Drum Roll Please...

This is the unveiling of this year's Anniversary Photo. And, in true form it is being posted with the earlier photos, because it's the comparing that is the fun part, really.

Warren & I are both really grateful that we were able to take the photo this year, despite the sadness in our hearts. We both agree that we look a bit more worse for wear this year, and maybe a bit older too. But our anniversary came at a difficult time and that is bound to happen sometimes.

Happy 2nd Wedding Anniversary Warren. I love you so much.

2008:
2007:
2006:
I'd like to give a special Thank You to Tiff & Rob who took the photo for us this year. Your attention to detail was great, not to mention how 'into it' you were. Rob, you were a fantastic continuity/details guy, and Tiff, you are a very talented photographer. Don't be surprised if we ask you again next year. Hey - any reason to take you two out for breakfast is a good one to me.

Timeline To A Broken Heart

Two weeks ago Warren & I were so looking forward to today. Today was going to be the day of our very first ultrasound, where we would see our little Paris Baby for the first time. We'd see a little heart pounding away, and we'd squeeze each other's hand and burst inside with joy. I would dream about telling everyone at work, and I couldn't wait to announce it on this Blog. I can't count how many times I created our 'expecting a baby' ticker, just so that I could look at the happy little cartoon baby smiling happily at the 8/9/10/11 weeks mark. We were so close to 12 weeks, and I just wanted it to be here.

Then Sunday came, June 22nd, and I started bleeding.

This was followed by a trip to emergency, 2 days of rest, positive encouragement from friends & family, an ultrasound, an OB appointment, blood tests, and, ultimately, the devastating news that Paris Baby had stopped growing around the 7 week mark. That moment will stick with me forever.

This news was followed by the most devastating and hurt-filled days of our lives, including painful & exhausting phone calls to our parents.

Since then, my days have been filled with so many experiences that I never ever expected I would have to deal with.

I honestly just don't have the energy to describe these experiences right now, probably because they are still so raw, and probably because I know they are not necessarily over. Maybe it will turn out that I never want to talk about them on my blog. Time will tell.

There is one, very, very painful thing I am mulling over in my mind though, that involves this blog.

During my pregnancy, like any normal pregnant blogger, I was writing posts about my experience of being pregnant for the first time. I wrote about the moment when we found out we were pregnant. I wrote letters to the tiny baby inside me. I described the moments when we told our families and friends. I wrote about my fears and feelings at the time. All of these experiences and posts hold such an important place in my heart, but at the same time they magnify the deep hole that has been left behind.

When I first asked Warren what he thought I should do with the posts, his first reaction was that I should delete them. But I can't do that. I explained to him that this was our first pregnancy. That all those experiences and feelings that came with a first pregnancy will never be replicated. Ever. That experience was real, and just because we didn't end up with a baby doesn't mean we should erase them.

Because even now, I look back at what amazing moments we had - all of them - even the ones I didn't post about. Like the time we went stroller shopping and Warren was asking all the questions and doing the test-drives because he was the one who had done all the stroller research. Or the time we were in the kitchen and Warren was washing dishes while I read baby-raising articles out loud from the kitchen table, and we would discuss them afterwards and talk about how helpful they were and how we couldn't wait to put some of the ideas into practice. Or the time I was downstairs watching 'Silence of the Lambs' and Warren came down and said 'Hey, do you think you should be doing that? You might be scaring the baby'.

So, for me, the only options are a) keep them as drafts, or b) post them.

I'm leaning towards option b, however I worry that it will come across as extremely morbid and creepy. But I feel like I'd be doing our lost baby a disservice by ignoring the short-term happiness and closeness it brought us. Because we truly loved this baby.

Telling The Girls, Telling My Boss

This has been the week of 'letting it out', and aside from the tiny little voice in my head that is STILL warning me that something could still go wrong, it is feeling pretty good.

On Monday I told my 'girlfriends', all of whom now have children. We were having dinner at Earl's and it was time to go around the table and order drinks. I said I was still deciding, to ensure that everyone else went before me. I wanted to be last.

They all ordered their delicious wines, and then it came to my turn.

Amanda: Do you have margaritas?

Waiter: Yup.

Amanda: Okay, well I'd like a lime margarita, BUT - it's REALLY important that it be a VIRGIN.

As I said these words (much louder and slower than normal) I could see all of their heads slowly turning towards me as I ordered. Then their mouths dropped.

Girls: Really? Really? Yay!

I think once the waiter clued in, he said 'nice work!' and congratulated me.

It was very fun. It's such an amazing feeling to see the genuine excitement in my friends, who are just plain happy for us.

