good times

Well, another Christmas is come and gone. *Sigh* It always goes too fast for me. There's all this build-up and anticipation and then *poof*! It's all over, just like that.

It was great, though. It was so much fun to have my entire family here for Christmas. We haven't all been together for Christmas in such a long time. It would be great if we could do this every other year or so, but I guess that's really dependent on work schedules and such now. Ah well, such is life.

I had an ultrasound on Wednesday to investigate the 'possible cyst' on my left ovary (as explained in this post). I was super nervous and anxiety-ridden because I had no interest in being back in a hospital, never mind having yet another stranger poke and prod me with things in places strangers shouldn't be. My sisters, Brenna and Breanne, tried to reassure me, but I just really didn't want to go.

As it turned out, I had a fantastic ultrasound technician this time around. She couldn't have been older than me, and she just talked me through everything and reassured me that my uterus looked completely normal and that cysts were completely normal and everything was completely normal. It's definitely a relief to know that there's nothing going on that I need to be concerned about.

Anyway, that's an update on that.

So, Vergil received two Dane Cook CD's from Tim this Christmas and then I bought him two Dane Cook videos this week. As a result, I have to confess that I have been swearing like a trucker all week. He uses quite a bit of profanity in his comedy routines, and yeah... not so good for the girl whose routines are all mucked and random and unusual. S'anyway, if you end up having a conversation with me and find that I'm swearing more than usual, that's why. It's Dane Cook's fault. The filthy son of a 'b'. :P

And that's about all that's new in my world. I hope everyone had a decent Christmas. New Year's is coming soon - I hope everyone's got their resolutions ready to break!

blasty blast

There are some people in this world who have a knack for coming up with catchy words and/or phrases that others latch onto and use until you begin to forget who it was that said them in the first place. Some examples are: Homer Simpson ("D'OH!"), Happy Gilmore ("Get in your hooommmeee!"), Russel Peters ("Somebody gonna get a hurt reaaalll bad."), Dane Cook ("Blasty blast. Banana Sangwich. Heeelllooooo...I'm a Caaarrrr...") and Kirk ("You're gonna diiieee!"). There are others, but it's still early and these guys are the only ones I can think of right now. Vergil's good for that too, only sometimes I think he's the guy that helps perpetuate the sayings of others rather than coming up with a lot of his own. I seem to be the one with my own private vocabulary of strange and unusual combinations of words (ask Vergil sometime about 'postage spaceage').

Anyway, that's totally not what I was gonna blog about today. Look at me getting all side-tracky and stuff. What I wanted to blog about was the fact that I get to see my family in a few days! How fun and exciting. My sisters, future brother-in-law and my parents are all flying in from Edmonton and we got to do all the Christmas tradition-y things that we are all so fond of. Christmas with my dad's side. Christmas with my mom's side. Christmas with just the 8 of us. Good, good times.

Even better times are that Michele, Linda and Yvonne are catering our Christmas with my mom's side. So very excited for that bit. If you have never had an opportunity to eat the food these women make, you should book them to cater your next event. Amazing stuff.

I think that's about all I had for today. I have three more projects left to mark and then they're all done. Then I get to edit and critique my professor's dissertation over my Christmas break. It's only 219 pages. It shouldn't take me that long. :P LOL

I don't know if I'll get a chance to blog again before Christmas, so here's my 'Merry Christmas' to all my blogging friends, and to all a 'Good Night!' :)

my life as a retail wife

That wasn't supposed to rhyme, I swear.

I hate Christmas. Well, okay, maybe that's not entirely accurate. I hate the commercial Christmas season. Is it because I hate busy malls? Yes, partly. Is it because I hate that Christmas has been stripped of its true meaning by blatant consumerism? Yes, partly. Is it because I don't get to see my husband for more than one evening a week for a whole month? YES, MOST DEFINITELY!

Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It just makes me *sigh exasperatedly*. I kid you not, there are few times of the year I look forward to more and less than December. All I would want for Christmas is for Vergil to not have to work Boxing Day. What a hellish invention. What money-grubbing, insensitive-to-families, capatilistic pig invented Boxing Day anyway? Bleh. Did you know that Vergil's store will sell over $30,000.00 of merchandise on that one day alone? Incredible. Granted, more than half of that will come back in returns in January, but still. The sheer number dumbfounds me.

Okay, before I get too carried away in my rant here, let me be clear. I want Vergil to have a job. He does really, really well in retail management and, in general, likes his job. It's just the craziness of the Christmas season and the mass hysteria it causes and the billions of dollars that are spent on total crap and the fact that I never get to see him that makes me want to scream.

But I won't. I don't want to wake the neighbours.

Maybe I shouldn't have picked this precise time to blog. I just finished marking three projects (about 6 hours worth of work) and I'm tired and not thinking really clearly. I had wanted to get four projects marked today, but my brain is getting very mushy and I'm afraid this last project will not get the attention it deserves if I try to mark it at this point.

I should go to bed or something. No, I'm gonna stay up and wait for Vergil to get home. Hopefully he doesn't get back too late... stupid Boxing Day preparation. Yes, that's right, they're getting ready for Boxing Day now already. And he's got to help two stores do it since the St. Vital store is sans manager right now. Bleh, bleh, bleh. I'm looking forward to January.

Man, it's a good thing Vergil's in retail and not me. I'd probably have been arrested for punching someone's lights out by now!

done

So it's official. My last class was last night. It was good. The students showed off the projects they'd been working on all semester and seemed very relieved to be done with them.

I am so proud of them. So, so proud. They poured their lives, sweat, tears and hearts into these projects and it definitely shows. One of my students is so preoccupied with her love of this project and wanting it to really reflect her heart that she asked me for another day to work on it. She was the only one, mind you. All the others met the deadline, even if they lost sleep to do it.

My friend Sheri kept telling me last week that she could tell which students were in my class - they all had this glazed-over, desperate look in their eyes. I felt bad for them, but I did warn them. I told them it would be a struggle. I told them it wouldn't be easy. I told them they'd probably hate me. But I also told them it would be rewarding in more ways than they could imagine. I think they'd all agree with that last point, too.

Although, some of them probably could have used huge, double shot espresso heroin coffee hell drinks to keep them going.

I feel...good about the whole experience. I still wish I could have been in a place to offer more of myself than I did in terms of teaching the class, but my interactions with the students were all quality. I felt we connected really well and I look forward to walking with them the rest of the way to their graduations next semester. Would I do it again? Absolutely. Without question.

My professor, Chris, and I have also been talking about an exciting summer project that we'd like to work on... I'll blog more about that when we get the idea more nailed down, though.

So yeah, overall, a really good experience. I'm looking forward to going over their final projects. I'm confident they all did really, really well. And it has very little to do with me in the end - I just gave them the tools and pointed them in a direction. The rest they did themselves.

Fun. I don't know. I think I could get into this teaching thing...

and then there was one

So I just got a call from my cousin...she's four months pregnant. *sigh* There are four of us cousins who all got married between 2004-2005 - and now three of them have or are having a baby. All but me.

I don't want to be sad about that, but yeah... it does make me feel more than a little sorry for myself.

I'm very much having what I'll call 'empty arm syndrome' today. Even at church, all I could think about was how empty my arms feel. I watch all these parents holding their kids and I can't help but think of how that was going to be me. I almost stole Abby from ccap and ccap's boy, just to stave off the feeling for a few minutes, but on second thought, I decided it would probably only make me feel worse.

Anyway, I'm depressing myself so I'm going to change the subject abruptly.

Vergil and I put up our Christmas tree and decorations today. Well, I did most of the putting up because Vergil was busy playing with and setting up my Christmas present to him - a new palm pilot/cell phone. I love Christmas decorations. There's something so comforting about them. It's like comfort food for my apartment. :)

Another 'bright side' is that I pretty much have all my Christmas shopping done. I wanted to wrap them tonight so I could put them under the tree, but I have to review my students' papers first.

Speaking of which, I really should stop procrastinating and work on those...

i've no fear of drowning

My title's from a Jars of Clay song, Work FYI. Corrie posted one of their songs the other week and, as we both seem to be obsessed (yes, I will use that word) with their current album, Good Monsters, I thought it apropos to use a lyric from it, since it kind of sums up how I feel this morning.

"I've no fear of drowning, it's the breathing that's taking all this work."

I was asked to lead the staff/faculty weekly prayer meeting this morning. I decided it would be a good time to share about my miscarriage. I talked about weakness and how God is present even in the darkness. About how his shoulders are big enough for all the grief in this world and how he is still worth praising.

It was well received and we had a good prayer meeting. It did leave me feeling very tired, however. Everytime I tell the story, it always seems to take so much out of me. All I want to do right now is go to bed and sleep.

One of the things people often say to me after I tell the story is, "How did you manage to keep coming to work and teaching your class?" The 'why' questions I can handle. The 'what' questions are easy. The 'who' and the 'where' are pretty self-explanatory. The 'how' gets me. How did I go on with a 'normal' life? I don't know 'how'. Is there a magic answer for that? What do people want me to say? I just did. I don't know what else I was supposed to do. My options seemed fairly simple to me: keep moving and go on with life or cut myself off from everything. Cutting myself off didn't seem like much of an option since I knew the world wouldn't stop or slow down to let me catch up.

It's not like I didn't give myself space. Vergil and I went off radar for about two weeks. I let go of feeling guilty over not being able to give as completely of myself to my class as I might have liked. I don't know. It's the one question I don't like because there doesn't seem to be a good answer for it.

