Everyday

I love you more than all the dust sparkles under my bed.
I think about you everyday, times over again.
And when the light begins to find the green of our earth,
and the birds begin the first notes of the day,
I hover a smile onto my pillow and stretch all the right strings to
make exactly the right melody for the day.
For you
for me
Everyday.

Capturing The Uncapturable

Sometimes we are in stand stills. Dust seems to sprinkle on the  obvious pieces. It is a slowed blur our eyes pick up on and half the  time we don’t realize it until we are out of that still. Many things end up happening in those slower moments.Stuff we know is  happening, stuff we know that has happened. But we can feel so far  from grasping it all. From truly understanding and accepting the unravelled events. And there really is nothing we can do about that  because time is going to keep ticking and things are going to keep  happening. Whether we want then to or not.

Sometimes they are the biggest events of our life. Capturing then  seems next to impossible, reguardless of the net we’re using or the  speed in which we’re running. We can feel it to. Feel the fact that what we are experiencing is beyond what we can pick apart. The details are sworn in and we look at them like we look at baby  koalas in zoos.Unreachable yet with the knowledge  of how cuddly they are.  They make you feel.

And that’s probably the most of what makes up these intangible  occurances. How much they make us feel. Feelings are a lot more difficult to draw out than what we see or even  hear..

And so on we go with our life. Yet our head is turned, our eyes  searching for some kind of light. A way to put the experiences in a  folder, to get them stalked and sorted so we are able to pull them out  years down the line and have those memories in good condition. Because in the end, those memories are what makes up life. When we  read about our Christmas four years ago or of the time we got our dog, we can almost feel what  we did during those actual moments.

To capture the happenings once they have happened. To write them out, to draw, to take photos. Anything to keep those memories alive, to keep those feelings they produced, remembered. Parts of life that are so valuable. And by keeping them close to our heart, our life may feel alittle more fufilled. The journey in getting to where we are today won’t be as hazy and unknown. We’ll have the pieces, our past that we can use to understand ourselves better.

Capture what you can in a manner best suitable to who you are and what you enjoy.

Flurry of Days Leading up to the Largest Order

The day before was a blended mcflurry. Of smarties and m&ms, of reeses 
pieces and fudge. I never tasted any of it but I knew it was spinning. 
I knew The lid was about to come off and the contents were going to 
float.
 
The Monday prior to the big day, I had my first pelvic exam ever. I 
wasn’t grossed out or nervous but it was the first real discomfort 
that I knew would click in with the rest of labour.
 
 She says it twice because I ask her to.
” your 3 cm dilated”.
I wash myself.   i pull my clothes on slowly.
She states that I am in labour. And the words echo off the certified 
walls.
Had I felt any such labour pain or cramping? None.
 
I walked out of their with explosive options. Either wait till 
contractions became worthy of hospitilization or come in the next day 
for the oxytocin. In other words, to have the baby.
I zombied around the halls. I zombied around the home.
The doc had long ago told me that she wasn’t going to induce me if 
there were no signs of labour.  My family and I all thought I would go 
past my due date. Here I was two days till that day and I had already 
been having progressive contractions. Without knowing.
I decided that the more dilated i could get at home, the better. 
Besides, my sister hadn’t arrived yet.
I went home and called my dad in brazil. He said he’d be on the next 
possible plane out.
 
The very next day, the true mcflurry day, I woke up feeling like it was the
last one I’d be pregnant.
Everything in those 24 hours was done or said or looked at 
with the heavy frost of knowledge that I would be a mother the next 
day.   I wasn’t in any pain but I knew The doctor was right and I 
shouldn’t wait too long. I didn’t want the baby gettig bigger anyway.
It was the evening . I called the doctor up with puffs of cloudy 
questions, worried that perhaps baby was getting stressed in there . 
She advised against waiting and said to come in the following day- at 
least to check how far I’d dilated.
With that set in stone,  I began to get frantic.All the things I had 
to do before baby came. The lid on the mcflurry mix flung off and 
pieces went everywhere. I was standing at the bottom of a flight of 
stairs outside, attempting to take the last of the belly photos when i 
broke down. The world felt heavy to my eyes. I felt like a collapsable 
tent myself.  This was me shutting down.
 