And today at work, it was time for my annual performance review. I knew this was the perfect opportunity to tell my boss (assuming the review went well that is!). And it did go well. Once it was over, I worked up the courage to tell her.

Amanda: So before we end this, there's just one other thing I want to chat about, because it does effect all this stuff a bit." Pause. "And, it's kind of big".

Boss: Small grin appears on her face. "Are you pregnant?!"

Amanda: Yes I am!

And she was great about it. Very positive & supportive and genuine. I'm loving this pregnancy business so far, I must say.

Tomorrow, Grandma is in town and we're telling her in person. Giddy Up!

Letter To Paris Baby #3

Dear Paris Baby,


Today is Father's Day and a few more people know about you now. Four more people to be exact, all of which will have a huge part in your new life with Warren & I. So, since you're just floating around in my belly these days, maybe you can start practicing their names...Sean, Sue, Rob, Tiff. See? They're nice & short & easy for you to pronounce. They were all thrilled to find out about you, with Tiff even screaming 'I can't wait!!!'. I'm finding it very overwhelming & emotional to think about how much you are already loved. Tiff even reffered to me as 'Mama' a couple times. No one had called me that yet, and I have to tell you - it felt odd. I have to warn you - I've never done this before. So be prepared for some trial & error. Okay?


You have been growing for about 10 weeks now, and this, I'm told, means you are officially a 'fetus'. I'm also told this means you have completed some very important blueprints for yourself, and you will commence some rapid growth that will continue over the next 7 1/2 months. So let's both take it easy, rest when we need to & eat when we need to, to ensure that growth happens nice and healthy like.


I'll talk to you later,

Your Mom

My Thoughts & Emotions: 9 weeks (ish)

I'm finding this 1st trimester much different emotionally than I had expected. Having fantasized about being pregnant for that last 7 months or so, I had a preconceived idea of how I thought I would feel and act.

How I thought I'd feel & act:

• Be over-the-moon with excitement, fully consuming every second of my thoughts.
  
• Be bursting inside to tell people, and probably let the news out WAY too early.
  
• Be quite content with the state of my house - except for the nursery - and be bursting with energy & adreneline to get that job done.


• Be slumped over the toilet every morning.


• Couldn't wait to go out and start shopping for all the cute maternity clothes I used to admire through store windows.


• Be craving Hagan Daaz every night.


• I'd dream about Warren & I being parents and living in awe of this amazing person we had created.

How I have actually been feeling & acting:

• My excitement is guarded, with a small voice telling me not to get to excited yet - lots could still go wrong.
  
• I'm amazed at the eaze with which I can keep the secret from the vast majority of my friends, co-workers and extended family.


• The list of things I feel are MANDATORY to have done in our house before Christmas is frighfully impossible to accomplish, with zero energy or motivation to start.
  
• I have not thrown up once, not even close.


• I'm dreading growing out of my clothes and shopping for new ones. Partly the money, and partly I worry I will become horrendensly ugly in the later stages of pregnancy and NOTHING will look even remotely presentable on me.
  
• I've surprisingly been drawn to relatively nutritious and low-fat foods, except for french fries and the occasional chocolate bar.
  
• My thoughts have mostly been focused on worry. Will Warren regret this new life? Will I? How will Warren's long hours affect me emotionally? Will I resent him? Will he be understanding of how hard my new job is? Will I beat myself up if breastfeeding doesn't work out? What if our baby is 'difficult'? What if I can't keep the house clean, and people keep poping by and then think I'm a terrible mom for raising a baby in a house full of dirty dishes left on the dining room table, laundry on the floor, and dried toothpaste in the sink basin?

I often reassure myself that all these thoughts are normal, and every one survives the reality of raising kids. But it's important to me to document this, and to do it in the most honest way possible. I want to look back and think "oh ya, I remember those feelings. And now look, every thing is great".

Just Shoot Me

Silly Directors! Always trying to blow up the Producer with a silly canon. Don't they realise WE CAN'T DIE?

An Evening With Leonard Cohen

The much anticipated 'Life List' concert came and went, and I must say, it was fabulous. Mr. Cohen far exceeded my wildest expectations with his voice, his looks and his stamina. He sang for 3 incredible hours in a very handsome tailored suit and hat (which he took off out of respect for his band after almost every song - the hat, not the suit). He was gracious and funny and the audience loved him for it. And he loved us back with 3 lengthy encores.

Thank you Leonard. You allowed me to cross this off my life list without the slightest bit of regret.

Editor's note: Unfortunately I was LAME and obeyed the 'no photography' rule at the concert. Warren's 'always follow the rules' decease must be rubbing off on me. So, these pictures are stolen screen grabs from a You Tube montage video I found (which is why the quality is piss-poor). But I really want photos to remember this with. So there you have it.