Anyway. That's my rant or whatever. The breathing does seem to be taking more work today. But have no fear. God seems to have the 'how' well under control, even when I can't explain it.

nothing to say

(so why did I write so much?)

I'm sitting here watching the cursor blink blindly at me thinking I should probably write something, even just to write something because, well, what's the point of a blog if you don't keep it current, right?

That was quite the run-on sentence.

Anyway, I don't really have much to say. Life's been uneventful lately, which I should probably be grateful for. I was looking at some pictures yesterday and thinking how I now classify them as 'before' or 'after' and it kind of depressed me, so I decided not to think too hard about it. Weird how things suddenly change like that, though.

I only have three classes left before the end of the semester. Also weird. It all went so fast. My professor will be helping me to mark the student's big assignments, which is great, except for my (probably irrational) fear that he'll take one look at their work and say to me in a disappointed tone of voice, "What did you teach them?" That would suck. So much for my kick at the teaching can if that ends up being the case.

After talking to my friend Sheri this morning, I'm reminded how glad I am to not be planning a wedding anymore. What a pain in the butt. I don't know if she'll blog anything about it, but I'm sure she'd welcome any advice on how to stay sane when everyone feels as though they're somehow entitled to having their own way at her wedding. How do you deal with people like that when, in general, you really like them and you know that they're not trying to be malicious?

My advice: elope. Forget everyone and everything and just get the formalities over with. Don't get me wrong - I had a great time at my own wedding, but I was one of the fortunate ones who didn't have to deal with inconsiderate people.

Anyway, enough about that. That's not really my story to tell anyway.

Speaking of stories, thanks for all the suggestions! I'm in a bit of a rut with that one, but I will let you know if I'm suddenly inspired and write any more of it.

Okay, I'm going to go away now. Do some work or something. Wish me luck.

drawing a blank

I feel like I should post something today but I have nothing all that intelligent or interesting to say. I could...I don't know, write about how I was very tired and sore all week (and for those of you hoping for a positive reason for that, I'm sorry to disappoint), but that's not all that exciting and I'm tired of complaining all the time.

I could write about how I still hold the title of 'Spud Queen' at my church, but that might sound like boasting (besides, I owe my success to three other people who have sold more than I have individually).

I thought about posting a new story, but I haven't got very far with my most recent venture. Well, maybe I'll post the little bit I have written and hope that you, my blogging public, can give me some inspirations and ideas of where to go with it.

Here goes:

Untitled
© KdR

“I don’t have it.”

“What do you mean you don’t have it?”

“What do you think I mean? I don’t have it.”

“But you have to!”

“But I don’t.”

“Well, what are we gonna do?”

“Exactly what we would have done if we had it.”

“But we can’t. Not without it.”

“You’re not being very imaginative.”

“Imaginative? Are you kidding me? It’s impossible.”

“Impossible’s for cowards.” The red-head gave her friend a mischievous smile and raised her hand to knock on the imposing cherry-wood door.

“Wait,” her lanky companion said, grabbing her hand before it could connect with the wood. “What are we going to say?”

“Just follow my lead,” she said.

He groaned. “The last time you said that I ended up at the hospital with 12 stitches.”

“Twelve? I thought it was only three.”

“Three, twelve, whatever. I had to get stitches; that’s all that matters.”

Just as Ebony began to bring her fist down on the big door, it swung open to reveal a tiny old lady in a bright purple skirt-suit and violently red hat.

“Oh!” the woman jumped, startled at the sight of the two young people standing at her door.

“I’m sorry,” Baden quickly apologized. The woman looked way up at the young man who towered a good two feet above her.

“I’m Ebony and this is Baden,” Ebony smiled, interrupting her often-awkward-with-words friend before he could get started.

“Oh, hello, dear,” the little woman smiled back.

And that's all I've got. Ideas, please!

sunset

I'm sitting in my office, watching the sun set on the horizon. I like watching the sunset. I don't know how much I like watching it at 5:22 pm. So early! It's no wonder I feel so tired all the time lately. I never see the sun!

I'm still at work because I'm waiting for TYN to get here for a SMAC event. (Like all my acronyms? TYN is The Youth Network and SMAC is Something More About Christ, for those of you who may be wondering.) Anyway, I finally feel like I accomplished some things this week, so that makes me happy. My 'to do' list is slowly having items eliminated from it. New things are taking their place, of course, but at least some old stuff is finally out of the way.

I had thought of something clever to blog about earlier today, but I've forgot it all now. I'm glad it's Friday. I'm glad Vergil only had to be in Vancouver for two days and not five. I'm glad he's getting more opportunities to further his career (though I'm not so glad that it takes him away from home more often). ...What else am I glad for? I'm glad I got so much of 'professional' writing done today (it was at the expense of my carpal tunnel flaring up, but hey, it's worth it, right?). I'm glad my family is coming to Winnipeg for Christmas. I'm glad I get to hang out with the TYNers tonight.

It's a pretty glad day overall. I just wish my back would stop hurting so much and I wouldn't feel so bloody tired all the time. Man, I hope I'm not getting sick.

annoyed

My biggest pet peeve about my job is when people imply (sometimes intentionally, sometimes not) that I don't know what I'm doing or I'm not on top of things. I pride myself in getting necessary information onto our site quickly and efficiently - usually within in the day, depending on the nature of the request. Almost everyone has had to work with me in some manner or another, so I know for a fact that just about everyone is aware of the pace at which I work.

Anyway, someone unintentionally made this implication this morning and it's kind of set me off for the whole day. On top of that, our Network Administrator came into my office this morning and wanted to know if he could start translating our site over to this new architecture he's got for us. If he were to do this, it would mean I wouldn't be able to do any 'urgent' web work for at least a week. It would also mean I'd be spending all my time cleaning up pages to make sure they translated well into the new architecture and fixing broken links and making sure all the navigation still worked. I just don't have time for that right now. There is too much other stuff going on.

Anyway, I'm left feeling rushed and chaotic and annoyed at everything. I hate that. At least I did all my class prep last night instead of putting it off for today.

Okay, big deep breaths. I should go for a walk or something. Maybe that would help. I have to do a bunch of photocopying - that might calm me down a little... unless the photocopier breaks.

Is it really only Monday?

my head hurts

No reason why, really. Just one of those days. I hate weeks like this. I feel like I have so much to do and I do so much, but don't get anything done. If you can figure that out, you're further ahead than I am!

I like having lots to do at work. Unfortunately, right now I have lots of writing to do for work. I have three articles that need doing for our upcoming school paper. I have one of the interviews done already, I just need to write the thing and...I can't. You'd think a writer wouldn't have trouble writing, but for some reason, I find it really hard to focus on journalistic stuff. Writing is never as fun for me when it's work.

I need to finish preparing for my class. I've got most of one lecture hammered out, but I need to combine a few lectures together for the sake of the big assignment my students are working on. I can hardly believe there are only 5 weeks left till school is over for the semester. Weird.

I need to finish compiling my professor's dissertation. One of those tedious jobs that I was hired for because he doesn't want to do it. Trouble is, I've been very bad in my procrastination of that particular job. Procrastination can be such a slippery slope for me - put something off once, twice, and then it gets so hard to finally come back to and get done.

And that's all for me for now. Just felt like I should post something. No, the truth is I'm using this blog to help me procrastinate. Terrible, huh? Sometimes I hope that by writing something that's more fun, it'll encourage me to do the work writing...

I think I can. I think I can.

...an aside

For those of you interested in reading more of my fiction, here's the beginnings of another story I'm writing: One Misstep. Enjoy.

ekklesia

I didn't go to church yesterday morning because Vergil wasn't feeling well and I wasn't sure I was up to going by myself yet. I did, however, go to Ekklesia, an alt-worship service held once a month at my church. I've never been before, but man, was it just want I needed. Talk about a spiritual bath...that was definitely it.

Anyway, I did some train-of-thought writing while I was there and figured, what the heck, I'll share it here. I don't know to what end it will serve, but I don't really care so much. Enjoy it for what it's worth.

---

Everything feels different, strange. My ears don't hear like they usually do. My eyes can't see the way they're supposed to. I feel like the matter of me is expanding and spreading and becoming part of the air - part of the building itself. I wanna push at the walls, see if they stretch and expand. I feel like they could be made of rubber, elastic - flexing and changing with every note, every prayer.

I wanna speak but I've not been given the words. You have to go! Do what's on your heart. You stand there, like me, up to your ankles in the water. Afraid to dive in. Afraid to let go. Let's go. Let's go. Let's swim.

Wide awake - everything strung tighter than a guitar string. Waiting...for what? Move, God, move! I'm running and running, trying to keep up. I'm tired. Go on without me. But don't leave me behind! Come back and tell me what you've seen.

Lord, come. Fill this place. Pour out your Spirit like water. Light the fire. But don't break me. Don't bruise me. Don't snuff me out.

I can't speak. I don't know where I am. I'm here but not here. Elsewhere. Huge warrior angels are keeping everything out. This is holy ground.

I can't feel a thing. Nothing. No chills. No comfort. No grief. Daddy, am I fine? Am I okay? The tears still come, one at a time, but nothing more.

I wasn't in the line of fire. I was safe at the command post - directing, consulting, safe from direct fire. Yet here I am, in the infirmary nonetheless. I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't expecting a direct hit like this. How long will I be here? Will I still be of use? Don't discharge me. I want to still hear you. I want to be your voice. I want to bring comfort and direction. I still have friends on the front lines - I can't leave them!

