I had almost forgotten. I'd been so busy, at work, with the (ahem) events of last weekend, a day off on Friday & cleaning house all day yesterday. Friday & Saturday were gloriously clear & sunny and mild, totally unlike November, which is always grey & dull & dreary in my mind.
But then we stopped off at the cemetery late yesterday afternoon, en route to dinner, as we often do on weekends. And as we got closer, it struck me anew: tomorrow (Monday, November 14th) is Katie's due date. The first one of several I was given, anyway, which is always the one I tend to think about.
She would have been 13 years old this month. In a more perfect universe, I would not have been lolling on the couch all long weekend long, reading my book & catching up on blogs. I would have been planning and hosting a birthday party. For my TEENAGER.
I rarely cry at the cemetery these days, but I shed some tears yesterday, and I've been feeling guilty ever since.
And I've been bracing myself. So far, November hasn't been too bad, but I know from past experience that that is likely to change, as the month wears on, the early darkness envelops me more, and the year-end frenzy continues at the office. I don't think I've missed an annual "I hate November" post yet. ; )
And also because I know what's coming tomorrow. My grandmother-to-be coworker was throwing a baby shower for her daughter this weekend -- took the last few days off to get ready (!). And not only that, but another coworker -- young (26), idealistic, unmarried -- was hosting a baby shower for her best friend on the same day. There's already been lots of shower talk -- what games to play, what decorations to make, etc., etc. -- and I know that will be the prime subject of conversation tomorrow morning.
And of course, it HAS to be TOMORROW morning. :p Such is my lot in life, it seem. :p I feel the first hint of the November blahs settling upon me...
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
11-11-11
(Who couldn't resist posting today, just to use that cool headline?)
Today is Remembrance Day, of course -- the day that fighting ceased in World War I, on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. I have the day off work (yay!) -- nothing special planned. A little cleaning & organizing, maybe; a lot of reading and blog hopping. ; )
I'm thinking about the veterans today, of course -- but I'm also thinking about a friend from first-year university (30+ years ago now, eeek), a neighbour who lived two doors over in my dorm. Her birthday was November 11th, & the number 11 loomed large in her life. She'd look at the clock and the time would invariably be 11 minutes after the hour, for example. It freaked her out.
She was bright and funny and sassy and friendly -- but she was horribly homesick for most of that year. She had a boyfriend back home (whose photos papered half her room) and an adorable baby niece (the other half). He came to visit her (nice guy), & she positively glowed while she was around him. Part-way through the year, they agreed they should try dating other people. She did, but it was obvious her heart wasn't in it. That summer, she called my roommate & told her she was back together with her boyfriend & wasn't coming back in the fall. She was going to live at home & attend the smaller, local university.
Sadly, it wasn't too long before we'd lost touch with her. (Back then, it was harder to keep tabs on people -- long distance was expensive, e-mail and Facebook were still decades away, so if you weren't a good letter writer -- good luck!) But I still think about her, and my old roommate & I still talk about her sometimes when we get together. I've tried Googling her a few times, and haven't found much -- her name is a fairly common one. But I recently tried her old boyfriend's name, & found a lot more -- including their names listed together as a couple in a relative's recent obituary ("survived by..."). So they did get married, & I'm hoping they are living happily ever after. : )
Here's to you, K. I think of you whenever I look at my watch or a clock & it's 11 minutes past the hour.
Today is Remembrance Day, of course -- the day that fighting ceased in World War I, on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. I have the day off work (yay!) -- nothing special planned. A little cleaning & organizing, maybe; a lot of reading and blog hopping. ; )
I'm thinking about the veterans today, of course -- but I'm also thinking about a friend from first-year university (30+ years ago now, eeek), a neighbour who lived two doors over in my dorm. Her birthday was November 11th, & the number 11 loomed large in her life. She'd look at the clock and the time would invariably be 11 minutes after the hour, for example. It freaked her out.