There was more to this trip than just the concert, and luckily I managed to snap at least a couple photos.

This is my little brother James, and my little sister Kayley.

Kayley wearing the AWESOME sunglasses I found at the Scottish store in Stratford.

Dundas Square (brand new) in Toronto with my cousin Ryan who picked us up at the airport and came out to have dinner with us.

Oh - and that stain on Warren's jacket is very sentimental. He got it in Paris when he dripped oil & vinegar on himself. Ahhh, memories.

Ode To The Tube

When visiting London (and living there for that matter) the Tube is your main mode of transportation. With it's intricate lines of underground railroads, fancy turnstiles that suck-in your ticket and spit it out on the other side, with it's Way Out signs and Bakerloo's & Piccadilly's, it really is an icon of London. It's one of the things that makes me nostalgic for London and want to return. So throughout our visit, I allowed myself to be a super-geek and snap photos of The Tube.

My Hunger And My Tastebuds

I wanted to write a post about my pregnancy symptoms so far, because frankly, there aren't a whole lot of them. And this worries me. I keep wondering if I am actually pregnant. Despite the fact that 3 home pregnancy tests, taken on different days, have confirmed it, I'm still tempted to take one more. The thought that this pregnancy could end prematurely scares the shit out of me. And each day that passes the more scared I become. And this all boils down to my own belief that in this 'wonderful' age of Google, sometimes it's possible to know too much. The thing I find the MOST frustrating, is that according to the searches I've done, I've now learned that PMS, Pregnancy and Miscarriage all have identical symptoms. Abdominal pain, back ache & spotting. Are you kidding me?? Google, you are truly useless. Or, maybe I'm shooting the messenger.


Whatever. Back to what this post what supposed to be about.


I think my taste buds are changing a bit. The other day I was at the mall for lunch and decided to order a Falafel at the food court, because I knew chickpeas had lots of recommended pregnancy nutrients. But when I bit into it, I was horrified at the pungent, offensive taste that I couldn't quite place. The culprit was some purple onions, which I usually LOVE. I choked down as much as I could, but in the end could not finish the falafel. It's going to be a while before I will have the desire to order another one.


The other night I was making spaghetti, with my homemade tomato sauce. I made it the same way I always do, with the same ingredients. Can crushed tomatoes, can of mushrooms, can of lentils, chopped up zucchini with cilantro, red pepper flakes and pepper for seasoning. It always turns out great. But this time, every time I tasted it, it was just so BLAND. So I just kept dumping in the red pepper flakes, until I tasted something.


I went to bed around 9pm (that's another symptom - I'm much more tired and ready for bed at ridiculous times) and Warren was still working. He must have had some spaghetti when he came home because in the morning he said he really enjoyed the spaghetti I made, and thanked me for making it even though he knew I was tired. This is all very typical Warren. Very gracious and thankful and he never comments negatively in any way on my cooking. He's actually quite easy to please, thank goodness. But this time he added one comment. "But boy was it SPICY! I thought my mouth was on fire!" I thought maybe this was because the spices and 'soaked in' more before he ate it, but I've had leftovers the past few nights, and I barely taste the seasoning.


Lastly, my hunger. I'm definitely hungry ALL the time. But not 'I want to gorge myself on steak and burgers and eat a whole loaf of bread' kind of hunger, just constant snaking type hunger. I will eat 3 or 4 small snacks before lunch at work. It's seem every hour I need something, even if it's small. I can't understand how such a little, little person could be demanding so much from me. I suppose it just takes a ridiculous amount of energy for nature to create a little human from scratch.

Yesterday I had my first craving. That was fun, and Kirsty was there to witness it. We were at Eau Claire and she was waiting for her Edo-type stirfry to be ready. When she got her plate she turned to me and noticed an odd/happy look on my face. I just looked at her and said 'I'm going to make Rice Crispy Squares this weekend!'. 'What? Where did that come from" she said, as she laughed at me. Then we started talking about how delicious rice crispy squares are, especially when they're fresh & gooey. That afternoon, on my way home, I stopped at Safeway and picked up a stick of butter, Rice Crispies and marshmellows. The guy in front of me in line said 'Time for squares tonight?' 'Yup, I had a craving I guess' I said.


Now, I only had like 15 minutes at home before I had to leave again. I let the dogs out & fed them and put the butter & marshmallows on the stove, pronto tonto. Then mixed it all up and laid the gooey mess in baking dish. Scooped a few caveman-like handfuls into my mouth, then left Warren a greasy note that said:


"These rice crispy squares are my first pregnancy craving. If you eat them all before I get home, be prepared to DIE". He didn't even remove the saran wrap.

