Son

At 8:30 pm, May 29, 2010 we found out I were pregnant.

At 9:30 pm, May 29, 2010 we found out I was pregnant with a girl. And we were having a boy two years later.

Crazy, eh?

How did we know? My dear friend Carolina Mondragon told me. She had a dream about our children, woke up and posted this on my Facebook wall:

Hi Strong Dinosaur!!!! I hope you are doing well...we should skype soon :) Hey, I had a really amazing dream last night! I dreamt your future kids! Weird, right? I saw you with a little, redheaded girl about two or three and a little (super) blonde boy about one!! And they were your kids!!!! They were the cutest! Basically little Erin and Ryan! But it was such a clear dream, that when I woke I said to myself, I have to tell Erin! So, for the future, I call your first to be a girl and your second a boy :) Miss you tons and hope you and Ryan are doing great!

To which I responded:

Haha! I LOVE it! I guess we'll just have to wait and see how prophetic your dream was.

Even though I kept my response calm, I TOTALLY freaked out when I read this. I had literally known for one hour I was pregnant and here was my friend telling me she just woke up from a vivid dream about my kids! Though I really wanted a boy first I couldn't shake Carolina's vision. About 16 weeks after receiving this post we found out I was, in fact, pregnant with a girl (who turned out to be a redhead). So when this time around the ultrasound tech said, "It's a boy", I wasn't surprised. It simply confirmed what I already knew. And I cried.

It's a boy.

A boy.

Boy!!!

I could not be happier. To be the mother of a son is so exciting to me. It holds great responsibility and in some ways I am terrified. What do I know that will help this boy become a man? But to be the woman who will form this little guy's idea of femininity and guide him to manhood is a great honor. I take up this cause with great reverence and expectation.

There's an ease and tenderness that can only exist in opposite gender parent/child relationships. I see it in Ryan and Audrey's interactions every day and I hope to experience it myself. I want to be his mommy in the same way Ryan is Audrey's daddy. 

So far Carolina's dream is bang on. Now we just have to wait and see if our little guy's a blond.

ps. Check out the updated 'Our Little Family' page!

I actually prefer baby boy clothes. Our son is going to rock cardigans with elbow patches and tweed. Lots of tweed.

Encountering God on Bank Street

"What a cute boy!"

Why do street people always think she's a boy? I wonder to myself as we approach a man sitting on busy Bank Street holding a cardboard sign with a crumpled baseball cap open in front of him. But I try to be respectful of street people, I smile and respond, "Thanks".

"How old is he?"

"She's 18 months"

I expect this is as far as it will go but he continues.

"Oh! She's a girl. I have a girl a bit younger than her. One older, too"

This is going in a strangely normal direction.

He then tells me about his daughters and asks questions about Audrey. This conversation is no different than ones I've had with other dads of children Audrey's age. But it is unusual since he's sitting on a busy street in downtown Ottawa panhandling.

We swap anecdotes of life with little ones and as we continue talking he tells me why he's on the street. He attended college and worked two jobs while balancing family life until he had a mental breakdown and was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. He recently returned home to his wife and daughters but is unable to work until he completes sessions with a psychologist. Once he's healthy, it's back to school and work.

But he mostly wants to talk about how great it is to be a dad and how wonderful his wife is.

It hits me: there's little separating this man from Ryan.

Ryan will start school in a year and he could easily need to work several jobs to get our family through. If Ryan were to suffer the same illness we would be in very precipitous circumstances. We are very blessed to have lots of friends and family who would take us in and never allow Ryan to beg on the street. But beyond others' generosity we would not be able to maintain ourselves for long. I could get a job but that would lead to issues of childcare. It would take quite a few extraordinary circumstances to bring Ryan to beg but we have no guarantee it will never happen.

Audrey gets fussy. I tell the man it's nap time so we need to go but it was nice talking with him. I give him the contents of my wallet (about $4) but I wish I asked his name. I wish I said I would pray for him.

After I lay Audrey to sleep in her crib I go back into the living room and stress over whether to buy a haircut on Groupon. I've needed my haircut for months but have decided it's one thing that can wait until Ryan's working again. I buy it anyway. I think of the man on the street. The man who reminds me of my husband.

Perspective sets in.

Thankfulness takes hold.

Even when finances are extremely tight I can get my hair professionally cut. And for that I am truly grateful. Not because, for whatever reason, God has blessed us materially but because for right now we are fine. Right now I can give a person all my cash and know and wish I could have given much more. Tomorrow Ryan might be the one on the street but for today he is not.