She was bright and funny and sassy and friendly -- but she was horribly homesick for most of that year. She had a boyfriend back home (whose photos papered half her room) and an adorable baby niece (the other half). He came to visit her (nice guy), & she positively glowed while she was around him. Part-way through the year, they agreed they should try dating other people. She did, but it was obvious her heart wasn't in it. That summer, she called my roommate & told her she was back together with her boyfriend & wasn't coming back in the fall. She was going to live at home & attend the smaller, local university.
Sadly, it wasn't too long before we'd lost touch with her. (Back then, it was harder to keep tabs on people -- long distance was expensive, e-mail and Facebook were still decades away, so if you weren't a good letter writer -- good luck!) But I still think about her, and my old roommate & I still talk about her sometimes when we get together. I've tried Googling her a few times, and haven't found much -- her name is a fairly common one. But I recently tried her old boyfriend's name, & found a lot more -- including their names listed together as a couple in a relative's recent obituary ("survived by..."). So they did get married, & I'm hoping they are living happily ever after. : )
Here's to you, K. I think of you whenever I look at my watch or a clock & it's 11 minutes past the hour.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Survived : )
I survived my colonoscopy, and all is well. : ) As most people said, the prep was the worst part, & I would agree -- although I rather suspect that Aunt Flo had a lot to do with making mine that way. Yes, as I suspected/feared -- Aunt Flo, with her impeccable sense of timing, decided to drop by to add to my misery. My one comfort is that, the next time I do this, five or 10 years from now, she should (should!!) be a non-issue.
I started out feeling not too bad & that, "Hey, I can do this!" However, as the long day worse on, I got hungrier, crampier, queasier and increasingly sick of the taste of Gatorade. :p I wound up spending part of the night before on the bathroom floor, worshipping the porcelain goddess, breaking into a cold sweat & feeling like I was about to pass out (poor dh wound up propping me up until I had the strength to crawl back into bed myself) -- and part of the morning at the clinic getting better acquainted with the bathroom THERE before my appointment too. :p Not fun. I actually have a purple mark under one of my eyes -- I think I broke a capillary from all the dry heaving -- eventually, my stomach was so empty there was nothing left to bring up. :(
Once they popped that needle in my hand, though, I was off in LaLa Land. The next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery area. They gave me a small dixie cup of water & some melba toast, & I almost immediately started to feel better. : ) At home, I had tea, toast & a nap, and aside from being very tired, felt almost entirely like myself again by late afternoon. I was back at work again today.
Thanks for all the advice & well wishes!
I started out feeling not too bad & that, "Hey, I can do this!" However, as the long day worse on, I got hungrier, crampier, queasier and increasingly sick of the taste of Gatorade. :p I wound up spending part of the night before on the bathroom floor, worshipping the porcelain goddess, breaking into a cold sweat & feeling like I was about to pass out (poor dh wound up propping me up until I had the strength to crawl back into bed myself) -- and part of the morning at the clinic getting better acquainted with the bathroom THERE before my appointment too. :p Not fun. I actually have a purple mark under one of my eyes -- I think I broke a capillary from all the dry heaving -- eventually, my stomach was so empty there was nothing left to bring up. :(
Once they popped that needle in my hand, though, I was off in LaLa Land. The next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery area. They gave me a small dixie cup of water & some melba toast, & I almost immediately started to feel better. : ) At home, I had tea, toast & a nap, and aside from being very tired, felt almost entirely like myself again by late afternoon. I was back at work again today.
Thanks for all the advice & well wishes!
Thursday, November 3, 2011
And how's YOUR weekend shaping up??
(Warning: this post may contain slightly TMI.)
Sunday morning, I will wake up. I will eat nothing solid all day. I will drink lots of Gatorade and clear fluids, and maybe eat some Jello.
Mid-afternoon, I will take a few tablets. Awhile later, I'll mix a packet of crystals into some water & drink it. And expect to spend some time hanging out in the bathroom with some reading material. Repeat procedure until there's no reason to spend time in the bathroom anymore.
