tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag... or the best 50 cents I ever spent

Though her words are simple and few
Listen, listen, she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

Tell me you remember that song from Mary Poppins. 

These were all taken by a friend of mine, Lisa, during a sightseeing morning with my mom and aunt. We went up the cable car up to Monserrate, then headed to Plaza Simon Bolivar and the Presidential Palace before a visit to the emerald district in La Candelaria. I rarely hand my camera over to other (cause I'm a control freak), but I'm so glad I did because Lisa did a great job AND I'M ACTUALLY IN SOME PICTURES. I didn't even remember to take the camera out of manual! 

And Andrew? He loooooved feeding the pigeons. I thought he'd freak out with them clamouring all over us, but he couldn't get enough. We'll definitely be taking all three boys back before we leave Colombia.

(If I get around to it, this post will link back to these Wordless Wednesday parties.)

a walk and a reminder

We had such a gorgeous weekend here in Bogota. After rain, rain and more rain, we had an almost four day reprieve starting Thursday afternoon. Friday was perfect, Saturday and Sunday were wonderfully hot and sunny, and although the ground was wet when we woke Monday morning, the day was really lovely. 

When Andrew woke from his nap, the sun was steaming in the windows, so I decided to take advantage of the weather and head out for a quick walk before the school bus showed up.

A block from our place, there's a giant stone medallion. I'd never really stopped to look at it before yesterday. I couldn't read the stone plaque that accompanied it... it was half sunk into the ground and was written in either spanish or latin... which are essentially the same to me! Andrew thought it was great fun to make faces at me through the hole.

I know I should've backed up so you could see the full size of the stone. Sorry. But give me a break. I'm in my seventh month of pregnancy, was squatting down already, and didn't feel like backwards duck walking up the steep slope I was on (ie, I'm pregnant and lazy).

These next pictures were all taken down a little walkway next to an apartment complex that Andrew and I discovered a few weeks ago, on another walk. It's cool and shaded and quiet and is full of neat green plants and beautiful flowers. And at the very back of the walk, Andrew can peak through the fence to see one of the rivers that runs down the mountain into Bogota.

IS MY FACE REALLY THIS BIG?? 

Although our walk lasted less than an hour, I'm so glad we went. The neighbourhood around our place is really beautiful and there are so many areas that we haven't yet explored. Andrew loves waving to all the guards/gardeners/maids/drivers, pointing out all the dogs and motorbikes he sees, smelling flowers, jumping off curbs and over cracks, climbing on rocks and low stone walls... he takes such joy in the little things that I either don't notice, take for granted, or even consider a nuisance. 

Now that I'm feeling better, I hope to get out much more often with him for these little walks. He enjoys it so much, it's great exercise for us both (have I mentioned all the hills around our place and the fact that we're at over 9000 feet??), and I love spending that time with youngest -and last- little boy.

double digits! double digits!

A few people have asked recently about whether or not we'll be having the baby here in Colombia or returning home to Canada for the birth. Currently our plan is to not only stay in Bogota... but we're planning a homebirth.

This surprises a lot of people -especially the Colombians!- but there are many reasons behind our choice.

With Liam, labour started spontaneously with contractions every 3 minutes right from the get go. Being my first time, we went to the hospital where it was confirmed that it was, indeed, real labour and left with instructions to return when it got "real bad". We returned to the hospital around 2 or 3am, but being only 3-4 centimetres dilated, were given the choice to stay at the hospital (where the only accommodations they could offer us were in the waiting room) or to return home. 

We went back home of course. Back home again. 

I was so defeated by the thought of being sent home A THIRD TIME that I determined to labour at home as long as possible and arrived at the hospital already at 9 cms. I begged and pleaded for an epidural -while crying on hands and knees in the triage area!- and when they checked me after the epidural was in place I was at 10ccms. 

The epidural completely stalled my labour. Contractions slowed to 8 mins apart (which was actually a blessed relief since it gave Peter and I both the chance to sleep for a few hours) and pitocin was required to get things going again. Once I started to push though, it only took 15-20 minutes for Liam to be born. 19 hours from beginning to birth.

Liam at 10 days old

Nathaniel's birth was vastly different... 

Because of his Trisomy 18 diagnosis, we chose to induce at 37 weeks. This meant that our families could make arrangements to travel to be with us and it was also deemed the best chance for us to be able to spend time with him alive. So I was induced with the use of cervidel (sp?) and pitocin. Once again labour started right off with contractions every three minutes and continued that way for (another) NINETEEN MORE HOURS. I finally did choose to get an epidural, but more for the sake of having it in place should a c-section be necessary.