"Though riches come and riches go, don’t set your heart upon them" reads Psalms 62:10. When I heard this in church a few days later I knew this is what God wants me to take away from my encounter. He's been peeling away the chaff of my false belief that money equals security for some time and I'm now beginning to see the grain of truth that lay buried. "Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken" Psalms 62:1-2. Whether we have money, whether we don't, I have peace in Christ because He is my salvation.

O praise Him, O praise Him, hallelujah, hallelujah

The Inalienable Rights of Pregnant Women

When we found out I was pregnant with Audrey my head began to spin (in a very excited, anxious sort of way). We didn't plan the pregnancy and I knew almost nothing about being pregnant. I spent the first few weeks on Google researching everything from what not to eat to strollers. I didn't know what to expect from my body or the experience. But now, being pregnant for a second time, I at least have a clue as to what is happening but I for sure know how I want to be treated. And I think the way I want to be treated is the way that most pregnant woman want to be, and should be, treated. Though a woman can function near-normally for almost, if not all, of her pregnancy, she does deserve special consideration and license to do what is best for her.

Here are 10 Rights I believe all pregnant women are entitled to. It is in no way complete and I could add more but these cover the general scope of pregnancy and reflect my experience and those of friends.

1. To Wear Sweats or Yoga Pants Anywhere and Everywhere. I strictly believe that sweats are never to be worn out of the house. No one exercises in them anymore so there's no need to wear them other than when you want to relax at home. Yoga pants are only acceptable when going to or from yoga. That's it. Unless you're pregnant. Then wear them as you please. It's uncomfortable enough simply being pregnant and though maternity pants are stretchy, they're not the most comfortable things in the world. So go on, get comfy. Just be sure to wear a cute dress every once in a while to balance things out.

2. To Only be Told She is 'Beautiful', 'Radiant', 'Lovely' etc... I honestly think most pregnant women are gorgeous. There's something so strong yet elegant about the pregnant silhouette and I can't think of a more complete expression of womanhood. And every pregnant woman deserves to be told that. And only that. She should never be told that she's looking a bit chubby, asked if she's having twins (or triplets), told that she's carrying too high or too low, that she looks tired. Only beautiful. Only perfect. Only spectacular. Even if it's not true, no other words should ever be spoken. Especially by a random person in the grocery line.

3. To Overindulge on Things She 'Shouldn't' Eat. I get it. My baby eats what I eat. I don't really want my baby eating candy and fries but sometimes my body screams "All I want is candy and fries!" Sometimes I listen. And I don't care. As long as a pregnant woman is eating well overall, she's totally allowed to pig out every once in a while. Cravings are joked about so often it's cliché but honestly, they're not funny. When I really want poutine, you'd better stand back until I get it. But that's only when I really want it. Otherwise I tell myself to get over it and I eat something green.

4. To Sit Down. When I was pregnant with Audrey I was fortunate enough to be in Hungary where chivalry is very much so alive. Men give up their seats for women without even thinking about it and they are even more considerate of pregnant women. Standing can be hard, especially in the last trimester of pregnancy. Holding up that growing belly everyone admires is not easy. Add swollen legs and poor circulation and life can just be miserable sometimes. That's when every effort should be made to let the pregnant woman just sit. No matter what the situation is, she should not be made to stand unless she wants to.

5. To Not Be Touched by Strangers. Another advantage of being pregnant in Hungary was a stranger never touched me. It's just not something they do. But in good ol' overly-friendly North America, that's not the case. Just because a woman's belly is sticking out and there's an adorable baby in it, it is not an open invitation to get physical. Personal space is personal space, no matter what shape it takes.

6. Access to Free (or nearly free) Health Care. Money is the last thing any expecting mother needs to worry about. She has much more important things to ponder: Boy or girl? What sport will she play? Will he have my eyes? How much it will cost to bring the little one into the world should never be an issue. I've been fortunate enough to have given birth/ be pregnant in two countries that place a high priority on making quality health care available to everyone. Granted, taxes are much higher than in the States so I do pay for the care I receive but it's not something I need to think about. In Hungary we chose to pay to see our doctor privately and for me to have a single room during my hospital stay, bringing our total bill to $450. We won't pay anything in Canada. I'm so thankful.