When I wake up early on Monday morning, I will take my blood pressure pill as usual, but with only a small sip of water -- no more. No food, no drink at all. Dh & I will leave the house around the usual time, but instead of driving to the commuter train station, we'll drive into the city.
Monday morning, I'm having a colonsocopy. My first. Woohoo!!
I hasten to write that there is nothing wrong with me that has prompted this procedure (& I am hoping very much that things stay that way, knock wood). The only thing "wrong" with me is that I turned 50 earlier this year, & my family dr generally sends all his patients for their first colonoscopy at this age (unless they have a family history of problems, in which case, you go earlier). If I get a clear bill of health, I won't have to have another one for five years.
Dh had his first colonsocopy a few years ago, & points out, "If I can do it, you can certainly do it!" True -- dh & drs are not a very happy combination. He frets endlessly before each appointment (which I have no doubt made for him) & then until he gets the results. His colonoscopy & even his prep were relatively uneventful -- except for the fact that he didn't react well to the sedative they gave him -- got up before he was supposed to & came out to where I was waiting, then had to make a hasty retreat to the bathroom where he was promptly sick, and spent the next two hours in the recovery area, dozing on & off. He has a note in his file to use a different sedative the next time!
Several of my friends have had them & similarly assure me it's nothing & the prep is the worst part. And a few friends, who have had several procedures over the years, also assure me that even the prep is a lot easier than it was 10-15 years ago.
The last time that a nurse popped a needle into my arm (my wrist, actually) & started the flow of drugs that would lull me into blessed stupification, was August 7, 1998, as I laboured to deliver my small, silent daughter. Demerol, I think it was. I was similarly sedated when I had my wisdom teeth out about 20 years ago, & I was put totally under several times when I was a kid & being checked out for kidney & ureter issues (which thankfully have not been an issue for me as an adult -- but which I now know are very likely co-related to the bicornuate uterus I was diagnosed with during my pregnancy). Maybe that's why I have the slightest case of the jitters as the weekend approaches.
Or maybe I'm just dreading the thought of going through an entire day without food, lol. I can get pretty cranky when I haven't been fed. To add to the fun, Aunt Flo is scheduled to show up sometime within the next several days -- and with her always impeccable sense of timing, you just KNOW it's probably gonna be Sunday night or Monday morning. (The nurse at the clinic assured me that they can still do the colonscopy regardless.) And asprin (including ibuprofen, my usual security blanket that gets me through one of Aunt Flo's visits) is verboten the week before a colonoscopy. Tylenol, maybe??
The silver lining, in my mind? I don't have to go to work! -- at a very busy time of year, lol. (You know I HAVE to be pretty busy & stressed at work to be looking forward to a colonoscopy as an excuse to get out of the office, lol.) Friday (11-11-11) is also Remembrance Day here & a holiday for me, so I will only have a three-day work week. Yay!
I realize that most of you are younger than me & probably haven't reached an age where a colonscopy is part of your regular medical routine -- but have you ever had one? Stories, advice to share?
Sunday morning, I will wake up. I will eat nothing solid all day. I will drink lots of Gatorade and clear fluids, and maybe eat some Jello.
Mid-afternoon, I will take a few tablets. Awhile later, I'll mix a packet of crystals into some water & drink it. And expect to spend some time hanging out in the bathroom with some reading material. Repeat procedure until there's no reason to spend time in the bathroom anymore.
When I wake up early on Monday morning, I will take my blood pressure pill as usual, but with only a small sip of water -- no more. No food, no drink at all. Dh & I will leave the house around the usual time, but instead of driving to the commuter train station, we'll drive into the city.
Monday morning, I'm having a colonsocopy. My first. Woohoo!!