Snorty McSnort Snort & WWRU

(Actual date of events:Wednesday, April 16th, 2008)

Wednesday started off with another errand. Head to Leicester Square to buy tickets to We Will Rock You at the half price ticket booth. Check. Phew. That was a lot of work. So we treated ourselves to a Starbucks. For the first time in my life I ordered a Starbucks TO STAY, and actually drank it out of a real mug and everything. We sat outside at the little cafe tables and people watched while we enjoyed our coffees. Warren took this awesomely cool photo of the Charing Cross Road sign. Coulda been a contender in the Facebook Photo Contest if you ask me.



Next on the Agenda was to head to the Portabello Road market in Kensington. Warren found a store called A-D-A-M that had this sign in the window (sorry the photo is blurry, but my camera didn't want to focus through the glass...)

The market was very quaint, lots of antique type shops lining a long road. It was all a bit touristy & overpriced for my taste though. But, it was Kensington after all.
It was in one of these shops that we encountered the most offensive 'bag lady' I'd ever seen. She had gross long dreads, and she followed us into a store. What made her so offensive was that she kept SNORTING back Flem. Over and over and over. It was disgusting. I swear she was a shoplifter or pick pocket or something, but why she insisted on drawing so much attention to herself was beyond me. We lovingly nicknamed her Snorty McSnort Snort.

Here's a rainbow row of houses.

It was my personal mission to find Warren a 'Jaunty Cap'. The hat you see me wearing in most of the photos is my 'Jaunty Cap'. This term started when a friend of mine commented on 'what a jaunty cap' I was wearing. Everything else soon became jaunty as well... jaunty scarf, jaunty boots, etc. So Warren really needed his own Jaunty Cap.

Turns out that some Jaunty Caps made him look like my Grandpa. So, the search continued...


We ate lunch at the Lazy Daisy cafe.

After the market we headed to Harrods and stopped in at Burberry's on the way. Felt TOTALLY out of place there, with our tourist sneakers and jeans. Oh well. Harrods was different though. It was PACKED with tourists. It was HUGE. It had a sushi bar in the middle of a fish market. It had a CANDY department. It had doormen and fancy washrooms with granite counters. It was something to behold.

Before the show, we freshened up at the hotel and ate at the Victoria Pub near Hyde Park (and our hotel). This pub had the most beautiful 'reading room'. Too bad our basement doesn't look THIS good!

We Will Rock You ROCKED. However, I have to admit I was a little worried when the opening act looked more like a bad Doctor Who episode that took place in the future - or a version of the future that people in the 30's would have imagined. Neon, bubbles, robot dancing. Ya, I was worried.

But I hung in there and WOW. It rocked.

Two Thumbs Up For Decaf Lattes

This morning was my first doctor's appointment. It was essentially to 'confirm' my pregnancy. Warren was able to schedule around it, so he could be there too, because he's awesome that way.


It was fun seeing my doctor, who's been my family physician since I was born, smiling and congratulating me.


This was her first time ever meeting Warren, and when he walked into the room she leaned over to me and said 'You're going to have a HUGE baby'. "Or a long and slender baby" I corrected her. Because Warren is tall and skinny. Maybe she was combining his tallness with my 'full figuredness' and came to the HUGE conclusion, I don't know.


She asked about my last period and how long my cycles are, and then she started using a fancy spinning chart thing to figure out how far along I am, and when I'm due. I knew both those things already though :-)


I'm 5 weeks and a few days, due mid-January. Good times.


Then she started asking about my symptoms, and I told her I am feeling pretty good. This made her unhappy, so I told her about the initial heartburn I had, and that I'm pretty sure I'm more tired, and that I'm also convinced that I'm getting stupider by the day. These details didn't really make her any happier.


"You should be feeling very ILL!" she said. She followed that by saying some women don't get ill, but she still looked worried. "Do your boobs hurt?" she asked. "Not really. Maybe a little". This wasn't good enough for her though.


Maybe I'm underestimating my symptoms, because I was expecting the worst? Regardless, I'm only 5 weeks. I'm sure the worst has yet to come, don't you think?


We talked about where we wanted to deliver (Rockyview), and whether or not wanted the optional ultrasound that screens for birth defect risks (yes).


I asked her about what I can take for pain relief, and I was surprised to hear that early on I can still take Advil. Awesome! I was sad to hear that I can't sit in the steam room when I go swimming though, not even for 5 minutes.


