It’s one of my favourite things about being a mom. 

I have several favourite things of course, like the cuddles, the sound of his laughter, the way his face lights up when he sees me, watching him work something out for the first time (or anytime), to name but a few. 

But breastfeeding for me is one of my favourite parts. For many reasons. I love that it slows me down. Slows us down. And some days I need slowing down in mind and/or body. 

I love the connection and closeness. I love the intimacy of it. I love the caresses he gives to my face, arm or chest as he’s feeding, whether falling asleep or wide awake. I love his squeezes. His way of saying I love you mumma for this. 

I love that it soothes him, that something my body creates soothes him to sleep or soothes the hurts away or soothes him when sick. I love that my body adapts to his needs and provides exactly what he needs, especially when sick. 

I love that my body creates an elixir that nourishes his body, in more ways than food. 

I feel grateful that I am able to do this. 

I don’t really want it to end. 

And thankfully he is in no way interested in stopping either at this point. We feed day and night to soothe thirst, hunger, hurts, and for comfort and connection. I know one day he’ll be done, and I will accept and flow with that when it happens organically. 

I will follow his lead on this one and continue as long as he needs or wants. 

I don’t feel I’m missing anything by breastfeeding either. As a grown up I mean. 

I was already a decaf drinker for years before becoming pregnant. And I wasn’t much of an alcohol drinker. Definitely not a party-er. I did enjoy the now legal green stuff occasionally but I don’t miss it and am happy to wait many years before I have it again (if I do). 

It was as though the past 10 years or so of lifestyle choices prepared me for long-term breastfeeding. 

Though I could have been in better physical condition before pregnancy I’m grateful I had no substance addictions that I would “miss”.  (And yes, based on the withdrawals I personally felt when I gave up caffeine 10+ years ago, I consider caffeine a substance). 

Sometimes I marvel that my body produces milk. I occasionally squeeze a nipple to watch with incredulity that I am creating this substance, that milk is coming from my amazing body. 

I am ever so grateful that breastfeeding is a part of my motherhood journey. That we get to share this natural and incredible connection of nurture, nutrition, and love. 

Big milky cheers to two years of breastfeeding and looking forward to many more. 

I’m proud of my diamond boobies! 

Warm smiles and Love,

My toughest days as a SAHM are 100x better than the best days at a job.

Being a SAHM can be beyond exhausting, and confusing, and the most challenging puzzle that seemingly has no solution because it changes every time you blink…

But woven in between each of those most challenging moments is a smile that fills your heart to overflowing, a touch that says “I love you”, and the witnessing of a life expanding before your eyes.

And it makes the toughest of moments dissipate like smoke in a vacuum. Immediately changing your despair to joy and restarting the clock.

As though each giggle, each smile, each hand hold, or new discovery by my angel, wipes the slate clean and we start over fresh, new, ready for anything – challenges overcome and forgotten.

There are times where I feel completely crazy or at my absolute breaking point, ready to curl into a ball and cry my heart out for my utter failure as a mom. Then he flashes a smile and bats his baby browns and I feel like the most fortunate human that ever lived, and like the best momma in the world.

There are also the truly uneventful days where I feel from morning to night like a good mom doing a pretty good job and all goes well. No highs, no lows, just us doing our thing.

And those days too are better than anything I’ve ever done before. Because I find just being with my son so joyful.

I love watching him as he figures out how to put a Mega Blok together with another, or how to put a wooden ring on the peg, or stack blocks and knock them down, or how to couple his wooden train. I love watching as he plays the same song over and over again on the preprogrammed drum/song play thing he has and as he bops along to that song! I love reading him stories and seeing him start to discern preferences, flicking to his favourite page or staying on one page for a longer time pointing out the things of interest to him. I love that he points to things and waits patiently for me to name them, over and over we say the names of things “fire alarm, lamp, mat, door, oven, chair, blanket, pillow, light, nose, eye, ear, lips, mouth, head, hair, shoulder, arm, leg, foot, toe, knee, fingers, hands….” on and on it goes.