I hasten to write that there is nothing wrong with me that has prompted this procedure (& I am hoping very much that things stay that way, knock wood). The only thing "wrong" with me is that I turned 50 earlier this year, & my family dr generally sends all his patients for their first colonoscopy at this age (unless they have a family history of problems, in which case, you go earlier). If I get a clear bill of health, I won't have to have another one for five years.
Dh had his first colonsocopy a few years ago, & points out, "If I can do it, you can certainly do it!" True -- dh & drs are not a very happy combination. He frets endlessly before each appointment (which I have no doubt made for him) & then until he gets the results. His colonoscopy & even his prep were relatively uneventful -- except for the fact that he didn't react well to the sedative they gave him -- got up before he was supposed to & came out to where I was waiting, then had to make a hasty retreat to the bathroom where he was promptly sick, and spent the next two hours in the recovery area, dozing on & off. He has a note in his file to use a different sedative the next time!
Several of my friends have had them & similarly assure me it's nothing & the prep is the worst part. And a few friends, who have had several procedures over the years, also assure me that even the prep is a lot easier than it was 10-15 years ago.
The last time that a nurse popped a needle into my arm (my wrist, actually) & started the flow of drugs that would lull me into blessed stupification, was August 7, 1998, as I laboured to deliver my small, silent daughter. Demerol, I think it was. I was similarly sedated when I had my wisdom teeth out about 20 years ago, & I was put totally under several times when I was a kid & being checked out for kidney & ureter issues (which thankfully have not been an issue for me as an adult -- but which I now know are very likely co-related to the bicornuate uterus I was diagnosed with during my pregnancy). Maybe that's why I have the slightest case of the jitters as the weekend approaches.
Or maybe I'm just dreading the thought of going through an entire day without food, lol. I can get pretty cranky when I haven't been fed. To add to the fun, Aunt Flo is scheduled to show up sometime within the next several days -- and with her always impeccable sense of timing, you just KNOW it's probably gonna be Sunday night or Monday morning. (The nurse at the clinic assured me that they can still do the colonscopy regardless.) And asprin (including ibuprofen, my usual security blanket that gets me through one of Aunt Flo's visits) is verboten the week before a colonoscopy. Tylenol, maybe??
The silver lining, in my mind? I don't have to go to work! -- at a very busy time of year, lol. (You know I HAVE to be pretty busy & stressed at work to be looking forward to a colonoscopy as an excuse to get out of the office, lol.) Friday (11-11-11) is also Remembrance Day here & a holiday for me, so I will only have a three-day work week. Yay!
I realize that most of you are younger than me & probably haven't reached an age where a colonscopy is part of your regular medical routine -- but have you ever had one? Stories, advice to share?
Monday, October 31, 2011
Blogoversary #4
How's this for scary stuff on Halloween? It's my fourth blogoversary today. : )
I started this blog because, even though I was almost 10 years past Katie's stillbirth and six years past stopping infertility treatments & the decision to remain childless/free, loss & infertility were still a big part of my life, and I felt I still had something to say on these topics.
That was four years, 556 posts ago (including this one). That's an average of 12 posts per month or 3 per week. Not bad.
According to my stats tab, I've had more than 68,000 page views for "all time" -- which is actually just since May 2009. That's pretty wild! My readers are overwhelmingly from the U.S., then my own Canada -- followed by UK, Australia, Germany, Russia, France, Israel, Ukraine & Netherlands. I've received more than 4,400 comments. Without doing an exhaustive search, I'm pretty sure that the post that got the most comments ever -- 63 -- was last year's entry about our 25th wedding anniversary (it was also my Creme de la Creme pick for last year, which boosted my comments somewhat).
My all-time most-read post, without question, is my 2009 review of the movie Julie & Julia. It still continues to be at the top of my hit list, most weeks that I check, and I still get comments on that post too (49 to date) -- often from someone who is not necessarily familiar with the ALI blogging community but who saw the movie, was intrigued by Julia's childlessness and Googled something like "Julia Child childless." Six of my all-time top 10 search key words relate to "Julia Child" paired with either the words "children" or "infertility."