7. To Not be Judged for Her Choices (as long as they're healthy). Want an epidural? You go girl. All-natural home birth? More power to you. Pregnancy and birth are very personal experiences and no woman should be made to feel like the decision she's made are in any way superior or inferior or make her more or less of a woman. As long as her choices are in no way dangerous for her or her baby a woman should choose what is right for her. Whether everything she ate was local organic or a Big Mac was apart of the regular diet every woman is a mother in just the same way. It doesn't matter if she delivered by C-section or in a bathtub at home.

8. To Not be Asked Why She Hasn't Given Birth. This is another area I was very fortunate: Audrey was born 10 days early. But I have heard horror stories about women being pestered by coworkers and people at church who wonder why she hasn't given birth even weeks before the due date. Like it's up to her! Very few pregnant women want to continue being pregnant for a moment longer than is absolutely necessary and no woman is going to intentionally keep her baby inside. All people need to say is that she continues to look radiant. And mind their own business.

9. To Be Treated Like a Person. It's great when people are considerate and sensitive to the fact that the pregnant body does not, in the later part of pregnancy, function optimally. It is not great when they sweep in to do simple tasks a woman is fully capable of doing, or worse, completely write her off as not being capable of anything. A woman is able to form a baby in her womb while contributing to society. And for that she deserves great respect.

10. To Not Hear Complaints About the Fact That She is Pregnant. Pregnancy is hard. The body does things it normally doesn't and takes on a mind of its own. And then there's a growing child who commandeers what little space is in the trunk of the body, and then some. All this means some unusual symptoms that typically only affect mom but it can spill over to others. A pregnant woman has to pee. All the time. There's a little body squishing the bladder until it almost ceases to exist. If others have to wait while the expecting mother uses the bathroom again she does not need to hear any complaints. It's annoying to her and she doesn't need to take it from anyone else. There's also food limitations, slow walking pace, greater sensitivity to smell and other strange symptoms. If these in any way bother those around her they just need to get over it. She is creating a beautiful life, after all.

Potty Training a 17-Month Old, or, Are We Crazy?!?!

As much as I don't like it, the cell phone keeps Audrey occupied and on the toilet and also doubles as a timer.

We did it. We took the plunge.

Early start potty training.

And we're not as insane as you might think. Did you know it's only been since the 1960s that parents have been told to wait until their child is older than two to potty train? And who told them that?

Pampers.

Going back even further, the advent of the automatic washing machine pushed the start time back from 2-3 months (yes, months) to no later than 7-9 months. The change was seen as rather liberal.

Now, I have no intentions of teaching my newborn to use a toilet but it is interesting to think about who is telling us what our children are/aren't capable of. And most importantly, why. Even though we use cloth diapers, I don't want the disposable companies telling me it's okay for my daughter to carry around her own waste until she's five just so they can make more money.

So here Ryan and I are, attempting to train our daughter to pee in a toilet. We're seven hours into it and there's been about 10 accidents and five successes, and Audrey's sat on the toilet for about half an hour. As per my mom's suggestion, we have a sticker chart by the toilet. Audrey gets a star if she sits on the toilet for a timed length, increasing from one minute to three at this point, and she gets a smiley face if she actually pees in the toilet. And of course she always gets lots, and lots, and lots of praise. She's getting the routine down, from walking towards the bathroom when we say 'potty' to helping us clean up the messes. Since she doesn't speak I know getting her to communicate to us that she needs to go will be the biggest issue. But for now we're focusing on her understanding when she needs to go and we'll worry about her telling us later.

Though it might still take six months for Audrey to be fully potty trained, I'm glad we're doing it now. Even if it does take that long, she'll still be way ahead of her peers. She's a bright little girl and she's up for the challenge and so are we. I want her to understand from an early age that perseverance, patience and a good attitude will serve her well throughout her life. So Ryan and I are holding onto those qualities ourselves as Audrey runs around naked.



All the information here is from the book Early Start Potty Training by Linda Sonna. I highly recommend it.

Where Did the Baby Go?

As a girl I loved the book Where Did the Baby Go? by Shelia Hayes. It's the story of a little girl who finds a picture in her house of a baby wearing a hat. She is curious who the baby is because no baby lives there. Her mom gives her clues about what the baby likes to do, where she plays and sleeps. The little girl searches all over the house but just cannot find the baby. Finally her mom gives her one last clue. The baby likes to play dress-up. Excitedly the girl runs to her mom's closet and pulls out the same hat the baby in the picture is wearing. She puts it on, examines herself closely in the mirror, and realizes SHE is the baby. They have the same nose, hair and sparkle in their eyes. She runs back to her mom exclaiming she found the baby and they joyfully embrace.

