I stopped at the department store counter of a well-known cosmetics brand this week at lunchtime. My favourite swivel-up eye pencil broke off/ran out, mid-makeup, as I was rushing to get ready & out the door for work that morning -- thereby setting the tone for the rest of my day :p -- and I wanted to pick up another. I'm one of the counter manager's best and longest-running customers. How long? I have a business card from her with an appointment written on it that dates back to 1991 (!!).
"I'm thinking about retiring," she said to me quietly, as she wrapped up my purchase and looked around to see if any of her coworkers were listening. "I'm 60 now, and I've been here 25 years. Most of the girls these days don't stay more than two or three. I hate to say it, but I'm not as young as I used to be. It's hard spending all day on my feet, and I want to spend more time with my granddaughter."
I told her I could relate. (Well, not to the granddaughter part, obviously, but generally.)
Without going into all the gory details, there has been much change afoot at my workplace. (Again.) We've all been told we have to "step up our game." And while I have been trying to adapt, and have never been rated a less than satisfactory performer before this point, I fear that, lately, I am not stepping high nor fast enough to suit some of the powers that be. :( As another "older" coworker noted at a recent meeting where we were discussing the prospect of yet more changes, "we all know that change is a given these days, but over time, it does take a toll."
Yes. Yes, it does.
(Which is a long & roundabout explanation/excuse, at least in part, as to why I haven't been writing (or reading, or commenting) much lately. Apologies.)
*** *** ***
Also on the work-related front, pg coworker is off work again. She is actually "working from home," although I'm sure her dr would have done the paperwork to put her on short-term disability. Even so, it's been a bit lonely at the office. And busy, especially with vacation season kicking in.
We're hoping to lure her into the office next week for a surprise baby shower. It's actually a joint baby shower -- two of the guys in our office are also about to become new dads. Would you believe I'm on the planning committee?? (As one of just three people on our immediate team, including our mutual senior manager, I figured I would be conspicuous by my absence.) I was secretly hoping the shower would take place while I was away on vacation, but no such luck...
One of the managers, about my age, actually wondered whether we should wait to have the shower until the baby is born. A few people said, "Why??" in puzzlement and there was an awkward pause as some of us, who are old enough to know that not all babies come home, particularly from a high risk pregnancy, exchanged glances.
I weighed in by saying, in a light-hearted way, that having a shower later was fun because we might get to see the baby -- but it was nice at any time to know that your friends want to wish you well and celebrate with you.
I still think about my own baby shower sometimes -- planned, but never held. All I have is an invitation. I would have liked to have had, if not the presents (they would never have been used anyway), definitely the memories...
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Thanks, Doc
We said goodbye to our family dr this week. He's retiring at the end of the month -- winding down his practice & selling the building where his office is located, not too far from where we lived when we were first married. The company that a friend worked for (headquartered in the area at the time) used to refer its employees to him; as newlyweds, some (gulp) 29 years ago, when we asked the friend if they could recommend a family dr, they sent us to him, and we've been there ever since.
Doc is older than my father (!) -- in his mid-70s. We knew this was coming, sooner rather than later, but it's one of those things you push out of your mind (like the cartoon: fingers in ears, "lalalala...") because you just don't want to think about it, and it was a shock when we finally got the call to start looking for a new dr.
That, of course, is easier said than done. Family drs -- who are taking new patients (let alone GOOD ones) -- are like gold these days, it seems -- both in small towns, where my parents live, and in big cities & suburbs like ours. Fortunately, a few new clinics have opened recently to meet the needs of the rapidly growing suburbs where we live. There's one near us that is expanding its practice with several new drs, and we have a "meet & greet" scheduled later this week with one of them. Fingers crossed...!