Second in terms of all-time hits is a post was my rerun of a 2008 Globe & Mail article called "Canada's U.S. baby boom," about women with high-risk pregnancies in rural communities being sent to the U.S., because of the lack of space in local high-risk units. My interest was the topic of high-risk pregnancy & the lack of a national birthing plan in general. I couldn't figure out why this particular post drew so many hits, particularly throughout 2009 -- until it hit me that the rise in interest coincided with the U.S. debate over "Obamacare" (!!).
In other words, I suspect my post was being read & passed around by anti-Obamacare forces as an example of the supposed inadequacies of the Canadian healthcare system (&, by implication, the superiority of the U.S. system). This was certainly NOT my intention. I know our system is not perfect -- but I daresay there are women in rural communities in the U.S. who likewise have to travel some distance to get the healthcare they need (not to mention women who are denied the care they need because the hospital doesn't accept their health insurance -- NOT a scenario we ever have to worry about in Canada). Sorry to my American readers -- I would never trade!
I'll admit my output this year has slowed a bit. Blogging is like any kind of writing (including what I do for work) -- sometimes I feel like I'm brimming over with inpiration -- stuff I want to say, & how I want to say it -- & the words just tumble out onto my keyboard; other times, I stare & stare at the screen and nothing clicks. Sometimes there's stuff I'd like to say, but life (and work in particular, and particularly at this time of year) intervenes. (How dare it, right?? lol)
But while I may not have had much time to read or write blog posts lately -- and while I'm now 50 years old and 10 years out from fertility treatments -- I don't feel my interest in this community has waned. I still feel like I have things I want to say. I plan to keep on writing. And although, as I've said before, I primarily blog for myself, it's nice to know that you're out there too, reading & commenting. Thank you!! : )
Blogoversary #3 (2010)
Blogoversary #2 (2009)
Blogoversary #1 (2008)
First post
I started this blog because, even though I was almost 10 years past Katie's stillbirth and six years past stopping infertility treatments & the decision to remain childless/free, loss & infertility were still a big part of my life, and I felt I still had something to say on these topics.
That was four years, 556 posts ago (including this one). That's an average of 12 posts per month or 3 per week. Not bad.
According to my stats tab, I've had more than 68,000 page views for "all time" -- which is actually just since May 2009. That's pretty wild! My readers are overwhelmingly from the U.S., then my own Canada -- followed by UK, Australia, Germany, Russia, France, Israel, Ukraine & Netherlands. I've received more than 4,400 comments. Without doing an exhaustive search, I'm pretty sure that the post that got the most comments ever -- 63 -- was last year's entry about our 25th wedding anniversary (it was also my Creme de la Creme pick for last year, which boosted my comments somewhat).
My all-time most-read post, without question, is my 2009 review of the movie Julie & Julia. It still continues to be at the top of my hit list, most weeks that I check, and I still get comments on that post too (49 to date) -- often from someone who is not necessarily familiar with the ALI blogging community but who saw the movie, was intrigued by Julia's childlessness and Googled something like "Julia Child childless." Six of my all-time top 10 search key words relate to "Julia Child" paired with either the words "children" or "infertility."
Second in terms of all-time hits is a post was my rerun of a 2008 Globe & Mail article called "Canada's U.S. baby boom," about women with high-risk pregnancies in rural communities being sent to the U.S., because of the lack of space in local high-risk units. My interest was the topic of high-risk pregnancy & the lack of a national birthing plan in general. I couldn't figure out why this particular post drew so many hits, particularly throughout 2009 -- until it hit me that the rise in interest coincided with the U.S. debate over "Obamacare" (!!).