Now that I'm on the other end of the story, I don't know if I'm as okay with my baby going away as the mom seemed to be. My baby is in the process of going away and I don't like it. While having a little girl will bring a new set of joys and blessings, I'm not ready to relinquish those that came with Audrey as a baby.

Every morning when Audrey wakes up I see more little girl and less baby in her. The lines of her face, the proportions of her body and the understanding she demonstrates make it clear she's on her way to childhood. This has been especially true lately and has brought back the tension I feel when she shows strong signs of growing up. I love to watch her learn and grow and become more of the woman she will one day be but part of me mourns the loss of my baby. She spends her days in a flurry of activity and practicing her ever expanding repertoire of skills. I love watching her play and cause havoc but I miss when her days were spent bundled in the Moby wrap, cooing to herself and drooling. Audrey is still very much so a toddler (sippy cups, frustrated tantrums, unintelligible babble, et al) and we are very far from her actually being a little girl. But I can't help asking myself 'Where did the baby go?'

Audrey can almost completely feed herself with a fork and we're potty training. And you know what? I'm excited. Like SUPER excited for these things. Not because I don't have to sit there and feed Audrey her dinner or change her diaper but because it means she's growing up. She's developing, learning, blossoming. I really don't want her to be a baby forever. If she wasn't able to develop I would be very, very sad because she would never reach her potential. So I cheer her on every time a fork full of food reaches her mouth and something that resembles a word escapes her lips.

Where did my baby go? She's gone. She's my little girl.

That's why we're having another baby. I get to spend countless hours holding a barely moving little bundle, to breast-feed, to wash teeny-tiny little clothes. To know I will do the baby thing again (and hopefully at least once more after that) is great consolation for Audrey getting older.

Knocked-Up Abroad: Round Two

"Every pregnancy is different"

I must have only been about four weeks into my first pregnancy when I read this. I read it so often I got tired of it. "I know! I got it already!" But this is going to be extra true for me.

This pregnancy is going to be VERY different.

I had no idea what to expect in Hungary. Not only was it my first pregnancy, everything I read about appointments and when what was done was about the US. Maybe 10% of it applied. Talk about fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants. Up to this point I had only been to a doctor once in Hungary and it was just to get some antibiotics when I was sick. I had no clue what was going on half the time and the only reason I knew that much was because of my gracious friends who went to appointments with me. The whole system was different and I had to learn how to navigate it as well as my changing body. Even though women throughout the world have been pregnant and giving birth in the exact same way for thousands of years, I had a lot more than the average first-time mother to learn.

Now here I am in Canada, expecting #2. So while this is my second pregnancy, in many ways it's like it's my first. Though I know what to expect in the pregnancy, I don't know what to expect in the healthcare system. I don't know at what weeks appointments are scheduled, I don't know where I'll go to get various tests done, I don't know what to bring to the hospital or how long I'll be there.  So it's back on the learning curve. And it's been steep from day one.

In both countries I took a home pregnancy test. In Hungary my friend set up an appointment with an OB-GYN for me and I saw him a few days after the test. The extent of our 'interview' was asking if he spoke English and felt comfortable taking me on as a patient. After he said yes, he examined me to confirm the pregnancy and scheduled an ultrasound for the next week. I was four weeks along at the time. Here I called a midwifery group and the receptionist asked when I was due (I was expected to know, which, of course, I did) and she made sure there was a midwife available and then scheduled my first appointment for 8 weeks. No confirmation. During the interview the midwife told me about the group and how it works and took some basic medical history (mostly about Audrey's pregnancy and birth). At the end we had to tell her we wanted to work with her and we made an appointment for a month later. Nothing medical, just talking.

14 1/2 weeks.

Hungarian insurance provides both an OB-GYN and a midwife. The OB-GYN handels the medical side while the midwife answers questions and spends more time with the expecting mothers. She also visits weekly for the first six weeks after the baby is born and then monthly for the first year. Together they make a complete team. My midwife didn't speak English so my OB-GYN took on more of her role, which I really appreciated. This time around I had to choose: OB or midwife. Going with a midwife was an easy and natural decision for many reasons. I really look forward to working with a midwife and I am thankful that I will have more similar care to what I received in Hungary than if I were to go through and OB. I much prefer hour long appointments to maybe 15 minutes.