You see while I have had some jobs in the past that I’ve enjoyed, and even loved, nothing compares to the honour of getting to watch the incredible human that grew inside of my body discover the world around him.

An absolute honour is what it is for me.

And he’s a funny little human. With a weird sense of humour that cracks me up and matches my own weird sense of humour (did he get that from me?).

He’s also super serious. Observant.

When we’re out in public it is amusing to me to watch people try to get a smile out of him (why do people do this?), and then say “he’s very serious isn’t he?”, when their efforts are unrewarded.

Yes, he likes to watch and work out what and who people are first. I admire this completely and feel a rush of pride when people comment on it. That’s right…my son is no dancing monkey, he chooses his own timing. LOVE!

I can’t help but think of all of the things I would miss in his life if I wasn’t at home with him. There is no where I’d rather be than with my son as he grows into himself. I want to be there with him and don’t want someone else to get that privilege.

It is unfair to expect a mother to hand their child over to someone else to get to experience these moments with their children. ALL parents should have the opportunity – if they so choose – to stay at home with their children.

And I know many who couldn’t wait to get back to work and that’s okay too…no judgements here. But for those of us who want nothing more than to sit on the lounge room floor every day with their emerging child, it should be a viable option for all.

It’s not for everyone and it is by no means easy all the time, in fact it’s the most challenging “job” of my life, but I love it more than I could have imagined.

And for now, I have the honour and I’m so grateful.

May the stars align to keep me home with him for as long as I love and adore being here.

How about you? Would you love to stay at home with your little ones?

Warm smiles and Love,

The pregnancy was tough, in many physical ways that I will share at another time and it was tough in a mentally draining sense. I found all new levels of tired.

Some days at work I napped sitting up with my head in my hands while no one was around (during the lunch hour). When I came home for lunch, sometimes I napped sitting up on the couch after setting an alarm in case of nap! When I arrived home from work I would often eat something (to stave off the nausea) and then nap until bed time, which was 7:30pm most nights.

Weekends I spent more time sleeping on the couch than doing anything else.

The miracle of creating and nurturing life within our bodies is truly incredible and, as my prenatal yoga instructor repeatedly reminded us, it is also the equivalent of climbing a mountain every day. Our bodies are expending so much energy that we just need to be kind to ourselves and take our cues from how we feel in each new day.

And so I did.

The result was this amazing little human being that emerged forth on November 20 and changed my world forever.

Flynn arrived nearly 4 weeks early, deciding his own timeline and choosing his own birthdate.

My OBGYN had picked a c-section date of December 8, which would have been one week exactly before his official due date of December 15, and Flynn decided he wanted a different date (and birth sign) altogether.

We spent the first three and a half weeks in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) at a city hospital about an hour and a half from my town. Those were tough weeks, emotionally, physically for us both but especially for Flynn, and…in an unexpected twist… financially – as the hospital does not allow the parent to stay in the hospital with the child (whaaat?).

But we survived and in hindsight see that all the trials were perfect for us, just as this child is the perfect fit for me. Our story is ours and it was the perfect beginning for us to bond and fall in love.

When we finally came home I had friends staying with me for a few weeks to support us in being alone together. And thank goodness for them. I do not know how I would have coped straight from the hospital alone with my boy. I was scared to do the wrong thing, and more scared because he’d just come out of intensive care, the monitors had literally come off the day before coming home.

Was he safe? I mean, can you just take off monitors one day and be completely okay the next?

I didn’t know and was terrified he would stop breathing or something during the night and I wouldn’t be able to get him to hospital in time. I too was still recovering from a c-section, where “rest” had not yet happened due to the NICU stay for my son and hotel stays for me, travelling back and forth in taxis and having to walk longer distances than I recommended from early days meant I was not healing as fast as expected.

When we were alone for the first time, right before new year, those were some tough adjustment days and weeks for me…and truly rewarding.

I caught myself “doing it”… “being” a mom.

Without the NICU, the nurses, doctors, the hospital, and the friends supporting me at home…well, just like that… “overnight” I’d become a mom.

And, tiredness aside, I was doing pretty great. I loved this child so much and I loved being with him more. I marveled at his every breath.