In other words, I suspect my post was being read & passed around by anti-Obamacare forces as an example of the supposed inadequacies of the Canadian healthcare system (&, by implication, the superiority of the U.S. system). This was certainly NOT my intention. I know our system is not perfect -- but I daresay there are women in rural communities in the U.S. who likewise have to travel some distance to get the healthcare they need (not to mention women who are denied the care they need because the hospital doesn't accept their health insurance -- NOT a scenario we ever have to worry about in Canada). Sorry to my American readers -- I would never trade!
I'll admit my output this year has slowed a bit. Blogging is like any kind of writing (including what I do for work) -- sometimes I feel like I'm brimming over with inpiration -- stuff I want to say, & how I want to say it -- & the words just tumble out onto my keyboard; other times, I stare & stare at the screen and nothing clicks. Sometimes there's stuff I'd like to say, but life (and work in particular, and particularly at this time of year) intervenes. (How dare it, right?? lol)
But while I may not have had much time to read or write blog posts lately -- and while I'm now 50 years old and 10 years out from fertility treatments -- I don't feel my interest in this community has waned. I still feel like I have things I want to say. I plan to keep on writing. And although, as I've said before, I primarily blog for myself, it's nice to know that you're out there too, reading & commenting. Thank you!! : )
Blogoversary #3 (2010)
Blogoversary #2 (2009)
Blogoversary #1 (2008)
First post
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Fall getaway
I don't know where my blogging mojo has been lately. It seems it's all I can do to keep up lately with work, reading the daily newspapers & maybe a daily scan of Facebook & a couple of posts from my Google Reader. :p Sometimes it feels like I'm brimming over with things I want to write about; other times, I draw a blank.
Year end madness has begun -- I had one day where I had back to back to back to back meetings & barely had time to wolf down half a sandwich. I did have an enjoyable time last weekend with a scrapbooking event on Saturday & visiting a friend who is a quilt appraiser and was working at a nearby quilting show on the Sunday. I don't quilt myself, which is not to say I don't appreciate the work of those who do. And I felt priviliged to be there as she examined a vintage quilt with still-vivid colours that had been painstakingly handstitched by the elderly owner's great-grandmother in the 1850s (!!).
Before the year-end madness fully hit, and just after Canadian Thanksgiving, dh & I did manage to take a week's vacation. I had earmarked that time off thinking that my parents might be coming to visit -- and when they didn't, decided to take it anyway. I insisted to dh that we needed to go somewhere to make it special, & not just hang around the house, as we often do. I had it in my head that we should head up north to a resort to enjoy the fall colours for a few days.
And that's what we wound up doing. For various reasons, we didn't go too far. We wound up going to a resort that's only just a little more than an hour's drive north of us, close to the town where one of my great-grandfathers was born, & where my great-great-great grandparents & one of their daughters are buried in the cemetery adjacent to a beautiful (and beautifully preserved) historic stone church from the 1840s. We had stayed at this resort for our 15th wedding anniversay, 11 years ago, & it was still as we remembered -- charming rooms with beautiful views (loyal as I am to the Prairies where I was born & raised, I must admit, fall in Ontario is gorgeous!!), lots of great places to go walking and exploring, excellent food and the added attraction of gorgeous fall colours. The weather was so nice the day we left that dh wore his shorts & I dug my capris back out of the closet where I had previously sent them for winter storage.
While it's a family resort (& there likely would have been children, had we been there on Thanksgiving weekend), the clientele during our stay were strictly adults, & mostly seniors at that (who else has the time & the money to spend at a place like that, especially in the middle of the week?). It was a wonderful break, & we had a lovely time. Once again, we found ourselves wondering why the heck we don't do this more often. After all, having the time & money to do things like this (particularly on short notice) is one of the "perqs" of childless/free living. As dh said, "Umm, I think we can afford to come here more than once every 10 years." ; )
Here are a few fall photos from our stay:
The entrance to the inn, decked out in seasonal splendour.
Likewise, the entrance at a nearby stone church, which dates back to the mid-1800s.
The church has an adjacent cemetery overlooking Lake Simcoe (dh looking out). What a peaceful place to spend eternity!
