?! HOw does anyone know I wrote something new?

I guess from now on, I'll have to copy and paste drafted content into a "new post" every time I want to finish something I started previously.

Also, anyone know why you have to upload photos in the REVERSE order you want them to appear within a post? Do you photo bloggers use an external photo uploader or something to bypass this silly thing?

Boo.

::10 years on::

Last weekend, I happened to take Dora with me to downtown Langley, where (I had forgotten) Arts Alive was taking place. This annual event shuts down the one-way strip of Fraser Highway and it becomes a pedestrian-only area where local artists can display and sell their work. I was taking Dora to the Big Dog Little Dog Bakery for some marrow bones and training treats, but was surprised that I couldn't access the street by car. So we parked behind Fraser and walked into the crowds among the kiosks, which is always a good opportunity for her to test her heeling skills among the chaos of people and kids and strollers and wheelchairs, etc.

After buying what we needed at the bakery, we continued down the street to see what else was available and I eventually heard the sound of a jazz combo playing. We wandered over to the old Coast Capital Savings building and, lo' and behold, who was playing but my local jazz idols, Campbell Ryga (sax), Jodi Proznik (stand-up bass) and Brad Turner (trumpet)!



I was quite the band geek in high school and while I excelled more in my concert band ventures than my jazz band skills, I still prefer to watch/listen to jazz/big band. I played the trumpet and while I was no prodigy, our band did win some pretty prestigious awards and was invited to represent Canada at the 2000 World Exposition in Hanover, Germany. But I still remember the days of the Surrey Jazz Festival and the UBC Honour Bands, where we'd sit in awe of Brad Turner, et al., as they flawlessly, and effortlessly, created the sounds of pure genius with their ensembles. I remember doing a master class with Mr. Turner and being so nervous to play in front of him - I felt like the biggest fraud because I may have been good at hitting the high notes and reading what was on the page, but I was embarrassingly bad at improvising, which is a "must-have" skill as a jazz musician.

While Dora and I stood there and watched, Brad and Campbell were sitting out on one number, hanging at the rear of the open-air stage while the other members of the combo played a tune. Now, I may be 38 weeks pregnant and I know I looked haggard that day, having just planned to make the one stop at the bakery without putting any thought into my housewife-ish appearance. And it has been 10 years since I last "worked" with Brad Turner. But I'll be darned if, when I spotted the players and realized who I was watching, Brad didn't look straight at me and recognize that we had met before. I wasn't about to approach him to chat after their set because I looked so gross and sweaty (no makeup, you get the picture - I really just shouldn't have been seen in public that day!). But it was the coolest thing ever and it made me wonder what would have happened if I had pursued music education after high school instead of journalism? If I had chosen what I loved rather than what I was good at? Being recognized by someone so influential from that time in my life, who knew me only from that "scene," made me think about how different life can turn out based on one decision. Where would I be? Would I have even been able to learn the things he teaches now at Capilano College? I honestly don't know if I had enough talent. But it would be so cool to know.

That one glance we shared last weekend is probably a glance he shares with former "students" all the time - "I think I've taught that girl/guy," he must say to himself, as he goes on with his day. But it was much more meaningful to me. I am so grateful for the way my life has turned out - and I'd really have it no other way! But wouldn't it be neat to know if we had what it took? If we would have succeeded somewhere else? If I could have spent my early 20s playing in smokey cabarets in Paris and Zurich and Barcelona and Dusseldorf? If music would have become my life?

I guess I'll never know...

19.8.09

::happy anniversary, wayne::



Three years ago today was the best day of my life. We spent the morning preparing for our life's biggest commitment: to each other. We spent the afternoon in God's house, making vows to one another in front of friends and family to honour and respect one another until the Lord takes us home. We spent the evening celebrating our union and looking forward to the days, months and years ahead, trusting that God would guide us through the best times and the worst. I've never been so sure of anything in my life and I know I married a man who cares so deeply for me that I can rely on him for anything.



While I am a natural worry wart and I get slightly frantic if I can't see far enough into my future so I can prepare myself for what's next, our marriage Scripture helps me keep things in perspective: Luke 12:22-31.

22Then Jesus said to his disciples: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. 23Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. 24Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! 25Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[b]? 26Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
27"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 28If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! 29And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. 30For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.




Wayne, you've made me the happiest woman alive for the past three years, even if a third of them has been spent apart. God has been with us and has kept our connection strong. I can't wait to see what's in store in the years to come - all in due time, of course. ;)

Cheers, honey!