Then she asked if a I drink milk. Warren gives my a hard time for how many lattes I drink, but I still announced proudly "I drink about 1 Decaf Latte a day". And she had a big grin on her face and she gave 2 BIG thumbs up. Fantastic. I will no longer feel any guilt for spending $4 on a latte a day.


Soon came the issue of weight gain, because I asked if I should be ordering my lattes with 2% instead of skim (I thought maybe the baby needed more fat or something). She said "Fat is not an issue in our society. I have never had to worry about a patient NOT gaining enough weight. You can keep drinking skim if you like". So then I asked how much I should be gaining, because I need to fit into a Bridesmaid dress in July, and the dress is already bought, and I don't want to ruin my friend's wedding by not fitting into the dress we all picked out.


She said I should only gain 5 lbs in the first 20 weeks. Shit. I could gain that easily WITHOUT being pregnant. Skim milk it is. I will be 17 weeks at the time of the wedding.


But then she said "Your boobs are gonna get HUGE though" and she started doing a 'boob mime', acting out with her hands in front of her chest how enormous my boobs will be, and making big googly eye faces to really send the message. So I pray to God my boobs don't outgrow the dress. I really don't want to be a Pornstar Bridesmaid, with cleavage and boobage squeezing out everywhere. That doesn't really say romance to most people, and that would be the ULTIMATE pornstar violation.


When it was all said & done, she gave us a big book of info and motioned to the door. "Aren't you going to test me or anything? Or are you just going to take my word for it?" I asked, surprised. "Oh no," she said, "those home test are VERY accurate."


Okey Dokey then.

A Float Down The Thames & Hampton Court Palace

(Actual date of events: Tuesday, April 15th, 2008)

Our first morning in London started will a complimentary 'Full English Breakfast' at our hotel. For those who don't know, a Full English Breakfast consists of:

1) Egg
2) Toast
3) Cooked tomato
4) Ham
5) Brown beans
6) Blood Pudding (this breakfast didn't come with that, which was fine by me).

This was a great way to fuel up for the day ahead.

First things first, we headed to Paddington station to pick up our train tickets to Bath. Warren likes to have all these things sorted out ahead of time. Next on the list was to try and get tickets to a stage play called 'Speed the Plow' starring Kevin Spacey and Jeff Goldblum, that was happening at the Old Vic Theater. Our handy travel book told us that the Old Vic opened at 10am every morning. So we aimed to arrive there before it opened.

When we found it, there was a short line of people waiting outside already, but not too bad. When the door opened and the line moved inside to the box office, we were told that the ENTIRE SEASON was sold out, and that they only had a few 'Standing Room Only Tickets' left. As we debated in line on whether or not we would even want to stand through an entire play, the 2 couples ahead of us got the last available spots. So this attempt was a complete BUST. It was a bit disappointing because I used to have an uber-crush on Jeff Goldblum, but at least we can say we tried.

So what now then? How about an impromptu Boat Trip up to Hampton Court Palace (you know, the one from the 'Tudors'...)!

The boat we ended up on was called the Dunkirk and had an amazing history. It was a civilian type boat that was actually used during World War II to evacuate soldiers who were being attacked at Dunkirk back to England.

It was the PERFECT day for a boat ride like this. The sun was bright, the sky was blue and the breeze was warm. We really lucked out.
Because it was a 3 hour float down the Thames to our destination, the boat was equipped with a snack bar & BAR. One of the things I really wanted to do on this trip was have a Pint on the Thames. Check.

Throughout the 3 hours, the Captain recited all the historical tid-bits as we floated by them. It was extremely interesting and the 3 hours went by quickly. The Dove Pub supposedly has the SMALLEST BAR in the world, with only 2 stools.

After a beautiful trip, we docked at Hampton Court Palace.

We didn't head straight to the Palace, but instead strolled around the little town, looking in some antique shops and had some lunch at a Pub.

The entrance to the palace was huge. We have 2 paintings of Hampton Court in our Pub, so it was so neat to see it in real life.

Inside, many of the old rooms were staged to demonstrated what they would have been used for.

Outside, the gardens were immaculate (of course they were, this is England for goodness sake). Yes, that's me under the tree!

The Royal Tennis Courts were actually being used. I have no idea if they were royalty.

The first of MANY photos of Warren taking photos.
My critically acclaimed 'Flowering Bulbs' photo.

After the Palace tour, on our way to catch the train back to London, Warren bought a soft ice cream cone with a chocolate candy stick, that he used to eat as a kid. Awwwww.
We ended our day back in London and ate a Vegetarian Indian restaurant that our Travel Book had recommended. The food was great, but the service was absolutely atrocious. It's funny now, to think that the service was SO bad, we actually took the time to make sure we noted that in our travel journal :-)