As the weeks turned into months, we have grown together and we have fallen in love. He is such a joy to be with, I’ve never enjoyed a “job” more than being his stay at home mom.

However, the opportunity to sit and write has been limited, and most often nonexistent.

He likes my attention (and isn’t that wonderful!!!) and knows immediately when I start working on the computer…he lets me know he does not approve in his only mode of verbal communication right now!

I am trying to go back and write those months lost – mostly so I have them – but also to share the incredible highs and lows, the entire journey, with you.

In the meantime, so much happens every day! And so present and past may be intertwined and alternating. Sorry. I had hoped to keep up to date as things occurred…

In the end the most important thing I’m learning and have learnt is kindness to myself. I can only do what I can do and I have two very important souls to look after and consider now.

Yes, I have become important to me – moreso than ever before – because I am responsible for this precious life now, and that means I have to look after us both.

It’s humbling and sometimes daunting, and I have never been happier or more content than when I am home with my son, snuggling him close as he sleeps, or stroking his head as he feeds, or singing softly into his ear as he struggles with something happening in his everchanging alien world.

I love being a mom, and I especially love and am honoured to be his mom.

I wish to be at home with him and soak in these moments for as long as possible.  For already time is going so fast. So, so fast.

Flynn then:

Flynn now:

My posts may not be regular for a while longer, and you can know that the reason is that I chose one more snuggle instead of one more page.

Warm smiles and Love,

The results: 10,817 – doubled in three days!

You see, now that I’d done 15 pee tests, and had three blood tests, all confirming I was pregnant – I started to become scared of losing it.

Every day I monitored how I felt, the symptoms I was having and whether they were ‘strong enough’ or the ‘right ones’ that proved I was “still” pregnant.

Oh boy.

So Friday came and I did the final test. I was feeling pretty good about it when I mentioned to the girl doing the bloods that this was my fourth test and that the other three were positive so I was feeling excited to get these results too.

She replied, “oh, that’s great news. We don’t ask because people come in for these tests either when their pregnant or when they’ve just miscarried.”

Just hearing that terrifying word put a dampener on my day and I started to worry about the results. What if they didn’t multiply enough, what if they decreased instead of increased.

I almost worried myself sick for the next few hours, so I spent some time meditating and then giving myself the usual pep-talks, including “no matter what happens we’ll be okay.”

On Sunday I woke feeling great. Wonderful even. No nausea, no tiredness, no sore boobs, no….

Wait! OH MY GOODNESS… NO SYMPTOMS!

Panic hit me. Pure panic.

I wanted to vomit out of sheer worry–not from nausea–and that made me want to cry.

Pep talks were not helping. So I did what any mother-to-be in this age would do…I Googled.

Thankfully, there were lots of positive accounts of symptoms coming and going and that it was nothing to be concerned about.

This helped for a while, but by the end of the day I’d worked myself up into a frenzy of panic once more.

So I peed on yet another stick, got an almost instant and super dark second line, and finally relaxed.

Monday morning, as if in punishment of my lack of faith, the symptoms returned in full force! Then I wondered why I hadn’t enjoyed a full symptom-free day!!

By Tuesday I was back to normal with the symptoms and my level of faith.

My appointment with my doctor was right after work and he’d asked me to come with a full bladder.

I did.

Once again, when you have a full bladder you should have priority…!!! I did not get priority, there were three people in front of me.

When I did get to see him we did the ultrasound first and again he explained the equipment – which plugs into the regular computer – is not high quality and we may not see anything.

But we did see the gestational sac and the fetal pole (?). He said it was in a great position, and looking really good.

Then he said:

 “Wow, it’s big. They transferred two, right?”
Me: “Um no.”
Him: “Oh.”
Me: “Why? Do you see two?”
Him: “Uh…” pause… “No.” pause… “um, let’s see you every week for the next few weeks until you can get in for the stronger ultrasound.”
Me: “But everything looks good right?”
Him: “Oh yes, it looks very good, you’re in very good shape, it’s in a good position, looks good, growing well. Let’s just see you weekly for a little bit.”