While I do wish Family Dr. had taken my concerns about not getting pregnant sooner more seriously, I cannot hold that against him, because on balance, he's been a damned good doctor in so many other ways. When I did get pg, he was delighted (in his own quiet way). He referred me to my excellent Dr. Ob-gyn -- who had delivered his own two sons (and referred us to other excellent specialists for other assorted issues over the years). When I called him, concerned about spotting, he called me at home to check on how I was doing; when I lost Katie, he also called me at home -- not the first time he called us at home to check in on us when we weren't feeling well. When I showed up at his office out of the blue in the throes of a post-failed-IUI panic attack (13 years ago tomorrow, as matter of fact...), he got his receptionist to give me one of her own Ativan pills on the spot, wrote me a prescription for more, & told me it was no wonder, I'd been through one major life disappointment after another lately.
It's not just him -- he's had the same receptionist and nurse -- his wife! -- for years; we're going to miss them too. His wife hugged us both; I got all teary and I think she did too, a little. It must be hard for them; we only have to say goodbye once but they are doing it every time a patient walks in these last few weeks.
Thanks, Doc (& staff). Happy retirement!
Doc is older than my father (!) -- in his mid-70s. We knew this was coming, sooner rather than later, but it's one of those things you push out of your mind (like the cartoon: fingers in ears, "lalalala...") because you just don't want to think about it, and it was a shock when we finally got the call to start looking for a new dr.
That, of course, is easier said than done. Family drs -- who are taking new patients (let alone GOOD ones) -- are like gold these days, it seems -- both in small towns, where my parents live, and in big cities & suburbs like ours. Fortunately, a few new clinics have opened recently to meet the needs of the rapidly growing suburbs where we live. There's one near us that is expanding its practice with several new drs, and we have a "meet & greet" scheduled later this week with one of them. Fingers crossed...!
While I do wish Family Dr. had taken my concerns about not getting pregnant sooner more seriously, I cannot hold that against him, because on balance, he's been a damned good doctor in so many other ways. When I did get pg, he was delighted (in his own quiet way). He referred me to my excellent Dr. Ob-gyn -- who had delivered his own two sons (and referred us to other excellent specialists for other assorted issues over the years). When I called him, concerned about spotting, he called me at home to check on how I was doing; when I lost Katie, he also called me at home -- not the first time he called us at home to check in on us when we weren't feeling well. When I showed up at his office out of the blue in the throes of a post-failed-IUI panic attack (13 years ago tomorrow, as matter of fact...), he got his receptionist to give me one of her own Ativan pills on the spot, wrote me a prescription for more, & told me it was no wonder, I'd been through one major life disappointment after another lately.
It's not just him -- he's had the same receptionist and nurse -- his wife! -- for years; we're going to miss them too. His wife hugged us both; I got all teary and I think she did too, a little. It must be hard for them; we only have to say goodbye once but they are doing it every time a patient walks in these last few weeks.
Thanks, Doc (& staff). Happy retirement!
Sunday, June 8, 2014
"The Fault in Our Stars" (the movie)
It was opening weekend & I was afraid the theatre would be crawling with teenaged girls. Surprisingly, it wasn't crawling (it WAS early Sunday afternoon), but the audience WAS mostly teenaged girls -- including an entire rowful, a few rows ahead of us -- feet up on the seats in front of them, cellphones in hand, a few of them wearing "Okay? Okay." T-shirts. . A couple of teenaged boys arrived just before the show started & sat right behind them, kicking the seats & generally being annoying. Aside from a chorus of giggles & sniffles in the appropriate places, though, they (fortunately) weren't too disruptive and the comic relief was a nice balance between the sad story that unfolded on screen. (We were probably the oldest people in the theatre, though -- erk!!)
"I think you & I cried more than they did," dh commented. (He liked it!)
"That's because we can relate both as former teenagers AND as parents facing the imminent loss of a child," I pointed out. When Laura Dern, as Hazel's mother (!!), reassures Hazel that "I will ALWAYS be your mother" (even after Hazel dies, as she surely will), we held hands a little tighter.