But back home, for a good hour I went around the
house wide eyed and in a frenzy that noone could stop.
I was filling up soap containers, organizing my closet,
sweeping the floors and raking the lawn. Things had to feel done.
I laid in bed that night thinking it’d be the last full night of sleep 
for awhile. How right I was. I held my breath as I entered Sleepville 
that night and in the morning, I, along with all those pieces, were 
floating. Were actually floating.

My Experience at Bangkok Pattaya Hospital

All along I didn’t have as much faith in the hospitals here in
Thailand as I did for Canada. Not necessarily skillwise  but culture
wise. What’s most common. Or the fact I’m white.  That they would give
me a C section to get more money from us. Or feed my baby a bottle
when I had asked them not to. I just didn’t trust them. Concerns like
these that mounted over the months.
I’m not saying I ever fully did trust the staff. But I knew I was in
good hands. It was the best hospital we could have went to in the
area. If not in all of Thailand.

Our doctor I felt, was very abrupt at the beginning. I had wanted her
to tell me what she was going to do when she asked me to go up on the
table. I wanted to know things, to be told them so I wasnt laced with
confusion.

In the end I came to understand how we would work.
I’d  ask the hundred questions, even if on repeat, and she would answer
then to the best of her ability.
She was great. I am happy we went with her because she made me
feel like a pro in the end. And she wasn’t getting paid extra for that.

We may never know if our little Zeek needed to spend two nights in
ICU. Maybe we could justify one, but 48 hours? Apparently he had
swallowed too much fluid. And so when I saw him for the first time he
was in the clear box with two tubes in his mouth and an IV line in his
right hand.
He looked rough then but by the next day they had removed the mouth
tubes. I held him then for the first time and cried .
Our bill ended up being double what we expected at Bangkok Pattaya
Hospital… due to the ICU. Other than that the nurses were all very
helpful and nice, the recovery room was great, food wasn’t too
terrible and the doc came by to check up  on us a few times .

I’m pretty sure the entire birthing staff saw my boobs from day one. But
in the need if it all, it didn’t bother me.
I had a baby to feed and dang well if I was gonna scout out a lone
feeding space while my new baby was screeching.

It’s difficult to believe that only three weeks ago today it all
happened.
I stepped into the realm of motherhood.
And I sit so comfortably in the fact that I won’t ever not be in it.

From here on out.

A New Beautiful

I never knew how many things I could do with my toes. It’s only been three weeks and I’ve opened cabinet doors, picked up everything from  scissors to power cords, even lowered the volume on the tv. It’s not because I’ve broken both my arms or because Im doing a  science project… but because I have a child to hold.
He is so much of mine .
I crack grins over everything I do and watch the contents dribble . I watch his face for hours as he makes faces I’ve never seen before. Later on I’ll catch myself with the feeling that my face is doing  something like I’ve seen on his.
I love that I can help him burp. I love that I can get him clean and  stop him from crying . That he depends on me for all these things.

It’s beautiful.

Introducing

I told you something big would happen.
Something big in my life.

I’ve thought about this post for quite some time. Wondering how I
would tell it. Even though I don’t know any of you, the sacredness of
this beauty is so much that the one reveal HAS to be good.

But while trying to come up with a reveal, I’ve realized that the
intensity lies within the fact itself.
No buttery mixture or flowered intricacies are needed for this.
It holds it’s own power.

It is something I have wanted since I was in my late teens.
Something I believe I was born to be. In my heart the desire has
flicked and licked and jumped around, but  it has not ever faded.
Because it is the whispers of my life.
Unlike schooling it is the one thing I have been certain I want to
enroll in.

As of October 24th 2012, I took on the biggest title I will ever.
I became a mother.

All the recent unfolding events I cannot seem to catch and fold back up
again.  And maybe that’s partly why they are so special. I know in
time I will have them wrapped around me but for now, it’s the kind of
material that is better left to see from afar. And from that sight,
sit in the feelings it produces.

I want to write more on it all. It surely is worthy of it.

But for now I leave you with the introduction of
my son

Zeek.

The largest bucket of love I’ve ever poured on me.
The widest river of love I’ve ever swam in.
The tallest tree I’ve ever climbed.
The most love I’ve ever felt.