Sure. Okay….

LOL! I’m not concerned. Not really. I’m chuffed that there was something on the screen to see…even if it was just an oblong looking dark spot!

Though this is not the first time someone has suggested more than one. Until someone tells me that for certain I will not worry about it. I’m feeling pretty certain I’m just having one nugget, but if there are two…we’ll just have more Love, that’s all.

He went on to say that we might see a heartbeat next week orfor sure the week after on his scanner – but that I would definitely see it on the real ultrasound when I eventually get an appointment (which might not be until Mid-May the ultrasound people told me last week when I followed up!).

I am pretty blown away that this pregnancy is holding and that the little nugget is growing! And that I’m pregnant! Oh my goodness…

Amazed!

And so very blessed…

Warm smiles and Love,

I’d had my beta blood tests done at, 13dp6dt, 16dp6dt, and 19dp6dt.

On the day following the 19dp test I had an appointment with my doctor.

The first thing he said when he walked through the door into the consulting room was “Congratulations! You’re pregnant!” then he said, “whoops, you did know, right?”

Yes. I told him I’d done 15 pee tests in the past week! I’d become obsessed with testing each day because I was so happy to see two lines I wanted to see those two lines every day.

He laughed and understood, he and his wife had been down this road before and he knew how exciting those positive results were.

Then he pulled up the results to share with me:

Blood test HCG results:

13dp6dt = 486

16dp6dt = 1971

19dp6dt = 5232

He was very happy with the results and said those numbers looked good.

When I got home from the appointment I googled the numbers and found they were good, high even compared to others at the same point in their pregnancies. This made me feel incredibly grateful.

That little blastocyst I saw on the screen was a strong little sucker, and was doing all the things he/she was meant to be doing to become a human. I was really proud of my little nugget, and of my body for doing the right things to support the growth of my nugget.

At this appointment he asked me how I was feeling.

I’d had some symptoms:

• Tiredness
• Nausea, all day nausea
• Constipation for an average of two – three days, followed by a day of diarrhea.
• Sore boobs.
• Heavy, warm boobs.
• And the need to pee CONSTANTLY! As soon as I was done peeing I felt the need to pee again, it was like having a UTI without the searing, burning pain.

So far, I told him, I was controlling the Nausea with food, small amounts of food every few hours and Powerade. The constipation I was hoping to regulate with more vegetables in my meals and a daily dose of prune juice (have you tried this stuff?? Blech! But does the trick!). And the heartburn I took an occasional Tums. There was no cure for the need to pee or the tiredness and I was just living with it.

He wrote me a prescription in support of the nausea, it was a management plan that is safe for pregnancy and involves a pill at the same time every evening, then 1-2 during the day if needed as a boost. They are slow-release pills and keep the nausea at bay all day.

Because I was coping so far, by having a few crackers or apple/pear slices, I decided not to take them at this point.

He also wrote me a requisition for an ultrasound and wrote “URGENT” on it.

I asked about the Urgent part and he said, he wanted to make sure I got an appointment right away.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work and I waited a month for an appointment anyway.

Then he suggested he could try an ultrasound in his office. He told me the equipment he uses is not very strong, and mostly used for much further along in a pregnancy, but we might be able to see something. He reassured me not to panic if we see nothing at this early stage.

So I hopped up on the bed and he tried the ultrasound.

Nope. We couldn’t see anything.

He asked me to come back the following week with a full bladder and we’d try again.

I didn’t care that we didn’t see anything, the beta bloods were strong multipliers and I felt on top of the world that it was confirmed…by my doctor…

I AM definitely PREGNANT!

Warm smiles and Love,

Some people find this two week wait excruciating. They start testing at 5 days past (dp) and then stress because they’re not sure if they see a line or don’t see a line, so they post the photos and ask for others to weigh in, and then test again at 6dp, 7dp, 8dp, 9dp…many of them stressing themselves into little balls of hopelessness. A part of me envies their excitement.

I was the opposite. I found the idea of testing terrifying.

At least during the “wait” I was PUPO (Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise) and I did not want to test and “PO”!