I generally find movie adaptations of the books I love disappointing... but I'm happy to say this mostly lived up to my expectations & hopes, moreso than most movie adaptations do. The acting is uniformly superb, particularly from Shailene Woodley, who I'm willing to bet has an Oscar somewhere in her future (she was already nominated for her role as George Clooney's daughter in "The Descendants"). Ansel Elgort as Gus is a real charmer; it is easy to see why Hazel falls for him. Amsterdam was magical. I shed almost as many tears during the scenes in Anne Frank House as I did during Isaac & Hazel's eulogies. I found the initial support group scenes even funnier than they read in the book.
There are a few things missing in translation from the book to the movie. Gus's parents don't get much screentime; his sisters are entirely absent, as is Hazel's friend Caitlin, and a lot of the poetry that I loved in the book is missing. Hazel's backyard swingset is there and then it's gone at the end, without explanation. The important stuff was all there, though.
The one jarring note for me is that I had pictured Van Houten's assistant as a middle-aged, motherly woman. Here, she's young and extremely pretty. And speaks excellent, almost completely unaccented English. It wasn't bad, just something I didn't expect.
So you have two thumbs up from me & dh. Go and see it (but you really should read the book first). And take Kleenex -- you'll need it.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Stillbirth: It happens here too
Our illustrious prime minister hosted a big conference in Toronto this week. The subject? Maternal and infant health -- not in Canada, but on a global scale. (Apparently, in PM's definition, "maternal health" does not include family planning or abortion services... but that is not the subject of this particular rant.)
The PM pledged a further $3.5 billion in funding for an initiative first announced in 2010 at the G-20 & G-8 summits in Toronto & Muskoka. Luminaries such as Melinda Gates and Queen Rania of Jordan appeared at the PM's side in support. The tagline was "Saving every woman, every child."
While the program's goals are noble, and there is certainly an urgent need for better maternal & child health programs in developing countries (please don't get me wrong) -- I just wish someone would at least acknowledge in passing that there are (still) mothers and babies who need saving in our own country.
I have read a number of news articles and seen a number of TV reports about this initiative over the last few days, which detail the sad state of affairs in the developing world and quote global maternal & infant mortality statistics and stillbirths -- but I have not seen ONE mention of the state of maternal and infant health in Canada, and the statistics for child and maternal mortality and stillbirth here.
The other morning, I listened to a radio interview with a doctor involved in one of the program initiatives, talking about the huge numbers of women and babies around the world who die during pregnancy, childbirth or the first months of life. The dr told the story of a complicated delivery here in Canada, which would certainly have ended in tragedy in the mother's home country. The host brought it up again around the 4:30 mark: "[In Canada) There could be some complications, it happens, but everybody is healthy & well." (Ummm, EVERYBODY??)
And then, at the very end (around 5:50) in a tone of surprise: "Around the world, 2.6 million babies are stillborn every year... and a large majority of those are because the mother wasn't cared for."
Well, golly gee, babies are stillborn? In this day & age? -- imagine that. :p
During my pregnancy, I was cared for at one of the top hospitals in my city, one of the best in Canada. And my baby still died.
(And just because we live in Canada doesn't mean that care could not be improved. I heard a few hair-raising stories, as a perinatal loss support group facilitator, that were lawsuit worthy.)(Some of these parents did pursue legal action. Most were unsuccessful.)
Yes, the numbers of maternal & infant deaths and stillbirths here are, thankfully, much, much lower when compared to developing countries. But that doesn't mean it doesn't happen here. It does. I am proof. And I know I am far from alone.
The hard, cold fact is that sometimes, even in first-world countries like Canada and the United States with the most excellent care, babies (and even some mothers) still die -- some for no apparent reason.
And I think what bothers me the most is that coverage like this, which focuses on the developing world (because things are just great at home and we are SO much more advanced...) just reinforces the illusion held by most people -- those lucky enough not to have experienced perinatal loss in their own families -- that stillbirth, neonatal death and, yes, maternal death during or shortly after childbirth, are things happen elsewhere -- in third world countries. Certainly not in Canada, or the United States. Right?