Don's angel is huge. Dark skin, bulging muscles, battle-scarred but undaunted, silvery wings spread wide, sword at the ready, eyes turned to heaven, deep voice echoing Don's praises back to God.

Now I feel it. The power and weight of your presence. It lays thick and heavy on me. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

different

I know the purpose of this blog is about my and Vergil's journey toward parenthood, but I wrote a short story this morning and I feel like sharing it here, so that's what I'm going to do. Because it's my blog and I'll write what I want to. :P

This story was inspired by our school's student-produced magazine, the Pamphleteer. Their next theme is supposed to be about modesty and, for whatever reason, this little 'one-shot' came to me. Enjoy.

Different
A short story by Krista dela Rosa

I can’t really explain how it happened. It was supposed to be a normal evening for me. Work the 8 to close and go home, hopefully alone, hopefully with my pockets full of tips.

I didn’t really think much of him when I saw him in my section of the restaurant. Just a normal guy, really; not overly attractive, but not ugly, either. I headed over to his table with my usual chipper smile to find out whether he was single.

Maybe that’s a strange thing to say, but that’s what you do when you’re a waitress with a body like mine. The ones who are single tip well, but the ones who are with someone tip even better. It never fails. It’s like they’re desperate to know that someone other than their wife or girlfriend finds them attractive.

Needless to say, I’m a bit of a cynic when it comes to guys. They haven’t exactly proven themselves worthy of my praise. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I think I’m all that and a bag of chips. It’s just that I am well aware of my ‘measurements’ and their apparent effect on those of the opposite gender. I’m also well aware of my ability to exploit this particular trait, but even still. I’ve gone out in sweats and a sweatshirt and still had to deal with leers and cat-calls.

This guy, however…there was definitely something strange about him.

“What can I get you today?” I asked after the usual pleasantries.

“Just a coffee for now, thanks,” he said, looking me straight in the eye and giving me what seemed like a genuine smile.

I have to admit I was suspicious. I know the way guys are supposed to react to me and this was not it. Right off the hop, this wasn’t it.

At first I thought that maybe he was gay, but as the night wore on, I became convinced that he wasn’t. Even still, he was not treating me the way I am used to being treated by guys.

“Can I ask you something?” I finally said after returning to his table to clear his dishes.

“Sure.”

“There’s something different about you and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.”

He chuckled. “Something different about me?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” I hesitated. This was sounding ridiculous. There was no way to tell him without sounding either completely crazy or aggressively arrogant. “Never mind,” I tried to dismiss the whole thing all together.

“No, wait,” he said. “I’m curious now.”

I scrutinized him carefully, trying to decide his level of sincerity. “You’re not behaving the way you’re supposed to around me,” I said, watching to gauge his reaction.

“What, you mean I’m not salivating every time you’re near and hoping that your breasts will talk back to me?”

I had to laugh at that. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.”

He just shrugged. “I think you’re worth a little more than that.”

Now I was really intrigued. “You do? Why?”

“Well,” he ventured, this time watching my reaction. “I’m a Christian.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Hmm. Not like any Christian I’ve ever met.”

He winced. “Uh oh.”

“You want me to tell you about the Christians I’ve met or would you rather I didn’t?”

“No, tell me. I can’t speak for them, but I can hopefully tell you why I’m different.”

“Fair enough.” I paused, trying to decide if he really wanted to hear this or not, then deciding I didn’t really care. “The Christian guys are some of the worst that come in here,” I told him.

“In what way?” he wanted to know.

“In all ways. They’re either completely undressing me with their eyes or condemning me from the get go. If you’re not the pure Virgin Mary, you’re the evil temptress, Eve, intent on their moral destruction.”

“I see.”

“I don’t understand it. Non-Christian guys seem more able to accept the fact that they’re sexual beings who have certain thoughts and desires. Christian guys seem to think that they’re supposed to be exempt from those thoughts and feelings and can get very upset with me when they’re all of a sudden having them.”

“You do dress rather provocatively,” he pointed out.

I gave him a wry smile. “Of course I do. My sexuality is what pays my rent every month.”

“Then don’t you have something of a double standard?” he wanted to know.

“Look, that’s not my point. I know how I dress. I am very aware of my affect on guys and if I really didn’t want them to notice me, I would do everything in my power to make sure they didn’t. My point is this – I’ll accept responsibility for my part of all this, if you’ll accept yours.”

“Explain.”

“Stop making your choices my fault.”

He furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“These ‘Christian’ guys that come in here and get so mad at me for making them realize their own sexuality keep coming back. Week after week, they’re here, content to gawk and lust after me and then they go home secure in the knowledge that they can blame me for seducing them. If lust is such a big issue for them, why would they continue to put themselves in a situation that brings that out of them?”

“Good point,” he mused. “What about the guys who condemn you?”

“They do one of two things. They either pull the holier-than-thou act, or they try to convince me that Jesus can give me the self-confidence I’m lacking so that I don’t have to dress the way I do to get attention or work in a place like this.”

“What do you say when they try to do that?”

“I tell them that I’m very self-confident, thank you very much, and I like where I work.”

“Do they usually come back?”

“No. But that kind of bothers me, too. If they really wanted to ‘convert’ me, they’d put more work into it.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“I’m just… I’m tired of never having it right.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said sincerely. “What about the non-Christian guys, if you don’t mind my asking. What are they like?”

I shrugged. “They seem to understand that I’m manipulating them when they come here. They know I dress the way I do so that they will part with more of their money. They know I’m only concerned with being eye candy, and they appreciate me accordingly.”

“So you don’t mind just being an object?” he wanted to know.

“I don’t know. I’m just kind of used to it. It’s comfortable, somehow. I know my role and I know theirs.”

“Can I ask if you have a boyfriend?”

I laughed. “No. I gave up on relationships a long time ago. Like you said earlier, I have set myself up in something of a double standard, and it can be really hard to reconcile that in a relationship.”

“Knowing you’re being viewed as an object and attracting a guy as such only to want him to appreciate you as more once you’re in the relationship,” he summed up for me.

“Exactly.”

“Seems like a tough way to go through life,” he observed.

“What else is there? Sex is power, my friend. In truth, it’s the only real power women have. Men are the CEOs, men make more money at the same jobs, men are the politicians and decision makers. Men dictate our lives to a large extent. The only time a woman has complete and utter power over a guy is when he’s under the spell of her sex.”

“Is that why so many young girls dress like strippers?” he wondered.

“Absolutely. Watch any music video and you can instantly tell who’s in charge. It’s not the guys who rail on about being pimps and players. Oh, no. It’s the women in those videos, flaunting their sexuality for all they’re worth. Those ‘pimps’ and ‘players’ are nothing more than putty in their hands.”

“So the fact that our society is so over-sexed is really nothing more than a power struggle between men and women?”

“I think so,” I grinned. “But what I do know? I’m pretty, but I’m not that bright.”

“Who told you that?”

“My parents, every guy who salivates when I’m around and hopes my breasts will talk back. Heck, even other women.”

“Well, I would disagree with those people.”

There was a pause in our conversation. “You still haven’t answered my question,” I told him.

He smiled. “I guess I haven’t.”

“What makes you different?” I prodded.

He looked at me thoughtfully for a minute. “I have a friend who used to spend a lot of time around ‘sinners’. Prostitutes. Liars. Manipulators. Thieves. He actually preferred hanging around those kinds of people. They were more… honest about themselves somehow. He had little use for people who claimed to be religious but didn’t prove it by the way they treated their fellow human beings.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” I quipped.

He grinned. “I think you would’ve liked him. He would get into it all the time with the ‘holier-than-thou’ types. They’d give him all of these scenarios, like if everything is God’s, why should we pay taxes? He kept throwing them off, though. He never answered their questions the way they’d expect.”

“What did he say about the taxes thing?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Who does it say this belongs to?” he asked.

I glanced it over. “The Bank of Canada.”

“Give the government what’s theirs and give God what’s God’s.”

“Oh, vague and pointed all at the same time. I love it.”

He nodded. “Exactly. As you can probably imagine, these religious types never warmed up to my friend. They kept coming up with sneakier and sneakier ways to try to trick him into saying something that wasn’t true. Finally, they did something really extreme. They broke into the house of a man and woman in the middle of committing adultery.”

“How did they..?” I wondered aloud, already feeling angry over this story.

“I have no idea. I don’t know if they set it up or if they stalked the couple or if she was a hooker or what. All I know is they drag this poor woman, still naked, in front of my friend and tell him what she’d done.”

“They’re completely insane!”

“Oh, yeah. And it gets worse. At the time, adultery was a punishable offense and these guys were so mad, they wanted to condemn the poor woman to death. They demanded that my friend pronounce her punishment.”

“What did he do?” I asked, completely enthralled.

“Nothing. He told them that if any of them had never done anything bad in their lives, they were free to carry out the punishment against the woman.”

“And?” I prompted.

“And they all walked away. My friend finally looks up after everyone leaves and says to the woman, ‘Didn’t anyone stick around to condemn you?’ ‘No,’ she says, still completely in shock, I’m sure.”

“What did he say then?”

“He looks at her and says, ‘Then I don’t condemn you, either.’”

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“My friend didn’t see people as somehow better than other people because of their gender, their status or even their sins. He saw them as equally broken and in need of God’s love. He also knew that they’re all equally worthy of being loved because God deemed them worthy. I just try to see people through those same eyes. You’re no better or worse to me because you’re a woman or because you dress provocatively. You’re a human, just like me, trying to make your way through the world. God loves you just as you are, so why shouldn’t I?”

“You really believe that?” I asked.