Dh enjoying the lake view from the private beach across from the resort where we were staying.
Dh on the resort's dock. The weather was turning cloudier & colder by then.
The entrance to (another) churchyard in the area, where my greatx3 grandparents are buried.
A view of the beautiful trees in the cemetery.
Tree outside the resort, with changing leaves.
Year end madness has begun -- I had one day where I had back to back to back to back meetings & barely had time to wolf down half a sandwich. I did have an enjoyable time last weekend with a scrapbooking event on Saturday & visiting a friend who is a quilt appraiser and was working at a nearby quilting show on the Sunday. I don't quilt myself, which is not to say I don't appreciate the work of those who do. And I felt priviliged to be there as she examined a vintage quilt with still-vivid colours that had been painstakingly handstitched by the elderly owner's great-grandmother in the 1850s (!!).
Before the year-end madness fully hit, and just after Canadian Thanksgiving, dh & I did manage to take a week's vacation. I had earmarked that time off thinking that my parents might be coming to visit -- and when they didn't, decided to take it anyway. I insisted to dh that we needed to go somewhere to make it special, & not just hang around the house, as we often do. I had it in my head that we should head up north to a resort to enjoy the fall colours for a few days.
And that's what we wound up doing. For various reasons, we didn't go too far. We wound up going to a resort that's only just a little more than an hour's drive north of us, close to the town where one of my great-grandfathers was born, & where my great-great-great grandparents & one of their daughters are buried in the cemetery adjacent to a beautiful (and beautifully preserved) historic stone church from the 1840s. We had stayed at this resort for our 15th wedding anniversay, 11 years ago, & it was still as we remembered -- charming rooms with beautiful views (loyal as I am to the Prairies where I was born & raised, I must admit, fall in Ontario is gorgeous!!), lots of great places to go walking and exploring, excellent food and the added attraction of gorgeous fall colours. The weather was so nice the day we left that dh wore his shorts & I dug my capris back out of the closet where I had previously sent them for winter storage.
While it's a family resort (& there likely would have been children, had we been there on Thanksgiving weekend), the clientele during our stay were strictly adults, & mostly seniors at that (who else has the time & the money to spend at a place like that, especially in the middle of the week?). It was a wonderful break, & we had a lovely time. Once again, we found ourselves wondering why the heck we don't do this more often. After all, having the time & money to do things like this (particularly on short notice) is one of the "perqs" of childless/free living. As dh said, "Umm, I think we can afford to come here more than once every 10 years." ; )
Here are a few fall photos from our stay:
The entrance to the inn, decked out in seasonal splendour.
Likewise, the entrance at a nearby stone church, which dates back to the mid-1800s.
The church has an adjacent cemetery overlooking Lake Simcoe (dh looking out). What a peaceful place to spend eternity!
Dh enjoying the lake view from the private beach across from the resort where we were staying.
Dh on the resort's dock. The weather was turning cloudier & colder by then.
The entrance to (another) churchyard in the area, where my greatx3 grandparents are buried.
A view of the beautiful trees in the cemetery.
Tree outside the resort, with changing leaves.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Controversial article
Has anyone else seen this recent Salon article, "My stillborn child's life after death"? What did you think of it?
OK, I'll admit, the part about taking the baby in a sling for a walk to the park seemed a little bizarre. Not something I would have done. I kept wondering what would have happened if one of the other moms at the playground wanted to take a peek & admire the baby.
But on the whole, I found myself applauding these parents for saying goodbye on their terms, not to mention the funeral director who encouraged them to do so. And maybe just a little bit envious.
I especially liked this line: "This was when I understood: Thor was our baby. He did not belong to the hospital. He did not belong to the funeral home. He was ours." It has taken a long, long time for hospitals and funeral homes to start acting like they understand this. Given the silence that still exists around stillbirth and pregnancy loss, it's something that many bereaved parents don't realize until it is far too late.