And commonly held misconceptions like that only increase the feelings of shock and guilt and isolation that parents feel when they DO experience a loss.
What do you think?
The PM pledged a further $3.5 billion in funding for an initiative first announced in 2010 at the G-20 & G-8 summits in Toronto & Muskoka. Luminaries such as Melinda Gates and Queen Rania of Jordan appeared at the PM's side in support. The tagline was "Saving every woman, every child."
While the program's goals are noble, and there is certainly an urgent need for better maternal & child health programs in developing countries (please don't get me wrong) -- I just wish someone would at least acknowledge in passing that there are (still) mothers and babies who need saving in our own country.
I have read a number of news articles and seen a number of TV reports about this initiative over the last few days, which detail the sad state of affairs in the developing world and quote global maternal & infant mortality statistics and stillbirths -- but I have not seen ONE mention of the state of maternal and infant health in Canada, and the statistics for child and maternal mortality and stillbirth here.
The other morning, I listened to a radio interview with a doctor involved in one of the program initiatives, talking about the huge numbers of women and babies around the world who die during pregnancy, childbirth or the first months of life. The dr told the story of a complicated delivery here in Canada, which would certainly have ended in tragedy in the mother's home country. The host brought it up again around the 4:30 mark: "[In Canada) There could be some complications, it happens, but everybody is healthy & well." (Ummm, EVERYBODY??)
And then, at the very end (around 5:50) in a tone of surprise: "Around the world, 2.6 million babies are stillborn every year... and a large majority of those are because the mother wasn't cared for."
Well, golly gee, babies are stillborn? In this day & age? -- imagine that. :p
During my pregnancy, I was cared for at one of the top hospitals in my city, one of the best in Canada. And my baby still died.
(And just because we live in Canada doesn't mean that care could not be improved. I heard a few hair-raising stories, as a perinatal loss support group facilitator, that were lawsuit worthy.)(Some of these parents did pursue legal action. Most were unsuccessful.)
Yes, the numbers of maternal & infant deaths and stillbirths here are, thankfully, much, much lower when compared to developing countries. But that doesn't mean it doesn't happen here. It does. I am proof. And I know I am far from alone.
The hard, cold fact is that sometimes, even in first-world countries like Canada and the United States with the most excellent care, babies (and even some mothers) still die -- some for no apparent reason.
And I think what bothers me the most is that coverage like this, which focuses on the developing world (because things are just great at home and we are SO much more advanced...) just reinforces the illusion held by most people -- those lucky enough not to have experienced perinatal loss in their own families -- that stillbirth, neonatal death and, yes, maternal death during or shortly after childbirth, are things happen elsewhere -- in third world countries. Certainly not in Canada, or the United States. Right?
And commonly held misconceptions like that only increase the feelings of shock and guilt and isolation that parents feel when they DO experience a loss.
What do you think?
Monday, May 12, 2014
Playing the Mom Card
As I was still trying
to shake off the Voldemort Day hangover this morning, I ran across an interesting post
on the New York Times’s Motherlode blog. Guest blogger Bettina Elias Siegel was
recently named to an online women’s magazine’s list of the “Top 15 Most
Important Moms in the Food Industry.” But when a fellow food-policy advocate –
a childless/free woman – responded to her tweet about the award with the comment, “Congrats.
Does having a cat count?” it ignited a Twitter debate about the fairness of
recognizing “moms” over women without children (or, for that matter, fathers).
Siegel admits the
term “mommy blogger” drives her nuts, since it’s often used by critics in a
disparaging, minimizing manner. However, she acknowledges, “sometimes I even quite
knowingly play the Mom Card to advance my goals,” even though her professional
credentials alone would more than qualify her to comment on food policy matters.