Turned out that it was.

Even though we had to fight for the section to be performed (as they only considered ME as a patient and not Nathaniel since his diagnosis was "fatal anyways"), in the end we got our wish and were able to spend a short time with Nathaniel. 

While I don't regret that decision AT ALL, the operation itself was pretty awful. I'd spent absolutely no time reading up on cesareans and had no idea what to expect, how it might feel, WHAT I might feel, how long it would take, etc, etc, etc. And the whole time I didn't know if Nathaniel was still with us or how long he would survive. It was just awful. Scary, uncomfortable, full of unknowns, super-charged with emotion... and I felt totally NOT in control.

But it was worth it.

 

When we got pregnant with Simon so soon afterwards, our doctor was concerned about the short amount of time between the cesarean and the next birth. It was agreed that we would be able to attempt a "trial" labour, but would need to be in hospital to be monitored the entire time.

When Simon was 5 days overdue, they did an ultrasound that showed he had dangerously low levels of fluid left. Even though we'd been constantly told that an induction was not an option with a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean), went went in the next day and I was started on a minuscule amount of pitocin. When my doctor tried to break my water, she tried and tried and kept saying that it must be a really thick membrane. Turns out she was actually scraping against his little head... there was just no fluid left to come out.

Because of the low levels of fluid and the intensity of a pitocin induction -oh and him being posterior or "sunny side up"- his heart rate was dropping with each contractions, I was given an epidural and the OR was prepped. This was the last thing I'd wanted. However once the epidural was in place and I could relax a bit, I went from 5cm to 10cm in less than 15 minutes. No one believed me when I said I had to push, but they checked and found me fully dilated.

The obstetrician who was now in the room made it very clear that things were very close to an emergency situation and we had to get him out NOW. After three pushes, Simon was born with the help of a vacuum (and the OB reaching in and manually turning him to help him through the pelvis... thank goodness for female OBs with small hands!). He had meconium staining, scratches on his head, and was pretty blue from the cord being wrapped two or three times around his neck.

It was intense and a bit scary and panicked at the end, but again totally worth it... and I avoided the operating room.

because of the low fluid, him rubbing his face in utero and the birth process itself, his face was SO RED

We moved to Gatineau in 2008 when I was three months pregnant and we were unsure what our birthing options would be. After doing some reading, talking to other moms and making some calls, we settled on the Maison de Naissance, a midwives practice in the city. We'd been told that you pretty much had to call the moment of conception to get in with them... unfortunate since we'd waited until around 20 weeks to call. After an initial meeting, however, they agreed to accept us seeing as this was not my first birth and that -other than Nathaniel's T18 diagnosis- we'd had not other complications.

The labour and birth were fast and intense and I honestly thought I would die before Andrew was born, but the whole midwife/birth centre experience was WONDERFUL. The prenatal care we received was amazing and I loved being able to pack up and leave the birth centre when I felt ready... in this case only about four hours after Andrew's birth.

Andrew at 5 days old

If you bothered to read the link above (I did... not really sure I should have!), you'll know that the natural, drug-free birth at the birth centre was not exactly all roses. It was HARD. After having epidurals with the first three boys, I was seriously questioning my sanity for attempting a birth without one... I was also questioning the likelihood of survival! So why would we choose to have another unmedicated birth, and a home birth at that?

Well the options in Bogota are few. While I'm sure many women have wonderful experiences at hospitals, the hospitals here are not like those in Canada and the US. Don't get me wrong, the medical facilities here are excellent, but there aren't really Labour and Delivery or birthing rooms. From what I've heard, there's ONE -only one!- at the nearest hospital. Most babies are born in operating rooms... completely sterile, bright lights, lots of staff in masks and gowns... and all of the traumatic memories and fears that, for me, go along. So when a friend down here gave us the name of the doctor she's used for her last two births here in Bogota, and he determined we are great candidates for a home birth, it seemed an easy choice to make. 

Not only is he an actual obstetrician with twenty years experience (and the only doctor currently doing home births in Bogota), should something go wrong the hospital is about five minutes away. We can see it from our livingroom window!

I also love the idea of being able to have this baby girl and then crawl right into MY OWN BED. No stay in hospital, no hospital food (although maybe it's better here??), no strange environment and people (to whom I can't communicate because I can't speak spanish), no painful drive home through the bumpy streets and crazy traffic of Bogota. I would also love for the boys to be able to be present and maybe involved a bit, or at the very least be able to come in right away and meet their baby sister. 

Baby sister.