My doctor did all my ultrasounds in Hungary. In fact, most of my appointments consisted primarily of ultrasounds. I did have appointments with him in other parts of the hospital but most of our time together was spent looking at a picture of growing Audrey. I felt comfortable asking questions about what we saw or for more information. Though the appointments weren't long I appreciated that I had a relationship with the person telling me about my baby. I had about four ultrasounds in the first trimester and probably another four or five throughout the rest of my pregnancy. In Canada I had my first ultrasound at eleven weeks and that's because I wanted one. The midwife wasn't able to pick up the baby's heartbeat on the Doppler at her office and though I wasn't worried, I still wanted to know my baby was doing fine (and we wanted to hear a heartbeat before we went public). So I called an ultrasound clinic and an ultrasound tech did the screening. While I was still elated to watch my baby squirm around the screen and know there was a healthy heartbeat (I shed a couple of tears), it didn't seem as personal. Not that it really matters, but it's just always nicer when you know the person you are sharing an intimate moment with.

To make an appointment in Hungary, you let the doctor know you're going to slip them some extra cash. The state insurance covers all the expenses but unless you want to see whichever doctor is available when you show up, you have to line the doctor's pocket (usually it's about $10 a visit but ours wouldn't take anything from us). When it was getting close to the week when I needed to see my doctor I called his cell (he even answered it during appointments) and  typically set up an appointment for whenever it was his turn to do ultrasounds. At the time of the appointment he would get me from the waiting room. There were always several other women waiting in line but I got to go ahead of them. I always felt kind of bad. There were several occasions when I had to see another doctor to get documents so I could get maternity leave pay. In these cases I had to wait like everyone else. In order to get in, I had to wait until a nurse popped her head out of the door (there are no receptionists) beat the other expecting mothers back with a stick and attempt to explain why I was there. Then I had to wait my turn and make sure no one cut in front of me (Hungarians are TERRIBLE at waiting in line. And I mean TERRIBLE. Did I mention they're terrible?). Canada's much tamer: either call to schedule an appointment with the receptionist or make the next appointment as you leave. Bliss.

Audrey's growing up so much I can't wait to have another baby around!

 

Giving birth to Audrey in Hungary was one of the best experiences in my life. An experience I would not change for anything and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I learned and grew in ways I never would have otherwise. Learning to navigate the Hungarian healthcare system (which is an accomplishment, I must say) taught me confidence (I had to be rather bold to get some things accomplished) and simply going through a complete pregnancy in a foreign country away from my family showed me I possessed strength I never knew I had. Now I get to do it all again. I'm very excited to see how Canada cares for its expecting mothers and to have a very different pregnancy and birth experience. It keeps life interesting and it keeps me growing. And I want to grow. Both in my understanding of the world and my family.

Priority and Provision

In a week we will have no source of income for two months. And we're super excited!

However, we weren't always excited. In fact, we were quite terrified for a while. But after much prayer we began to see the opportunities that would be available to us. No income means no work which means lots of free time. Free time to spend how we choose.

To spend time together as a family. To be more involved in our church. To get things done around the house. To find money for grad school. To take care of each other (mostly Ryan taking care of me, but some of the other way around, too).

We have time to spend on our priorities (which seem to be the things God wants us to spend time on. Hmm...).

While this prospect was always exciting, the provision part was scary. Ryan gets paid plenty for us to live on, but there's not a lot left to save so living off savings isn't an option. Add to that the fact that Ryan can't work for anyone except Trinity and my being pregnant, our employment options are rather limited. Fortunately I have been able to work at the LLC for 5 weeks but it's not enough to last us the summer.

That's where the ultimate Provider steps in.

Through this we have seen what provision truly is and recognized Who it comes from. As we trust God He gives us what we need, just enough for us to know we're taken care of but not so much we get complacent. While our provision is typically through the income from a job, it is manifested in different ways. It's 100% healthcare coverage for pregnancy. It's care packages from family that make up Audrey's summer wardrobe. It's the Canadian government just giving us money (let's hear it for being low-income parents!). It's my work providing breakfast and lunch for three weeks. It's a free copy of the Entertainment book (hello date nights!). It's having subsidized rent and only two bills. I really could go on. God knows our needs (from paying student loans to Ryan and I having an evening out) and He has met every one of them.

We are so well provided for we are able to pursue our priorities. What a blessing.

Who wouldn't want to spend ALL of their time with this little one?