While I waited, I could just be pregnant and enjoy the idea of being pregnant.

Living a fantasy of my own making has always been my preferred way to navigate this thing called life!

Sticking my head in the sand when a problem arises is my ‘go to’ mechanism.

See something unpleasant? Look the other way.

A potential argument ahead? Do an about-face.

Someone not living up to my expectations? Change my expectations, walk away (about-face), or find an aspect of the person that I do enjoy (look the other way).

These are my go to’s in my living of life.

So the test date for me came and it went!

After almost a full week of illness, I really only had a few days to “wait”.

The clinic had given me an official first test date of 12 days after the transfer, so not even a full two weeks.

12dp6dt was a Tuesday and I woke without even considering peeing in a cup and testing.

When I mentioned this to the online forum, some agreed with me – they also like the idea of being PUPO and are not eager to test, but most disagreed vehemently.

Some suggested that by not testing I ran the risk of missing a potential problem.

Ahh…fear….the great motivator.

My doctor had given me a requisition for four blood tests to be taken from the official test date with three days between each test.

To align with the long weekend, I decided to wait one more day so that I could still test with three days between each; otherwise it would have been four days between the 2nd and 3rd test. I didn’t know the importance of the three days between, so I was determined to stick to it.

So 13dp6dt, I went in for the first blood test. It was a Wednesday and meant I could take the next one on the Saturday, then the Tuesday, and Friday.

The words of the ladies on the forum about potential risks being missed had been playing on my mind for 24 hours now, and as I drove home from the first blood test, I decided I would brave the pee-stick.

To prepare myself for the potential worst, I told myself what the clinic had told me. “DO NOT PANIC if the pee test is negative, wait for the blood test results.”

Then I followed with my usual pep-talk, “whatever happens I will be okay and my life will still be beautiful and fulfilling and there will be other options for a family.”

I got home and pulled out the stemless wine glass I had been using as my pee catcher cup when I was checking for ovulation months ago and headed to the bathroom.

The tests I had on hand came in a box of 100 ovulation strips and 20 HCG strips.

Three being my lucky number, I took out three HCG strips, peed in the cup, and with butterflies in my tummy I dipped the first stick. Then laid it down for it to do its thing and dipped the other two, one at a time.

Though my business was done, I stayed on the toilet, my logic was that while I was sitting on the toilet I was safe from a negative result.

Huh?

Yeah…I don’t know why, it’s just what I felt at the time. Irrational logic seems to go hand in hand with fear!

The first strip had only one stripe so far, the one that always appears. I looked away. I did not want to acknowledge how devastated I would be if the tests were negative.

I wasn’t sure if I could face it, the thought crossed my mind that I should swoop them in the bin right now and not look at all. Just wait for the blood test results next week.

Another pep-talk ensued, much like the one on the drive home. “I will be okay…”

I turned back and braved a look at the developing test strips.

The first test had….TWO STRIPES!

I laughed out loud out of sheer relief.

The second test was now developing the second stripe, as was the third test.

Three positive pregnancy tests.

 (13dp6dt)

My heart pounded in my chest and my breathing accelerated.

THREE POSITIVE PREGNANCY TESTS!

I felt like I’d just won three games of solitaire in a row (the only game I play on my phone!). In other words, it didn’t feel “real” as in I’m having a baby real, more like “wow, I got two lines three times in a row… I win!” real.

Then I finished my business and got off the toilet!

With shaking hands I took a photo of each test, then one of all three together, then several more just to be sure.

It hit me, three positive tests meant…

I’M PREGNANT! Holy SHIT! I’M PREGNANT!!!!

I emailed my three closest friends with the results. They too were blown away and overjoyed for me. None of us could really believe this was happening!

The following morning I took another test, and got another positive.

 (14dp6dt)

Then right after work I bought a “fancy” test, the one that says “pregnant” with the number of weeks past conception.

This one I saved to do Friday morning at 15dp6dt, five weeks pregnant (going from the first day of my last period), and it was also Good Friday, a day off for me.

The fancy tests (it was a box of two) also came back positive.