That's still feels so weird to say.

And speaking of our family's newest estrogen-infused family member, today marks 99 DAYS UNTIL MY DUE DATE! While I'm likely to be overdue (as I was for all the boys except Nathaniel), it''s still fun to see that countdown app on our iPod go to double digits.

If any of you have home birth stories you care to share, I'd love to hear them! Either here in the comments of even a link to a blog post you may've written.

the bigger picture

At some point today, amid all the OHMYGOSHWASTHATJUSTANEARTHQUAKE that was happening on Twitter AND INSIDE  MY HEAD, I happened to click on a link posted by Christine from Coffees and Commutes. It was to a new writing initiative called Bigger Picture Moments whose goal is to encourage everyone to take a step back and take in the life we're living. I thought, hey neat, then went back to reading all the #earthquake fun.

(And believe me for those who missed it, once the shock wore off -pun intended- people really brought on the funny. Who knew you could make so many jokes about an earthquake??)

(On a more somber note, how blessed are we that WE CAN ACTUALLY MAKE JOKES ABOUT AN EARTHQUAKE? Although an earthquake of 5.0 isn't normally catastrophic, in many, MANY areas of the world it would mean untold tragedy and suffering for thousands. We. Are. Blessed.)

The Bigger Picture Moments stuck with me though. Originally, I had no intention of participating. I already have too much already that hasn't been blogged, too many pictures not edited and uploaded, too many stories not shared. 

And then it hit me.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in projects and ideas and everything that I want to do -and everything I have to do- that what I am doing loses its importance. And more importantly, what my kids are doing loses its importance. 

It passes me by.

While I'm editing pictures or doing laundry or refinishing furniture or organizing my bookshelves by colour, I could be playing with my boys. My precious boys. I find myself saying, "not right now" or "just let mummy finish this" or "give me a few more minutes" too often. Not always, but more often than I'd like.

I'm not saying that these other things aren't worthy pursuits. Be it cooking or cleaning or crafting or organizing or working from the home (which is what I consider my photography to be), it all has a place.  

I think it's a matter of priorities. And while my boys are undoubtedly my top priority in my heart, sometimes in the daily grind they get pushed aside. Not roughly or rudely or harshly, but they nonetheless find themselves wanting me and having to wait.

Sometimes this is a necessity. The reality is that I can't focus on my children a hundred percent of the time. I do have to cook. I do have to clean and organize. I need to have projects and creative outlets. I have paying clients and deadlines. I know that I can't simply drop everything for them whenever they want me to.

But when I am with them, I really want to be all there. 

I want to relish their childhoods. I want to savour these precious little people they are right now and the amazing little-bit-bigger people they are becoming every day. They are a blessing. They are each a little gift. A precious gift.

I don't want it all to pass me by while I'm standing over the stove, or bend over a pile of laundry, or sitting in front of the computer, or stuck behind my camera. I want my boys to know that they are my priority. Not just in word, but in deed. When they are grown and look back at their childhoods, I want the images they see to be of me reading to them, me sitting next to them playing Lego, me having lightsaber duels with them (and pretending to be knocked over by the Force, which gets old very quick for me, but they love), me baking with them and painting with them and jumping in puddles WITH THEM.

This is the big picture I hope they see.

when green smoothies are NOT so good

Yesterday, Andrea from A Peak inside the Fishbowl (AKA @missfish) linked to a post at Fed Up With Lunch about how to help our kids learn healthy eating habits from a young age. One of tips given was to drink green smoothies.

Although I haven't written about them recently (HERE are some old posts), green smoothies continue to be part of our routine and meal plan. Peter, who at first was reluctant to try (to the point of refusing them for the first few weeks of my green smoothie experiment about 18 months ago), is now by far the biggest consumer. He fills up an 18 oz bottle of smoothie to take to work for his morning break (I'd like to say he does this daily, but it (and by "it" I mean my making them) seems to go in spurts... every day solid for a few weeks, then I get lazy or we run out of some ingredient).

Simon and Liam happily drink them or eat them as popsicles (which we'll be doing more and more as the weather warms up), and even Andrew's eyes light up at the sight of his sippy cup full of smoothie.

Andrew, in fact, loves anything green. When it's time to eat, he'll predictably pick out the green things to eat first: peas, asparagus, broccoli, spinach, celery, avocado... If it's green, he'll eat it first.

Take last night for example...