“I do. I don’t always do a good job of showing it, but I do believe it.”

I thought about what he’d said for a minute. “But what about the sin thing? I mean, it just seems like Christians are so hung up on these lists of things not to do.”

“Yeah, sometimes we are. But when it comes right down to it, there are only two things that are required of us as Christians: Love God and love people. The funny thing about love is that it really does change your behaviour. If you love someone, you want to do things that make them happy.”

“Now, see, that makes sense to me.”

“So have I answered your question?”

I grinned. “You have. And then some.”

“Do you want me to finish converting you?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

I laughed. “That’d be great – only I have to finish up here first.”

He flipped his bill over and wrote his name and phone number on it. “Here’s my info, but since I am a guy and you are very attractive and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, would it be okay if I introduced you to some other people who think like me?”

“That would be very cool. Thank you.”

With that, he said good bye and made his way out of my restaurant.

I’ve never been the same since.

hibernation

Many of the blogs I read this morning were about the snow that fell last night. Snow brings out the bear in me. All I want to do is crawl under my covers and stay there until the weather warms up.

I'm amazed I actually made it to work this morning. I taught my class last night and came home in some of the worst weather I've ever driven in. I couldn't see anything beyond my headlights and I couldn't use my high-beams because they just reflected off the snow and blinded me. What is usually a half-hour commute turned into an hour-long drive, since I was only able to go about 60km/h. I thought I might be spending my night in the ditch since the times I could see the road, it was covered in a layer of ice. My neck still hurts from driving like a grandma. Vergil was practically waiting by the door with his coat on when I came home - anticipating having to rescue me from the clutches of an unintentional hibernation. Fortunately, I made it home in one piece. Doubly fortunate was that I was not today's carpool driver. I got to be a passenger and let someone else worry about navigating the tricky roads.

*sigh* Winter would be great if I never had to drive.

john mayer

I've been listening to the new John Mayer album, Continuum, pretty much incessantly lately. Two songs keep standing out to me, so I thought I'd share them here. The first song, The Heart of Life reminds me that yeah, life sucks sometimes, but at its heart, you can still find goodness there.

The Heart of Life
I hate to see you cry
Laying there in that position
There's things you need to hear
So turn off your tears and listen

Pain throws you heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won't all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good

You know it's nothing new
Bad news never had good timing
But then the circle of your friends
Will defend the silver lining

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won't all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
Fear is a friend who's misunderstood
But I know the heart of life is good

I know it's good

The second song is kind of how I feel in and around this whole process. Appropriately, it's called In Repair.

In Repair
Too many shadows in my room
Too many hours in this midnight
Too many corners in my mind
So much to do to set my heart right

Oh, it's taking so long
I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh, but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair

Stood on the corner for a while
To wait for the wind to blow down on me
Hoping it takes with it my old ways
And brings some brand new luck upon me

Oh, it's taking so long
I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh, but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair

And now I'm walking in a park
All of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me

Oh, it's taking so long
I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh, but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
Oh, I'm never really ready, I'm never really ready
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there

anxiety at the edges

I hate these vague, anxious moments I sometimes get. It's an edginess that makes me feel on pins and needles for no apparent reason whatsoever. It usually passes, but I just hate being in it. Feels like my heart is racing nervously and I can't calm it down.

Maybe if I drink some tea or something...

Anyway, that's all I really wanted to say, I guess. My week got much better after my last post. I think cramming my week-without-Vergil full of people who care about me was a good thing. I got to debrief with my dad, eat Jon's awesome cooking (I paid him back by making his and Sheri's cat a new toy - a giant ball of yarn) and converse with Tim, Linda and Wes. I even got to see my psuedo-niece, Maddison, who I think gets cuter and cuter every time I see her. She's my good-karma-baby.

What's a good-karma-baby? It's a baby that was born after much trial and tribulation (i.e. after years of trying and/or after miscarriage). I've decided that instead of avoiding all the babies out there, I will rejoice over the good-karma-babies and, at the very least, not avoid them in the hopes that they will bring me good karma.

Saturday, Vergil and I went to a surprise engagement dinner/party for Sheri and Jon and I held another good-karma-baby, Jane. She's 4 months old and has the best stunned expression I've ever seen. And until she went to bed, Vergil was, for once, NOT the centre of attention. :)

This week, I get to teach my class, clean my apartment, hang out with my Oma and Opa, clean my apartment some more, and then have my mom over for the weekend. Good times.

the opposite of happy

I know this blog has been more than a bit depressing lately. I'd apologize for that, but the whole reason this blog is here is to process all that has gone on with Vergil and I surrounding pregnancy and the loss thereof.

Here's the latest update in that vein. Sunday and Monday were probably the worst days I've had since my D&C back in September. As it turns out, I'm PMSing, but I honestly don't think I've ever had a bout quite like this before. I ended up having to leave church abruptly on Sunday morning about 3/4 of the way through the service because I just could not hold it together. I also ended up bowing out of my class last night because I wasn't doing much better. I have never felt depressed like that before. Intense, apathetic anger that overwhelmed me to the point of not being able to function.

I guess some of it had to do with the fact that my cousin Natalie had her baby on Saturday. I'm happy for her, I really am, but the fact that I'm not having one when I thought I would be hit me pretty hard.

Some of it had to do with the topic at church on Sunday. They're moving towards generating a more intentional small group ministry and I started to freak out a little. As I explained to Michele, I am unable to separate church and leadership in my mind and when a new vision gets going, I feel obligated to be supportive and on-board. My 'church baggage' prevents that in this circumstance . My baggage dictates that small group = obligation and that means giving more of myself than I usually receive. I just feel like I have nothing left to give at this time in my life. I function in a 'ministry' role in most of my other occupations, both at work and in the class I teach, and I really have come to see Sunday morning services as a time when I can step out of my 'ministry clothes' and into a good spiritual bath. It's hard showing up to find out that the tub is being cleaned. For those of you who read my blog and attend my church, please don't take my reaction personally. Michele was kind enough to let me rant and vent my frustrations and then gently and wisely calmed me down and reminded me that I am under no obligation whatsoever to the church leadership or this initiative. I continue to be free and welcome to find sanctuary in whatever way that works best for me.

What a great church.

I guess the third thing that's been really hard is that Vergil went to Regina yesterday to train a new manager there. I brought him to the airport on Monday for 6:30 am and he doesn't come home until Friday at 8:00 pm. So I'm all by my lonesome for five days. Well, not really by my lonesome. Last night was really my only night on my own, and that was of my own choosing. I could have stayed at work to teach my class in the evening, but somehow, I just don't feel comfortable being that vulnerable with my students yet. "Hey guys, let's talk about discipleship while I continue to sob for the rest of the evening." The professor I'm filling in for, Chris, was really great. He let me cry in his office for a while and assured me that there was no reason for me to feel any kind of guilt for not being able to teach. In fact, he had just been kind of waiting for me to need to back off. He's told me that if I ever need him to step in for an evening, to just let him know.

Anyway, tonight I get to see my dad who's in town on business. Tomorrow, I'm hanging out with my friend Sheri and her fiance, Jonathan. (Jonathan's cooking me supper and that makes me very happy.) Thursday, I'm getting together with Tim and then Friday Vergil comes home, so yeah. I've got lots of people to keep me company.

And that's me for now. I hate this inevitable loss of control of my emotions. I have high expectations of being able to 'keep it together' and when I can't, I often don't know what to do with myself. I guess I worry that I'll slip into excessive self-pity or bitterness. But then I remember that it's only been a month. I'm allowed to feel weird, off, sad, angry, etc., etc.

And yes, I will let people know what I need if I need anything.

I was pregnant once

It occurred to me today that I was pregnant once.

Hardly seems real anymore. Seems like everything that happened was a lifetime ago. But it's only been a little over a month.

I feel a little numb about it all. Everything's 'back to normal' as it were and those three months of my life when I was pregnant have become an anomaly. Did they really happen? Or was I just dreaming?

Hmm.

Curious.

(Note: Please don't freak out over my ramblings and observations. I can come across as more dramatic than I really am. I do not need saving/comforting/helping. I just need a place to let my mind wander sometimes.)

the deeper you go...

...the more shallow you want to be.

It's interesting to me the things Vergil and I have been kind of obsessed with over the last little while. For instance: we've taken a keen interest in doing 'Fill-it-in' puzzle books. We've finished three books so far and we're working on our fourth. We also play 'Lego Star Wars 2' (awesome game) on the X-Box just about every chance we get. And when we're not playing that, Vergil's playing his football/hockey/baskeball games. What else is there? I've been doing a lot more reading lately. And not reading for the class I'm teaching, either, but novels. I've wanted to write more, too, but I haven't had any good plot lines yet, so that hasn't really happened.

It's interesting how we seem to so desperately need to keep our minds and hands busy with 'shallow' things. TV doesn't seem to be enough - it doesn't engage enough parts of us to really hold our focus for very long.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think this is bad. I think all these things are temporary coping mechanisms to help us compartmentalize and to continue to have normal lives so that we don't get swept away in negativity. It's just interesting...

demons on the doorstep

Those of you who know me know that I have no trouble reflecting on myself and my inner thoughts and workings. People tell me that I'm very self-aware, and I suppose that I am, but I'm never sure whether that's a good thing or not. Some days it feels like both a blessing and a curse.

Anyway, I wanted to preface this blog with that explanation before I got started.

I've been thinking a lot lately. Not that I don't think a lot all the time, but I guess since I have had nothing else to do during this whole thing, I feel like I've been thinking a lot more than usual lately.