“Motherhood and
activism often go hand-in-hand for a reason,” Siegel argues. “From Mothers
Against Drunk Driving to the Vietnam-era Another Mother for Peace, to the
post-Sandy Hook Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America, mothers have often
been the “accidental activists” who have led our country forward. But for many
founders of these and other successful, mom-led campaigns, the personal became
the political only when a societal problem affected, or was poised to affect,
their own children.
“In my case, the
flaws in our food system didn’t truly hit home until my own children came along…
Motherhood doesn’t lend me any special moral authority in addressing those
issues, but it has driven them home in a uniquely profound way… a child’s
primary caregiver (and in our country, that’s still almost always the mom) can
share insights that others can never acquire firsthand.”
I would agree that
having a personal stake in the issue at hand can be a terrific motivator. When
did any of *us* pay much attention to infertility or pregnancy loss (or
the marginalization of the childless/free perspective, for that matter) until it
happened to us, or at least to someone we were close to?
But I don't think that moms or parents have a monopoly on (or even a great inclination toward) this kind of insight & motivation & activism. Many activists & influential public figures don't have children -- some as a deliberate choice, in order to fully devote themselves to their chosen cause(s). (Gloria Steinem, Mother Teresa, Oprah Winfrey and Ashley Judd spring to mind, off the top of my head. Heck, even Anna Jarvis -- the founder of Mother's Day -- did not have any children of her own.)
As one early commenter noted, “Where I think
the "Mom Card" label probably chafes some people is when it's used as a "trump
card"-- as in, I'm a mother so my opinion counts more.”
Read the whole column -- what do you think? When (if ever) are moms justified in playing
the “Mom Card”?
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Voldemort Day 2014
(Voldemort Day = The Day Which Shall Not Be Named)(lol)
What sucked:
Post-Voldemort Day ramblings 2012
You-Know-What Day (2011)
Mother's Day 2010
Pre-MDay 2009
Mother's Day 2009 (Baptism)
Mother's Day 2008
Pre-MDay 2008
What sucked:
- Being reminded (over & over again) that I'm not a mom.
- Seeing the umpteen photos of happy moms & their kids on Facebook.
- Feeling like the odd woman out (not for the first time in my life, and not just for this reason).
- Thinking about my stillborn baby girl, and how happy I was the Mother's Day that I was expecting her.
- Thinking about the mother-in-law who died at the far-too-young age of 53 (same age I am now) before I was ever able to meet her.
- Feeling sad/guilty that I don't live closer to my own mom.
- Listening to the stupid neighbourhood dogs barking nonstop all day long. :p
- No movies playing that I really wanted to see (my usual choice of Voldemort Day avoidance activity).
- Going to Tim Hortons for breakfast sandwiches in lieu of brunch at a nice restaurant (didn't want to endure the lineups nor the hordes of happy families) -- the one thing I ASKED to do today and was looking forward to -- and not only was the steeped tea machine broken (?!) we were told we had to wait 10 minutes to get hash browns with our combos. AFTER we had already paid for the combos. We finished our sandwiches, waited a few more minutes (well more than 10) & left without ever getting the hash browns. :p (Most Timmys are pretty good/reliable, but this one has been particularly slow every time we've been there.)
- Knowing that it's back to work tomorrow. :p
- Getting cyberhugs from special online friends.
- Having a cousin send me a unexpected special message via Facebook. (Her brother & sister-in-law lost their first baby too.)
- Seeing photos of my friends with their own moms, some of them vintage.
- Despite the lack of steeped tea & hash browns, the breakfast sandwich at Timmy's WAS good (& hot). :)
- Going to the mall for awhile after Timmy's and indulging in a little retail therapy. ;)
- Enjoying the smaller-than-usual crowds... except (lol)...
- Giggling at the long lineup of desperate last-minute shoppers outside the Pandora store.
- Gorgeous weather (about time...!!).
- Having the windows open, with fresh air & sunshine filling the house (something I don't get to enjoy as much on weekdays when I'm at work).
