Thursday, March 19, 2009

Because analogies don't get old

One year ago today, I rushed to take this picture (In my official birthing shirt that reads: Give Peas a Chance):


It was, I thought, my last day as a pregnant woman and I figured I'd have only this chance to capture my horrible hair and fat thighs, er, wait no, my beautiful round belly, ripe with the promise of the arrival of our first born.

My water had broke, the first twinges of contractions had started (in retrospect, they really were nothing) and I was cautiously optimistic that baby was on her way. I knew, in the back of my mind that your water is NOT supposed to break first and that this labour was already not going as I had hoped, but heck, I'd never done it before; I was excited. So excited.

Fast forward three days, and yes, we welcomed Chou. But in the meantime, this picture marks the beginning of three very eventful, very lovely, very not so lovely days before Chou finally arrived.

This year, I sit on the edge of another new beginning: building a new life in a new city that I've only visited now and again. We know no one there, unlike our move to Ottawa when we had a few contacts. But as word gets out of where we're going, the contacts are pouring in. Regina is in the west, and the west is friendly. We're going to have no trouble meeting friends and friends of friends, building our social network. We're also going to be able to afford a real house, with room for family and friends to crash and feel at home. And we're only going to be six hours from my family, and much closer to Mr. Wumpus's mummy's side too.

This new adventure's pain is more of the admin variety. The cleaning, the purging, the paperwork, the balancing keeping the Chou entertained and out of the way while we get it all done.

But there's also the pain of giving up our social network here. This really has become our home in so many ways. I consider myself very blessed to have the woman who first held Chou and delivered her safely here to now be one of my closest friends and my running mate. Two of my mummy friends are like sisters in so many ways. And then there's Jolene, who I've known for years and years and only recently really got to know and love. I'm going to miss them all.

But as with any labour, there's a great reward at the end, and we Wumpus (plural?) are over the moon to be heading to the Queen City, and are ready to make it home.

The most unfortunate thing is that while my birthing of Chou meant I lost 20 lb in a hurry, I have a feeling this new beginning will have the opposite effect. Restaurant food for three weeks? Um, oh dear.

P.S.: Happy Birthday to Farmer Lynda. Stay 29 forever, OK? That's what I'm doing.

1 comment:

coach jen said...

I remember getting that phone call! Dude, but were you not wearing pants when you called me?

So if Farmer Lynda is 29 forever does that mean I'm 31 forever? Gross.