I've discovered that I don't much like being alone these days. I'm okay if I'm alone in a room, but only if there are other people nearby that I can access quickly. I find it hard when I'm home alone for any length of time. It's not impossible and I don't freak out or anything, it's just weird. Times like these, it can be really scary to be left alone with ones thoughts for any length of time.

One of the things I was thinking about last week Saturday (my first full day alone in over two weeks) was that I suddenly feel as though I have entered a very different plane of existence. I have never experienced personal grief before. I have never lost anyone close to me before. I have no precedence for what happened to us. It's like suddenly I exist in a place where darkness is very, very real. Like all of a sudden, the forcefield that protected me from other people's grief was shot down, leaving me exposed and naked to the night.

It's like now there's this presence in my life, this dark, ugly, menacing...thing that is so evil and overconfident, it had the balls not only to rob me in broad daylight, but also to then turn around and mock me for it. It sits there, just out of my reach, smiling cruelly and asking me, "What now, Child of Eve? Where is your God now? Why would he let me come in so easily to rob you? Why would he abandon you so completely that even the saftey of your womb was not enough? Why even bother? He doesn't care. He doesn't care at all."

It would be so easy to let the rage take over. To run into the darkness and let the fear and anger consume me. It would be so easy to fly to that demon in blinding rage, intent on beating it to death.

But when I try to move, I find I can't. I'm held back by something strong and sure and calming and I realize that even though I'm facing the darkness, God is holding me tightly against him. He hasn't left me. He hasn't abandoned me. He's doing exactly what I want him to be doing - holding me and not letting go.

At one point while I was in the hospital a few weeks ago, waiting for my surgery, I sent Vergil away for a few hours so he could have some space to calm down and not kill anybody while we waited. During that time, I remember praying. Well, it wasn't praying so much as just crying in front of God. I remember feeling like all of a sudden, a huge, heavy blanket covered me. And then it felt like God was talking to me. I distinctly remember hearing, "This did not happen to punish you." I started sobbing. I so much wanted to blame myself. It would be so easy.

The other thing I remember hearing was, "Not all pain is for punishment and not all pain is bad. Sometimes pain is healing. Think of the people in this hospital. Some of them have to go through intense pain just so they can get better." I don't know what this means for me. What do I need healing from? I'm still not sure. But I remember hearing this and I'm holding on to it until I understand.

It's always so strange to me how forcefully God descends upon my life when I feel at my weakest. Paul's revelation from God that "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:9), sometimes feels like a cliche to me. But it has always been true. Sometimes I think that the trouble with God making me strong is that I need these extreme lessons to understand what his strength really is.

Vergil and I are moving forward. We've had two normal weeks so far, and survived them both. I've finally stopped bleeding. I have to go for another ultrasound in December to check out the 'possible' cyst on my left ovary, but my doctor doesn't seem overly concerned about it, so I'm not, either. I have learned that my miscarriage was, for all intents and purposes, a 'normal' one. My doctor explained it to me like this and it has made the most sense to me so far: When the egg and sperm join, your body and the embryo begin to form the placenta together. Your body is responsible for the hormones and the development of the placenta until about 10 or 11 weeks. At that time, the fetus takes over. My embryo never developed into a fetus, so at 11 weeks, when my body was ready to give over hormone development, there was nothing there to give that responsibility to. And that's why I miscarried. I'm not sure why, but knowing what happened brings me closure and makes me feel like I can move on.

Last weekend, I bought a pair of teardrop aquamarine earrings so that I could have something to remember baby dela Rosa by. Aquamarine is the birthstone for March, by the by. I also bought a special vase with aquamarine glass pieces and a candle in it for our apartment. Vergil has a blue "power band" for his wrist that reminds him of what we've been through. We never had a chance to touch or hold our child, we had nothing to bury, so we needed these memorials to help give us closure.

Thanks again to everyone for being so supportive and understanding. It's been a blessing to have so many people care about us like this.

the last two weeks

So I thought I would post everything that's gone on in the last two weeks regarding my miscarriage. The beginning bit might sound a little clinical and emotionless, but I'll get to how we're dealing with this emotionally later.

I started bleeding on Sept. 5th. I was panicking (of course), so I called my dr’s office and they told me that it could be nothing, but to keep an eye on it. If I started bleeding more heavily, if it turned dark red or if I started cramping, I ought to go to the hospital. By the end of the day, I was still bleeding and feeling like this just wasn't right. I didn't want to go to the hospital unless I absolutely had to, so I called the public health nurse and she told me that because I was experiencing some cramping, I should go to emergency. I waited for Vergil to come home and that’s what we did.

We waited for about 4 hours before taking me in and then we waited another 2 before someone was able to examine me. In the meantime, they gave me a shot of WinRho and took some blood for tests. When the doctor finally had a chance to examine me, he determined that my cervix was still closed, which was a good thing, but that they would send me for an ultrasound the next day. I went in for the ultrasound the next afternoon and that’s when I found out that I had miscarried. The doctor came in and handed me a box of tissues and I knew. I didn't like the guy very much. He wouldn't stop talking. All I wanted to do was go home and call Vergil and he wouldn't shut up.

All the doctor could tell me at the time was that I had been pregnant at one time, but that the baby had stopped growing at some point. I don't know when that point was.

Anyway, Vergil and I went to Hamilton the next day for his cousin’s wedding and I spent the Thursday and Friday in quite a bit of pain while I started passing. I know what you're thinking - how could you go away and be at a wedding after all of that? We just...did. All I knew was that I needed to be with Vergil.

We got back from Hamilton on the Sunday and I saw my own Doctor on the Monday only to find out that she had been on vacation as well and didn't really know what was going on with me either. All she knew was that the ultrasound doctor was rather unclear as to what my results were. She said that it might have been a molar pregnancy, which is essentially when there are too many chromosomes and tissue just grows out of control in the uterus. She said that if this was the case, then I needed a D&C to clear out the tissue because it can continue to grow if left alone. This is obviously not a good thing.

So, I went to the hospital the next day at 7:00 am only to wait for 12 ½ hours for them to actually take me in for the surgery. The surgery itself took all of 15 minutes. It was a long, long day. I had a chance to speak to the obstetrician for about 2 seconds before I went under and she told me that it definitely wasn’t a molar pregnancy, so that was good. However, she also said, “Did anyone talk to you about having a small cyst on one of your ovaries?” I said no, and she told me not to worry, it wasn’t serious. And that was all I found out. Nice, huh? :(

Vergil and I spent the rest of the week at my uncle’s cabin, which was really nice. It’s a little weird to be around people again. We find it kind of difficult to have to relive it with every person we talk to who hasn’t seen us in the last two weeks. Vergil and I are feeling like we're starting to move on, but they haven’t so we have to backtrack for their sakes. That's not to say we don't want to talk to people, it's just a little tough to have to go through all the emotions over and over.

So anyway, I will hopefully find out more about my ultrasound results next week Monday. From there, well, I guess from there we just move forward and try again.

Thank you to everyone for your prayers, support, encouragement and love. It all means so much to us. And don't worry, if we think of anything you can do to help, we'll let you know. It's hard to know what to ask for when you don't really know what to do yourself.

And so the quest begins anew...

very sad

This is kind of a shitty way to let those of you who read this blog know, but Vergil and I just found out today that I've miscarried. Don't know why - don't really know anything, really.

Thank you for all of your encouragement and support. We're going to be away for a while, so there may not be any point in trying to contact us for a few weeks.

Here's a link with more information about miscarriages, for those of you interested: Miscarriages

looking forward to mat leave

I like my job. I like the place where I work... typically. Lately, it's been awfully stressful. We've gone through some 'restructuring' which has caused a lot of turmoil. Not so much for me personally - my job is not affected really at all - but many of my coworkers and friends are not having a good time of all this. Planning, organization and especially communication have been seriously lacking and it's just making everyone feel not only anxious and unsettled, but disrespected too.

My chiropractor yelled at me the other day because he could tell that I'd been stressed out. He said stress was not good for the baby. So I'm trying very hard not to be stressed. It's not really working, but I am trying. I'm looking forward to our trip to Hamilton for Richie's wedding next weekend, as well as my and Vergil's vacation to the cabin for five days.

And right now, I'm going to watch America's Funniest Home Videos because I need a good laugh. I love this show! Hopefully they'll have funny babies. Those are my favorite. I sure hope I have a funny baby!

maddison rose and more pics of my belly

No, this is not our baby. It's too white. :) LOL This is Maddison Rose Loize. Dave and Janine graciously agreed to let us post a picture of her. But how could we not? She is terribly, terribly cute! And such a good baby, too. She sleeps really well, she feeds really well, and she hardly cried while we were there, in spite of the fact that we were passing her around for the hour we were there.

It might have been a bad idea to bring Vergil there so soon after Janine's surgery, though. He always makes her laugh so hard, and that's not necessarily a good thing when your gut is already split. That was Dave's joke, not mine. Don't groan too loudly now! Anyway, all things considered, everyone is doing really well. And all the waiting and all 30 hours of labour were worth it. We just can't get over how cute this little thing is. She doesn't look like a newborn, though, does she? She's only two days old in this picture, if you can believe that!

Okay, and here's a new picture of my belly. This is me at 11 weeks. My puking finally seems to have relaxed. My gag reflex is not nearly as touchy as it used to be. That's a very good thing. I was able to eat some raw broccoli today at lunch, which is something I've avoided for the last few weeks. I'll tell you this much, thank goodness for prenatal vitamins. It's so hard to eat right when you're afraid of food. I just hope I'm not jinxing this run of good days by saying it seems like it's done.