He'd been super fussy while I was getting supper ready, but we figured it was because he was hungry. When it came time to eat, however, all we could coax into him were a few bites of sausage, some avocado, a spear of asparagus, a small stick of celery, a dozen frozen peas, and however much green smoothie he drank from his cup. Sausage excepted, do you see what these things have in common? Green avocado, green asparagus, green celery, green peas... GREEN smoothie? That's right, class, they're all green.

And mixed together, they make for a shockingly green coloured vomit. 

Yes, you read that right.

He continued to fuss after supper, so I laid down with him IN OUR BED to nurse him to sleep, thinking that would help settle him down. I should've known something was amiss when he would hardly nurse, even after eating so little for supper. Thankfully, he made a few telltale gagging noises before the main event and I was able to quickly swing him up and over AND AWAY FROM THE BED just in time. 

(I was also very thankful for easy-clean laminate flooring in our bedroom and not the off white berber we've had in other homes.)

After the tweet from Andrea yesterday, there were quite a few local moms who were talking about green smoothies on twitter last night. I was all set to jump on after the boys were in bed and Peter was snuggly tucked in downstairs watching playoff hockey and tweet about the numerous benefits of green smoothies, when I instead found myself on hands and knees cleaning up green smoothie.

But even that experience isn't enough to deter me from making -and loving- them!

My. Kid. Is. CUTE.

...if I do say so myself!

I love the soft, aged look of this edit. Very post-war, Depression-era don't you think?

And this? Well, cmon. He's just so cute I COULD EAT HIM WHOLE.

first snow play

 

  

For more Wordless Wednesdays, head over to 5 Minutes for Mom, 7 Clown Circus, and Wordless Wednesday.

one year old

From this,

taken Jan 3rd, 2009 (only a few hours old)

to this,

taken April 2nd, 2009 (three months old)

to this,

taken July 4th, 2009 (six months old)

to this,

taken October 8th, 2009 (nine months old)

to this,

PICTURE TO COME

taken January 3rd, 2010 (one year old!)

Andrew, you are a wonderful little boy. Your birth was definitely the most intense moment of your life (and mine!!), because since that time, your laid back personality has become more apparent every day. That's not to say that you aren't capable of strong or intense emotion, but for the most part, you are a calm, happy little person.

You wake up smiling, ready for a day of play and looking forward to the moment your brothers will come bounding into the room to greet you. That's if you don't slide out of bed to stand at the door, banging until someone comes to open for you.

The rest of the day, you are generally happy to toddle around the living room while Liam does school, watching out the window and eating any bits of food you might find on the floor (good thing we held off on that dog or you'd have some competition). You love when your brothers decide to make a game out of crawling around the furniture and under the curtains with you. You squeal when we pretend to chase you. You give the biggest, BEST hugs.

We kinda think you're trying to trick us into thinking we could handle another baby...

Andrew, this year of firsts -first smiles, first giggles, first teeth, first steps- HAS. BEEN. WONDERFUL. Watching you grow and change and learn has been nothing short of amazing. We are blessed daily by your sweet presence, your easy smile, your twinkling eyes, and your tight little hugs.

You are a gift.

We love you.

Happy 1st Birthday, Monkey.

P.S. While I'd appreciate it if you'd stop growing and changing so quickly, you are more than welcome to start sleeping like a normal one year old. You've been nursing like a newborn the past three nights AND I AM WIPED OUT.

we've got to make the moments last

I lovelovelove the chubby hands!

But I DO NOT LOVE...

...how crazy fast these last 10 months...

...have flown by.

He is growing up...

...way, WAAAY too fast.

Slow down little one.

all about Andrew

I have a video I'm working on showcasing about a hundred pictures I took of a lightsaber fight between Liam and Simon, so to balance things out here's a post all about Andrew.

He started out the afternoon dressed in a very cute little brown hoodie and a blue and grey striped shirt. Thanks to a MASSIVE blow out that required a complete change of clothes and nearly necessitated a hose down outside, he ended up in this slightly garish (but warm) Tigger sweat shirt that was given to me in a bag of outgrown boys' clothes. If you know me, you'll know that I'm not big on logos or mascots or characters on my kids' clothes (exceptions made for Lego, Star Wars and a few vintage comic book super heros).

Why so seeeeerious you two? What's up with the Blue Steel look??

One of Peter and my favorite, FAVORITE things about Andrew is how he hugs. For a little guy, he hugs WITH GUSTO. He will wrap his little arms as tightly and as far around our necks as he can... which is not very far considering HE CAN BARELY REACH HIS OWN EARS. I don't remember the other two boys hugging us so dilerately at such a young age. Andrew's been doing it for weeks now.

This poor child is subjected to more than his fair share of tickling around here... but how can we possibly resist??