- Wearing capris & sandals for the first time this season. :)
- A favourite pork chop & rice casserole for dinner.
- Dessert: salted caramel Haagen Dasz ice cream bar. :)
- Spending a lazy afternoon on the couch with my laptop and the Sunday New York Times.
- Looking forward to a four-day work week and an extra long weekend coming up. :)
Post-Voldemort Day ramblings 2012
You-Know-What Day (2011)
Mother's Day 2010
Pre-MDay 2009
Mother's Day 2009 (Baptism)
Mother's Day 2008
Pre-MDay 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2014
"Twin Sisters"
Dh & I stayed up last night to watch a fascinating, award-winning documentary on CBC News Network. "Twin Sisters" is about two couples -- one from Sacramento, California, and one from a remote, tiny village in Norway -- who both travelled to China at the same time in 2004 to adopt babies from the same orphanage -- and through sheer coincidence, met, and eventually learned the baby girls they had adopted were in fact identical twin sisters.
The girls are being raised by their respective families in California and Norway -- but despite the geographic and language barriers, the families have maintained contact over the years and have travelled to visit each other. The documentary follows the California family on a visit to Norway -- just the second time the girls have met since they were adopted in China. It was both heartwarming and heartbreaking to watch.
I keep wondering what bright bureaucrat in China made the decision to separate the girls (they probably though nobody would ever be the wiser), and how amazed their birth parents would be to find out what has happened to them. I sympathize with both sets of parents, who desperately wanted a baby, tackled the complex (and expensive) solution of international adoption -- and then found themselves facing yet another huge complication and dilemma. The Norwegian mother admits she hesitated to make contact initially, fearing the American parents would try to get custody of both twins.
Instead, both families have opened their hearts and homes to ensure their daughters grow up knowing each other. The girls speak frankly about missing each other when they're apart, and watching the American family's departure at the Norwegian airport had me reaching for the Kleenex box.
It would be interesting to do a sequel in another 10 years or so and find out what has happened, whether the families have continued to remain close, how the girls feel about their unusual upbringing. I think the families have made the best of a very complicated and difficult situation.
The documentary is available online for a limited time to viewers in Canada, here. You can also find clips on YouTube (albeit some appear to be in Norwegian!!).
I was reminded of a book I read several years ago by and about Elyse Schein and Paula Bernstein -- identical twin sisters who were adopted separately and then learned of each other's existence and reunited as adults. It's called Identical Strangers. Well worth a read.
The girls are being raised by their respective families in California and Norway -- but despite the geographic and language barriers, the families have maintained contact over the years and have travelled to visit each other. The documentary follows the California family on a visit to Norway -- just the second time the girls have met since they were adopted in China. It was both heartwarming and heartbreaking to watch.
I keep wondering what bright bureaucrat in China made the decision to separate the girls (they probably though nobody would ever be the wiser), and how amazed their birth parents would be to find out what has happened to them. I sympathize with both sets of parents, who desperately wanted a baby, tackled the complex (and expensive) solution of international adoption -- and then found themselves facing yet another huge complication and dilemma. The Norwegian mother admits she hesitated to make contact initially, fearing the American parents would try to get custody of both twins.
Instead, both families have opened their hearts and homes to ensure their daughters grow up knowing each other. The girls speak frankly about missing each other when they're apart, and watching the American family's departure at the Norwegian airport had me reaching for the Kleenex box.
It would be interesting to do a sequel in another 10 years or so and find out what has happened, whether the families have continued to remain close, how the girls feel about their unusual upbringing. I think the families have made the best of a very complicated and difficult situation.
The documentary is available online for a limited time to viewers in Canada, here. You can also find clips on YouTube (albeit some appear to be in Norwegian!!).
I was reminded of a book I read several years ago by and about Elyse Schein and Paula Bernstein -- identical twin sisters who were adopted separately and then learned of each other's existence and reunited as adults. It's called Identical Strangers. Well worth a read.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)