What else is new? Not too much. Vergil and I were at my uncle's cabin this weekend and decided that we definitely need a longer stay there. Vergil worked on his golf game all weekend (we have special rubber golf balls that he can whack around without breaking anything) and I basically hung in the hammock by the dock and read. It was great.

And that's all from the dela Rosa household. Stay tuned for more! :)

ooo, look!

Look, I found a countdown thing-y for our blog! How fun is that? Now everyone will know how far along I am at any point in time. That's very cool. Many thanks to my friend and co-worker, Sara, for finding that for me.

On a very, very, very happy and exciting note, my best friend Janine just had her baby! I am so excited!!! Maddison Rose Lozie was born yesterday, Wednesday, August 16 (a week overdue) at 9:36pm by C-section at St. Boniface Hospital after 30 hours of labour. She has a full head of brown hair and weighed in at 10lbs, 14oz! Now that's a big baby! Both mom and baby are doing great. Vergil and I are going to go see them tomorrow before we go to the cabin. Maddison is my first unofficial neice and I can't wait to meet her!

Janine called me at 11:30 last night, just as Vergil and I were falling asleep. I knew right away it was her because I've been waiting for this call for a week! Anyway, despite having just been through surgery, Janine sounded great - though she did make the comment that she was going to need a whole lot of painkillers in the near future. So yeah... needless to say I had a hard time falling asleep again after that. :)

Vergil asked me if it made me excited to have our baby. I wasn't sure. I don't know how keen I am on 30 hours of labour and an almost 11lbs baby! I'm pretty sure ours won't get to that size, but still... I was mostly super excited last night because Maddison has been 5 years in coming. Janine and Dave had such a hard time even concieving in the first place that Madison is really just a miracle baby in my opinion. I'm so happy for them. Now their family is complete!

Did I mention that I can't wait to see her? :D

on a more practical note...

I think I have as much of my 'pre-planning' in place at this point. I've signed up for my pre-natal yoga (which I'm very excited about), we're registered for prenatal classes and I got a call back from a midwife yesterday. I meet with her next week August to assess if we're right for each other, I guess.

I don't know if I've explained on this blog my reasons for wanting a midwife. See, my family doctor doesn't deliver babies. If she did, I would probably just stick with her for the entirity of my pregnancy. She told me my choices were an obstetrician or a midwife. The thing with an obstetrician is that you only meet them a month before you deliver and you're not guaranteed to have the same person on the actual day of delivery. I figure if I'm going to be in that vulnerable a position, I want to actually get to know the person who'll be staring back at me, and not just have someone waltz in, catch the baby and leave again. A midwife does all of your prenatal care, is there for the delivery and follows up with you for six weeks after the baby is born. That's appealing to me.

So yeah, that's all I wanted to say today - just give a quick update as to some of the more practical aspects of being pregnant. Fun, fun!

stop watching the news

I don't know how many people know this about me, but I strongly dislike watching and/or reading the news. There are many reasons for this:

First, I find it depressing. 98% of all news (especially lately) is bad.

Second, I don't trust the people who report the news. Before you accuse me of being judgemental, let me explain. I spent two years of my life learning how to be one of those people, so I know how they work. Did you know that most reporters go into an interview with their story already written? (Apparently male reporters are particularly more guilty of this than female reporters.) That means the interviewee is not really able to accurately tell his or her side of the story because the reporter will only take the quotes that fit the already written story. All news is biased, I don't care what anyone says. The trouble is that most viewers/readers are too lazy to be critical of what's fed them and just blindly swallow whatever the media feeds them. Not only that, but there just isn't the time and/or space in most media outlets to REALLY cover a story adequately. All we get are soundbites and snippets, hardly enough to qualify as a 'both-sides-of-the-story-objective-report'.

Anyway, enough ranting. This is essentially all to say that every once in a while, when I do watch the news, I have to wonder at the world I'm going to be bringing our baby into. What are we thinking? Everything seems to be going to hell in a handbasket and I'm going to drop this child right into the middle of it. I have no idea what I'll be 'leaving behind' for him or her. Will the economy crash? Will the war in the Middle East make its way to North America? Will he or she have the same kinds of creature comforts and emotional/physical safety that I've enjoyed?

I know, I know, I'm a total killjoy. I just... I can't help but think about the big picture sometimes. I think I'll just keep my resolve to not watch the news and trust that Christ will come back before me or my children have to experience the worst of what people can do to each other.

On a lighter note, I've discovered one thing that I've begun to 'crave'. I don't know if I like that word because it's not like I can't live without it, it's just something I seem to particularly enjoy right now. Earl Gray Tea. Weird, huh? Not Orange Pekoe, not even my Rooibos, which I bought specifically to help with my 'Folkers stomach'. Very strange. Maybe my kid will end up with an English accent. Wouldn't that be hilarious!

While I'm on the topic of cravings, can I just say that it's really weird that Vergil is having crazier cravings than me? One day last week, all he could think about was coffee. This weekend, it was Star Apples. It's so strange. My cousin Alesha tells me that it's quite normal for dads to gain weight, have cravings and feel nauseated while their wives are pregnant. I guess Verge is gonna be one of those dads! LOL

bunnykins rock!

Opa and Oma stopped by my work earlier this week and gave us a place setting for the baby. The girls at work saw it and promply gave a unanimous "AAAAAWWWW, that's so cute!".

Kinda rubbed me the wrong way cause I wanted Krista to see Opa and Oma's gift first. I know that wouldn't be possible because I've got a bunch of "nosy rosies" working for me.

Back to the gift...It's bunnykins; made from melamine (indestructible plastic); came with a plate, bowl, and cup. It's Royal Daulton (very chi chi). It's wicked awesome!

While I'm talking about gifts, I would be remiss if I failed to mention the totally awesome gift from Auntie Sheri and Uncle Chad when we were in Edmonton. The gift consisted of booties, a little jumper, and a stuffed giraffe (super cute).

Auntie Alesha and Uncle Matt gave the baby a bambi outfit (not the scandalous bambi outfit!!), receiving blankets, little gloves/mittens, and a book of baby names. Krista and I decided that our baby will pick out it's own name from said book.

Thanks everyone!!!!!

we'll need how many diapers?

so, I was at Costco today with my dad and my brother. Just for the heck of it, my brother and I decided to go to the baby diapers aisle and see the myriad of choices available for baby bottoms. After much giggling between my brother and I, we decided to focus on the task at hand.

Okay...which ones will we need first? Newborns, 0 - 7 months, up to 30 lbs...what to do!!! We couldn't really figure it out, so we decided to ask someone who'd know, our dad. He promptly replied, "You guys wore cloth diapers...I don't know"

I didn't even know how many diapers a baby is going to go through per day. This is Costco, so they've got boxes of 228 diapers. That's a lot isn't it? Shouldn't it last us a year? At least till the kid can write? Apparently, my father thinks that all our baby is going to do is pee and poop in between sleeping and eating. So he estimates 10 - 12 diapers a day! A DAY! How can a helpless little thing consume so much?

If my math is correct, and I know it's better than Krista's, we'll need to go to Costco once a month for diapers because a whole box will only last us 22.8 days (we'll shoot for 10 changes a day).

That's a lot of poop and/or pee.....

weirdness abounds

Yes, weirdness does abound, and not just because I'm a weird person or because I physically feel extraordinarily weird. It's not even because my dreams have become increasingly vivid and strange (i.e. why wouldn't Vergil get on the bus with me? I had a bus ticket for him and everything.).

The weirdness comes in thinking about how dramatically my and Vergil's life is going to change. I am going to be off of work for a whole year. I have never not worked for that long since Grade 9 or 10. That's... oh lordy, that's 12 years ago. I know I'll still be 'working' but let's not split hairs here because that's not my point. For the first time in many years, I will not be going to a job or to school. Weird.

Sometimes if I think too hard, I wonder why I would want to inflict this kind of change on me and Vergil. I like our life. I like being able to go for a walk on a whim or go out for supper or hang out with friends without having to think too hard about it. Why would I want to change that?

But then I also think, I'm just about ready for a change. I have been doing this particular job at Prov for a year already. One more year and I'll be so anxious for something different I won't know what to do with myself. I remember telling my dad once that I did not anticipate being in a job for more than two years at a time. So far, that's held true. Prov is the one organization that's been able to keep me for more than two years, but I'll tell you this much - if I hadn't switched jobs last year, I might not have stayed.

So yeah. Weird. It's all just new and different and I don't know at all what to expect. It's one thing to be a kid, quite another to have one. I hope my and Vergil's parents don't mind if we completely plagarize their parenting styles!

I've figured it out!

I've figured out why I don't like telling people that I'm pregnant. It's like telling them that Vergil and I had sex and that, quite frankly, is none of their business!

another picture

I still don't like pictures of me. :( Oh well, what am I gonna do? I suppose I could not post these pictures, but... yeah. I promised I would, so I will. I don't know if I look much different from the last picture, but I still think it'll be cool to see all the pics side by side in the end to watch the transformation.

Hmm, update... I had four good days last week. Yesterday broke my streak and I had a hard time keeping anything down. I finally managed to eat something around 8:30 pm.

Smells are starting to become much more...noticable? I guess that's the right term. Not that they bother me more necessarily, I am just more aware of my sense of smell these days. Strangely, I find the kitchen the hardest place in my apartment to be in. Well, maybe that's not strange. There's a lot of smells in the kitchen. The garbage, the fridge, the dishwasher... Yeah, it's not good. This morning before my first prenatal visit I decided to be really ambitious. I cleaned the dishes and took out the trash. I should've stopped with the dishes. The trash did me in. Fortunately, I hadn't had breakfast yet, so I was still able to eat that after the fact.

