Everyday You've Got To Open Your Eyes

It kind of figures that the day you have to ask your doctor if you're leaking amniotic fluid or if you've just peed yourself, is the day that your regular doctor is away and Dr. Beautiful is her replacement.

My water? Remains unbroken. So. That was fun.

(Also? Dr. Beautiful is suddenly less pretty in my eyes after he compared Willie's head to a bowling ball.)

You Know Our Hearts Beat Time Out Very Slowly

I am a bear. A giant, lumbering bear. I grumble. I grunt. I swat at anyone foolish enough to get in my way. I plow through my day with a snarl ready on my lips. Shawn and Stella have learned to steer clear of my volatility but Wolfgang, sweet Wolfgang, is not the brightest pup. He follows me around from room to room, waiting for me to sit down so he can jump up and perch his tiny little puppy bum on my Willie-bump. He covers my face in kisses and makes tiny little grunty noises when I scratch behind his ears just so. He's driving me insane and keeping me sane (well, as sane as I can be) at the same time.


In an effort to feel less like a bear and more like a glowy pregnant lady (ha! am so not a glowy pregnant lady!) I made an appointment with a photographer friend of a friend to have some maternity photos done. Which is one of those glowy pregnant lady things I said I'd never do. Not that there's anything wrong with maternity photos, I just never thought they were something I'd consider doing. I have friends who have had them done and the photos are gorgeous and my friends look like beautiful earth mamas wrapped in flowy scarves and translucent fabric and I appreciate the beauty of the photographs while knowing that it's just ... not me. At the same time, I was tired of feeling like a giant, lumbering bear. I wanted to remember this pregnancy for more than just extreme mood swings and a horrible aversion to toothpaste (which is now back, in full force, after a lovely months-long break.)

I'm so happy with the photos. It's all about perspective. I feel large and heavy and slow but when I look at the photos I see a beautiful, healthy baby bump. Less bear-like, more glowy.

(all photos by the lovely Alanna Dyani)
(mustache teething toy by little alouette)

Pills Enough To Make Me Feel Ill Cash Enough To Make Me Well Take Me Take Me To The Riot

We skipped the hospital tour to watch the Stanley Cup final last night.

The Canucks lost.

The good news? The name Stanley is 100% off the table.

The bad news? The city lost its damn mind.

It's difficult to describe how disappointed I am. Not about the game - the Canucks had an amazing season and losing the final doesn't take away from that - but about the absolute stupidity of a handful of people. Vancouver is an amazing city but today we look like fools.

She Likes Hockey And Summers By The Lake

image credit

The Vancouver Canucks are playing in the Stanley Cup Finals. They've won three games to Boston's two. The Canucks have never won a Stanley Cup. The last time they made it to the finals was in 1994. If they win tonight, they win the cup. Tonight's game is kind of a big deal is what I'm saying.

If the Canucks lose tonight, the series will go to game 7 (and my head will melt.) If necessary, game 7 will be played on Wednesday. Wednesday is also the night of our hospital tour. The hospital tour that is impossible to reschedule. So can we all think happy, winning thoughts for the Canucks tonight? Because I am 99% sure that I will chose hockey over the hospital tour if forced to chose and I am 100% sure that I will feel like an asshole for doing so.

Take A Little Time Walk A Little Line Got The Balance Right

My obstetrician belongs to a practice of eight doctors. My initial plan was to book my appointments on varying days of the week so that by the time Willie was born, I would know all of the doctors. Instead, I was so comfortable with the Monday doctor (she is seriously rad) that I've ended up booking every appointment with her. Which is a bit silly, I know. There is a very good chance that Willie will not be born on a Monday and I will end up with a stranger all up in my junk (though I'm pretty sure that having a stranger all up in my junk is going to be the least of my worries when I'm actually in labour.)

Anyway.

Yesterday I was having some pain. Not the usual pain (ligament pain, back pain, hip pain, boob pain, you name it, I've had it.) This was worrisome pain (spoiler alert: everything is fine.) I really didn't want to be that pregnant lady, you know? The hysterical "mah baybeeeee" pregnant lady. So I consulted Dr. Google and confirmed that I was either totally fine or facing imminent death and went on with my day. Willie was active (more active than usual, actually) so I didn't call my doctor's office until late afternoon when the pain had spread. Which is how I ended up with a Wednesday morning doctor's appointment with a doctor I've never met before.

You guys. He was gorgeous. Like, uncomfortably attractive. Tall and dark and chiseled. The office was still locked when I arrived so I had to stand in the hallway with Dr. Beautiful and make flustered smalltalk about traffic and the weather. It was ridiculous. I am ridiculous. Ridiculous but pleased. I've been so blue lately and everything has been such a struggle. It felt really good to have a normal, awkward reaction to something that lately would have sent me into a funk. I don't know if it's the sunshine we've had this week or if it's because the move is finally over or if it's as simple as not being sick and deathy anymore but I am finally starting to feel like myself again. I'm still overwhelmed and feeling completely behind in everything (see below: week 32 photo. I am now 34 weeks pregnant) but this week I've found myself laughing in situations that up until recently would have sent me into a fit of tears. Like when Shawn and I were hanging wedding photos and he said, "look how skinny you were!" or when Wolfgang lifted his leg and peed all over the pot of mint I had growing on my lovely new patio. Things are beginning to feel good again is what I'm saying (apart from the clueless dudes in my life, amirite?)

I Want Pinned Down I Want Unsettled Rattle Cage After Cage

May was a difficult month. It wasn't all bad (Shawn's birthday! the arrival of Shawn's dad to help with the move!) but even the good stuff came with its own set of challenges (Shawn's new job! That required a 4-day trip to San Francisco, which turned into a 5-day trip after a massive travel fail resulted in a 24-hour trip from San Francisco to Vancouver.)

Shawn went away for the May long weekend. He goes away every year with the same group of guys for four days of shenanigans. Months ago (when he had to pay for his portion of the trip) Shawn asked if I was okay with him going this year. We knew about Willie but the move and the new job weren't in the picture. So I told him I would be fine. And then we sold the condo and had to move the last weekend in May (the weekend after the trip.) And then the job opportunity came along and he had to be in San Francisco for the weekend before the trip. And my head started to melt.

We've been in the new condo for almost a week. The move was horrible and stressful and disorganized but it's finished (thanks to the kindness of our families and friends who seriously saved our asses.) Our condo is a mess of unpacked boxes and half-built furniture. Shawn started last week with a cold and ended up with the flu. I caught Shawn's cold and ended up with a chest infection. We're miserable and ill and we don't like each other very much right now. But the move is finished. And soon we will be organized and settled and we can be friends again.