It brought back memories of when my grandfather died -- almost exactly 13 years ago this week. I never got to see him again. Before I could arrive for his memorial service, his body was sent away to be cremated. His ashes were returned to us a few days later, after the memorial service had already been held. Returned IN THE MAIL. US Postal Service. (Tell me THAT's not undignified.) I don't remember what the postage was (!) but I can still remember my mom coming into my grandparents' apartment with the parcel under her arm, wiping her eyes. "Here's Grandpa, home for the last time," she sobbed.
My immediate thought? "Oh, and we don't even have his chair here for him!" I said. My grandparents had been living at the seniors care home in town, but we had kept their apartment, partly as a place to stay when we went to visit. Mom had wanted to move Grandpa's easy chair to their room at the home, but he wouldn't hear of it. I think he knew that would mean that he really wasn't going back to the apartment. After he was gone, we took it up there for Grandma to use.
Anyway, it might have seemed weird to some people to give a container of ashes the place of honour in an easy chair. But that's what felt right to me at the time, and I wish we had been able to do it.
Later that afternoon, under gloriously clear & sunny Prairie skies, Mom & I set the container of ashes between us in the front of the car. Together with some other family members, we took Grandpa home, to the site of the farm where he had grown up and, as he had wanted, scattered his ashes on the land that he loved, taking turns reading the service from his mother's Book of Common Prayer. "I love you, Grandpa," I said, as I let a handful of the ashes slide through my fingers. A few generations ago, doing something like that no doubt would have been controversial too.
If you read the article, beware the comments. Some of them are truly awful. It's so obvious that people really don't understand until they have lived through this themselves.
OK, I'll admit, the part about taking the baby in a sling for a walk to the park seemed a little bizarre. Not something I would have done. I kept wondering what would have happened if one of the other moms at the playground wanted to take a peek & admire the baby.
But on the whole, I found myself applauding these parents for saying goodbye on their terms, not to mention the funeral director who encouraged them to do so. And maybe just a little bit envious.
I especially liked this line: "This was when I understood: Thor was our baby. He did not belong to the hospital. He did not belong to the funeral home. He was ours." It has taken a long, long time for hospitals and funeral homes to start acting like they understand this. Given the silence that still exists around stillbirth and pregnancy loss, it's something that many bereaved parents don't realize until it is far too late.
It brought back memories of when my grandfather died -- almost exactly 13 years ago this week. I never got to see him again. Before I could arrive for his memorial service, his body was sent away to be cremated. His ashes were returned to us a few days later, after the memorial service had already been held. Returned IN THE MAIL. US Postal Service. (Tell me THAT's not undignified.) I don't remember what the postage was (!) but I can still remember my mom coming into my grandparents' apartment with the parcel under her arm, wiping her eyes. "Here's Grandpa, home for the last time," she sobbed.
My immediate thought? "Oh, and we don't even have his chair here for him!" I said. My grandparents had been living at the seniors care home in town, but we had kept their apartment, partly as a place to stay when we went to visit. Mom had wanted to move Grandpa's easy chair to their room at the home, but he wouldn't hear of it. I think he knew that would mean that he really wasn't going back to the apartment. After he was gone, we took it up there for Grandma to use.
Anyway, it might have seemed weird to some people to give a container of ashes the place of honour in an easy chair. But that's what felt right to me at the time, and I wish we had been able to do it.
Later that afternoon, under gloriously clear & sunny Prairie skies, Mom & I set the container of ashes between us in the front of the car. Together with some other family members, we took Grandpa home, to the site of the farm where he had grown up and, as he had wanted, scattered his ashes on the land that he loved, taking turns reading the service from his mother's Book of Common Prayer. "I love you, Grandpa," I said, as I let a handful of the ashes slide through my fingers. A few generations ago, doing something like that no doubt would have been controversial too.
If you read the article, beware the comments. Some of them are truly awful. It's so obvious that people really don't understand until they have lived through this themselves.
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