My prenatal visit went well. I had already had my bloodwork done, so all that was left was an overview of my and Vergil's family medical histories, a quick physical and that was about it. I didn't have really any questions this time around. I was still feeling kinda bleh from my 'episode' earlier, so I don't know how much I 'engaged' in the appointment. Next time I'm there we'll be able to hear the baby's heartbeat. How cool is that? I'm excited for that appointment. So yeah, stay tuned and check back after September 11 for that fun story.

I finally told my boss at work that I was pregnant. He was disappointed because he doesn't want to lose me. I fully plan on going back to work (don't ask me in what capacity yet, I haven't decided), but still, that's a whole year he has to fill. I have an idea of someone I would like to take my position for that time, but I still have to find out how interested he might be. I think my boss was at least relieved that I had thought about someone to replace me. The thing that sucks is that this time of year is always a little stressful in our department. We just hired a new graphic designer, but he doesn't start until August 21. So my boss will have to train him quick so they can keep up with the fall demand on the publications department. Then throw in having to think about me being away... Anyway, it'll all work out in the end, I'm sure.

Um, what else can I say? I don't know. I'm about done for today. I'm going to finish my supper now.

I ripped my butt....

We just got back from baseball and since the team was short players, I was forced to submit to the team's request for Krista to play (don't get mad at me...I don't want her to play at all). Jo, an awesome pitcher on our team, reassured me that Krista can play without hurting the baby.

Forgive me for erring on the safe side, but it is our first child. I just want to make sure that everything goes well with the baby. The only thing I hope our child doesn't get is my temper. Don't get me wrong, I love tempura, but we're talking about my temper.

For example, today at the game...after ripping my butt (that's another story), I let my emotions get the better of me. And as Krista informs me, the team feeds off my energy or lack thereof. There was just this tall, stupid giant on the opposing team and as he was running to second base, I tagged him but he yanked my arm out of the socket...there was blood everywhere, it was kind of gross.

Now who's got a case of the dramatics......

Instead of decking him like I should have, I let the murderous rage rise...not good. Need to get rid of this particular trait before the baby comes. Maybe not get rid of it, but manage it a lot better.

Now for the butt ripping....I don't know how I did it, but I'm convinced there's a huge rip in/on my butt. For those of you who are extra curious, it's the right butt cheek (now I'm lop-sided). My butt hurts and my arm hurts...horrible.

wish i could throw up for my wife

It was my day off today. I was able to sleep in a little bit this morning, but I had to get up when Krista got up.

I wish I could just throw up for her. She hates throwing up and it makes her feel all funny and weird.

This is the second morning in as many days that she's had to throw up before going to work. Somebody should invent a 'puking' stick that allows pregnant women to just poke anyone with this mystical device and make them puke. But alas such a thing does not exist.

Besides, it this device was to fall into the wrong hands...yuck!

sick of being sick

Man, I don't know about this. I had three good days this weekend and today I've puked twice in two hours. I'm very tired of this already. A girl at church who's also pregnant says she got better after about 12 weeks. Goodie. Four more weeks to go.

Of course, then I hear stories of women who are sick through their entire pregnancy. That would be very discouraging.

On a completely unrelated note, I got to speak at Volleyball Camp here at Providence last night. It was a lot of fun to get in front of a bunch of youth again. I'm really gonna miss my youth group in the fall. I know I'll still get my 'fix' with the class I'm teaching, but there's definitely something about the 'hyper-puppy' energy of teenagers that I just love.

Also, thanks to everyone who's posted a comment on this blog. Your encouragement really helps me get over some of my silly mental blocks about being a parent and whatnot. I'm glad everyone thinks Verge and I will make good parents. I know he'll be an awesome dad, but I still question my own ability to be a mom more often than I probably should. I like to joke that I'm already saving for my kid's counselling. With any luck the money can go towards their counselling degree instead of actual therapy. :) Honestly, though, don't take me too seriously. I have a bad case of the 'dramatics' - just ask my husband!

Okay, I shall away to try to do more work and not puke anymore today. Wish me luck.

this is me...and I look like a man

I hate pictures of myself. Even pictures that don't show my face. :P Anyway, this is a picture of my belly as of the end of 7 weeks. Doesn't look like much yet, but I'm sure it will get much more impressive.

I tried to get Vergil to post this, but he felt it was too much work so he's making me. Oh well. (Now he's giving me 'the look'...)

Anyway, re: my nausea... yeah, not much has changed. The last two days we haven't liked to eat supper very much. Actually, yesterday I puked during supper and today it was right before. You know, normally, I find randomness to be quite humourous, but not so much in this case. *sigh* I'm looking forward to this particular phase being over.

We told 'the big news' to some of our church friends yesterday evening. We agreed to be on a slo-pitch team this summer and, well, I ran out of excuses as to why I can't play anymore so we had to tell them. They were all very excited, so that was cool.

Days like that I feel like EVERYONE has just been waiting and holding their breath for us to have a kid. Man, our kid had better be something special because there have been a lot of people waiting for it! LOL Makes me feel a little less important and more like a baby factory, but that's probably just the hormones talking.

I'm glad my hormones have not made my emotions wildly out of control (yet). Apart from making me puke all the time, I'm not having angry episodes or sobbing at commercials or anything like that.

And that's all I have to say for tonight. I hope I don't bore everyone with my puking stories. Just say so if I do.

July 24, 2006

So I’m going to put this journal on-line today for the friends and family who we’ve told so far. I’d still like to wait till late August/early September to tell people at work, but it looks like I might not be able to avoid telling my baseball team this week… I’ve run out of excuses as to why I can’t be there anymore!

Our vacation went really well. My family’s reaction was awesome, as I expected it to be. Vergil almost lost it because I wouldn’t let him say anything until the Sunday evening when everyone was there for supper. It worked out for the best in my opinion, though. Then everyone found out at the same time and no one was left out.

My mom went a little crazy and bought me a whack-load of maternity clothes, which was awesome. She and Breanne and Vergil were very gushy and excited while I tried on the clothes. I'm not used to being fussed over so much. That's the one thing that will definitely take some getting used to - being fussed over. Very odd.

Anyway, I'm glad everyone is excited about the baby. I cried a little when we left Edmonton because this is really one of the times in my life when I really want my family to be a lot closer than they are. Alas and alack, that is not the way the chips have fallen, as it were. I know I'll see them a lot, but it's not the same as being able to just pop over whenever I want.

Unfortunately, the ‘morning’ (aka afternoon/evening/night) sickness has finally taken hold of me in earnest. I’m not puking every day, but at least every other day. I had an incident at IKEA, one at my parents, one on the way back to Winnipeg and I just puked here at work. I don’t know how well my plan to keep this a secret is going to go if I’m hurling every other day. The dumb thing is that it hits me completely randomly. One day it was a ham and cheese sandwich, one day it was flossing my teeth, then driving, and today…well today it just hit me all by itself, two hours after I’ve eaten and an hour after I’d got out of the car from driving to work. *Sigh* I don’t know what to do with myself. At least this morning it was only orange juice and cereal. Still. Gross.

What else can I say? I don’t know. I can’t think. Puking kinda takes a bit out of me… more than just food anyway. I really should do some work, since it’s all piled up for a week now. Joy and bliss. Stay tuned for more ramblings and hopefully the first picture of my not-yet-showing belly.

July 14, 2006

So I fear I may have spoken too soon re: the no nausea thing. The last couple of days I haven’t felt nauseated so much as like I could barf if I really wanted to. My gag reflex was really sensitive and yesterday especially I was finding it hard to even eat. Brushing my teeth has become something I don’t look forward to at all. And this morning, it happened. I puked. There was nothing in my stomach at the time, so it was more like dry-heaving, but there you have it. My first bout of morning sickness. I actually felt a little pleased. An actual, recognizable symptom! I know, it’s kind of silly for me to be excited about that, but I have this desperate need to feel normal during this experience. I want to feel the way most women feel while they’re pregnant.

So yeah, I’m doing what people have told me to do when you get this way – eating soda crackers. Apparently they help absorb the excess acid in your stomach. I’m really hoping that it doesn’t get any worse than this, because I have a 14 hour road trip ahead of me tomorrow!

Okay, I just ate a bunch of crackers and I have to say, they really do help. I don’t feel completely better yet, but better than before. I just hope this feeling doesn’t last all day because… yeah. Gross.

Anyway, I do actually have a little work to do today, so that should keep me nice and distracted from any feelings of grossness. Only two days left before I get to tell my family! Yay!

July 11, 2006

Well, I have less than a week to go before I get to tell my family about all this. I know they’ll be really excited, so that will be fun. I talked to my mom on Sunday and it was really hard not to just tell her. It’s funny; not telling people things has never been hard for me. Gets so that not telling people is just as easy (if not easier) than telling them.

I have to say I feel pretty blessed re: the whole beginning of my pregnancy and the more or less lack of symptoms. I feel icky now and again, but I’m not puking or anything like that, so yeah. Although my gag reflexes were kicking in a little at lunch today. I was very careful to control it, though, because as far as I can tell, no one suspects anything at work yet. I’m still dreading telling my boss – I know he’s not going to be too keen about the whole thing. He just got back from vacation and doesn’t really want to be here yet, so yeah, now would not be a great time to tell him.

You know, it’s funny (and I know I’ve been using the words ‘funny’ and ‘weird’ a lot in this journal, but I’m having trouble finding adequate vocabulary to explain what’s going on in my mind and body right now), but this really doesn’t feel real yet. I know I’ve said that before, but I was thinking about it this morning – all this is a fleeting thought in my mind right now. Part of me is freaking out and the other part of me feels… nothing.

I was also thinking this morning about something my mother-in-law told me when we broke the news to her. She said I didn’t have a lot of early pregnancy symptoms because I had a good attitude. I thought that was very optimistic of her. I didn’t think my attitude was very good at all, actually. But then it occurred to me that maybe I didn’t start out with a good attitude, but I certainly can have a good attitude about it from here on in. I kind of resolved in myself this morning to be positive about all this – even the times when I feel crappy. Well, maybe not even to be positive, but to stop thinking so much. And in some ways, I have. This is happening. There’s nothing I can do about it. Well, there is, but there is nothing I am willing to do about it. This is just another phase in my life. Yes, it’s all overwhelming and scary, but there’s nothing I can do about any of my fear or overwhelmed-ness until the baby actually gets here. For the next nine months, all I have to really think about is taking care of me and loving my husband. So really, not a whole lot has changed. Except the having to think about me bit. I’m not real used to that. I typically think about other people first and then about me, or more precisely, how my thinking about other people is affecting me.

Anyway, I only have three and a half days of work left until my vacation. Less than that – three days and two and a half hours.

Speaking of work, our Human Resources lady just came in and gave me a T-shirt because apparently people are quite happy with my work. How nice is that? I think it’s pretty nice. I’d have preferred a raise, mind you, but hey, I’ll take the T-shirt too. I wonder what they’d do if I protested the abuse of my boss by going on strike… Hmm, that’s an amusing thought.

Okay, I’m thirsty so I’m on a hunt for some water. I want to put my A/C on, but it’s too hot outside for my circuit-mate and I to both have our A/C’s on at the same time. We always end up blowing it. Very frustrating, especially because my computer shuts off and his doesn’t.

Right. Water. Ta.

July 6, 2004

Well, I had my first official doctor’s visit yesterday. They confirmed my pregnancy, which was kinda nice in the sense that now I know I’m not just imagining things. I guess I needed that confirmation. Also, I was able to ask my doctor all of my ‘burning’ questions, which really took a lot off my mind. I know the things I should and shouldn’t do and I can better plan for things like my sister’s wedding. I need to get my blood work done, but apparently I’m supposed to have a high-carb meal and come in exactly two hours after my last bite. Weird. I need to figure out when I can do that. I’d like to get it done before my next appointment in August and possibly before we leave for Edmonton.

My doctor figures I’m about 4 weeks already, which seems about two weeks further along than I figured I was. Oh well, she gave me the same due date as I had figured out, so that’s good. My sister ought to be pleased with that – the baby’s due the day after her birthday!

I now need to find out more about mid-wives and if I am able to do a water birth here in Winnipeg or not. I’m hoping mid-wives are covered by Manitoba health. If they are, I think I’d almost prefer to go with one of them just because they spend a little more time with you and I think they even do some follow up after the baby is born. Also, re: the water birth, I just can’t help but think I’d be way more comfortable and less self-conscious. I know that’s weird and kind of vain and I probably won’t care by the time I’m supposed to deliver, but yeah. I’m all about being as comfortable as I can possibly make myself.

July 4, 2006

Day two. I feel bad because Vergil doesn’t think I’m excited or happy about this. I am, I just don’t feel it yet. All I feel is strangeness; like this is something happening to me and not something I’m a part of yet. I guess it’s because he wanted this so bad and I’m still working my way there.

Part of me wants to tell more people, just to make it more real to me, but I know that’s not wise. I haven’t even seen or talked to my doctor yet and so much can happen in three months.

Maybe it’s the hormones that have taken over, but I am having a really hard time getting into this. I feel so detached and I feel really bad about that. I keep waiting for something akin to excitement to hit me and it just won’t. I really hope I don’t spend my entire pregnancy like this. Then again, I remember feeling detached about my wedding too, but I had a great time on the actual day and I’m loving my marriage, so yeah… Maybe it’ll be the same with this.

Anyway, that’s really all for today. Nothing new or exciting to report. My baby’s not even the size of a raspberry yet. Weird. It’s all just weird.

July 3, 2006

Well, it’s happened. I’m pregnant. It’s weird – I had myself so convinced that it would take longer than this. I was sure of it, in fact. Thought the odds were stacked against me somehow. I guess not. I’ve only been off the pill for a few months and boom. Just like that.

I thought I might feel differently about this when it actually happened. Actually, I had no idea how I would feel, but I did think that my feelings would somehow change. I feel like I’m supposed to be more excited than this. Truth be told, I’m terrified. I’m nervous. I’m anxious. I don’t really know what to do with myself. I’m having trouble living in the right now. Instead, I’m envisioning what it will be like to be pregnant in three, six, nine months from now. What will labour be like? What will my family’s reaction be? Will I be able to MC at my sister’s wedding? Will my child be healthy? Will he or she grow up to be a happy, healthy person? Will I do a good job as a parent? Will I be able to still have a career? Will I love my child? Will he or she not feel like a stranger to me? Will my child love me? Will Vergil and I still have a great relationship in the midst of parenting?

I remember telling my life coach a few weeks ago that I am perfectly comfortable not knowing what’s going on in the future if there is nothing there to think about. But when I am anticipating something happening in the future, I have a hard time letting worries about that go. This is a huge, uncertain, uncontrollable future for me and that terrifies me. This is one of those cases where I want to fast forward to the end to make sure everything turned out okay so that I can relax more in the process. (If you’ve ever watched a suspense movie with me, you’ll know what I’m talking about.)

I’m not a process person. I feel bad for my kid already. It’s funny; I always tell people that my sister Brenna hates change in her life. It occurs to me that I hate change a lot too. Only I hate change that I can’t control. I can’t control this. I could control going off the pill and that was it. Nothing else. Maybe this is why I’ve been thinking so much about the work God does in people and how we can’t do that work for him. We can’t change people’s hearts. We can’t save people from themselves. God does that. We just create the environment for change. Maybe that’s all my role is in this case too. My job is to create a healthy, positive, comfortable, safe, emotionally secure environment for my child and trust God to do the rest. I think I can do that.

I’ve been telling Vergil over the last day that I’m scared about all this. He keeps saying, “We’ll be fine.” I don’t care about fine. I care about being normal. I worry that I’m a horrible person for being afraid; that it makes me unfit to be a mother somehow. I know that’s excessive and dramatic, but there you have it.

Physically, I feel really…strange. Normal but not. I feel kind of gross and sickly off and on throughout the morning. I’m not puking, which is awesome, but I certainly don’t feel the best. In the evenings, the grossness comes back a little and then I get sort of restless. My mom said being pregnant made you feel happy. I don’t feel particularly happy at the moment, but maybe that happens later on. I just feel nervous. My poor kid is going to have anxiety problems. I think I’m definitely going to take prenatal yoga in the fall. They run it on Sunday afternoons and I think that will help me a lot, even if it’s just helping me learn how to catch my breath. I know the city runs ‘Mommy and Me’ yoga program too. I’ll probably take that later on with the baby, even just to be around other mothers.

Just thinking of my nervousness, I think there are two issues that are predominantly causing it. One is that I signed a contract to teach a course for one hour a week in the winter. I don’t see that happening anymore. I need to speak with my professor and the acting dean to find out what we should do about that. Also, my boss is not going to be impressed with me going on mat leave. He wanted me to wait a few years. Well, that’s not happening. I’m kind of hoping that he is able to hire someone for the Publications Assistant position before I tell him about being pregnant. That would cushion the blow a little. I’m already praying hard about that. I have an idea in mind for who I want to replace me in March, but we’ll see if that pans out at all. I’m also worried about how exactly I’m going to work out coming back to work after my mat leave. I’m hoping I can work something out so that I can do a lot of work from home. I have a computer that can handle what I do and I don’t feel like I need to be on campus all the time to do web stuff or even to do my writing. We’ll see, I guess. That can be worked out much later, like in 2008.

The other big worry is the fact that Verge and I don’t have a house. I’m mostly worried that our neighbours might complain about having a crying baby living around them. I don’t want to get evicted. The trouble is that Verge and I can’t really afford a house for another two years. By then we’ll have a good chunk of a down payment, but I don’t know what house prices are going to look like by then.

So many things that I think about that I really have no control over. I’m such a worry wart. I guess I’m mostly praying that I can live in the moment and worry only about the things that I can take care of now and leave the rest to God.

This is definitely the next big blow to my independent nature, I know that for sure. I remember thinking not too long ago about how I have always been so afraid of what God has in store for me and the things he wants to do in me and through me. I started to wonder if those things were not actually in store for me but for my child; that I am merely called to be a conduit and a catalyst for someone else who will change the world. The more I think about it, the more I see that my calling is definitely reshaping itself in that way. I will never be a Billy Graham or someone like him. I’m the person that brought Billy Graham to Christ in the first place, the person that helped train him and who helped him recognize his calling. It’s a fascinating thought and one I’m going to have to explore a lot more, I think.

I’m going to try to keep this journal of my thoughts and feelings re: being pregnant as up-to-date as possible. I’ll probably publish it on-line once I ‘go public’ with the news. It’ll be interesting to me to see how I am changed throughout this process.

I’m still nervous, but there is definitely excitement hiding somewhere in there too!