 (15dp6dt)

The one that said Pregnant put me at 2-3 weeks past conception, which seemed right on track with the 15 days past the transfer.

Feeling overwhelmed with shock, I sent another email to my closest friends:

Subject: Old news now but…
I did the fancy test this morning – at 4:30am (thank you Greyson! LOL!)…
And they both said PREGNANT!
I know it’s crazy to say that I’m blown away by the results after all the plans I made, after flying across the world specifically for this purpose, and after actually being present for the transfer of an embryo I saw on the screen….
But I really was disconnected from the outcome. Almost as though I didn’t really “understand” what would follow.
I feel blown away. I’m pregnant!
Three distinct parts of me are processing this information.

• There is the part that is blown away like “what the heck is happening here?” and “How did this happen?” The surprised slightly stupid one! LOL.
• Then there is the present part of me that is taking note of, and enjoying every single part of, these changes. The reveler!
• Then there is the part of me that is looking to the future and imagining our joyful life together as mom and baby/child/teen/adult… The… Mom… perhaps.

There is still two blood tests to go, and results at the doctor next Wednesday but seeing the “fancy” tests tell me in plain words even that I’m pregnant has blown me away (again) this morning!
Note: the 2-3 indicator on the digital test is weeks since conception. I thought it was weeks pregnant and panicked this morning that it was wrong. But it’s been 15 days today since the transfer so the digital test is spot on.
Today I am officially 5 weeks pregnant!
That’s 7 more weeks of hormone meds…!
Ali.xx

Testing over the next week and a half became an obsession.

Every morning when I woke up I tested again. Just in case.

By the time the next doctor’s appointment rolled around exactly 7 days after my first pee-test, I’d done 15 pee tests in total! All of them positive.

(20dp6dt – the day of my Dr’s appointment to get the blood test results)

Still it was a struggle to drum into my mind that this was actually happening.

One flight half way around the world, for a 5 minute procedure, and I was pregnant.

Wowza!

That explained the nausea that had not quite left me, and the extreme tiredness I was still feeling… Not Jet-lag after all… PREGNANT!

Part of me still needed to see the results of the bloods and hear it from my Dr’s lips before I’d accept completely.

But for this moment… I’m was pregnant!

Warm smiles and Love,

The following morning, still not feeling pregnant but trying to remind myself as often as possible that I actually was…I was there, I saw it happen…I decided to go for one last walk through the park near the hotel before I had to catch the train back to Prague.

I’d read somewhere that walking was good for implantation.

It was early, around 8am, and there were not many people about, just a few rollerbladers (it’s popular here, love it!). It was delightful. Cool crisp air, early morning sun streaming through the trees.

I took photos of the park and again imagined bringing my children back to their place of origin and walking through this park with them.

On the way out of the park, I heard loud obnoxious squawking, and turned toward it. I followed the sounds until I came to two beautiful, and enormous, peacocks high up in a tree just hanging out.

I’d never seen a peacock running free before, only in a zoo or animal farm of some sort. This was amazing. Another sign perhaps?

It was a great way to end my journey in Olomouc. I felt happy and ready to move forward.

My return journey on the train was as comfortable as the first trip and I was once again grateful to have paid the extra for the business class seats.

The attendants did not speak English though and neither did my cabin mates. But, I had all I needed in my pack, including food and water so I was covered.

Arriving back in Prague felt good and I wished I was staying for a few days instead of getting straight onto the airport bus and heading to the airport hotel.

At the same time I was feeling ready to be home. In my own bed, with my kitty for comfort. I missed my kitty, I missed his furry little face and his big green eyes.

When I arrived at the airport I had to call the hotel to get a pick up. The shuttle driver was super nice and she turned out to also be the receptionist.

The hotel was nice and on a different day I might have enjoyed walking around the grounds. But I was tired! My room was nice, but warm, I took a shower and then fell asleep for a few hours.

The hotel had a pretty good menu and I had the most delicious plate of vegetables that were sautéed in some delectable flavouring. I also had an amazing burger.

The return flight to Canada was early the next morning so I got some sleep.

The flight to Paris was not the most comfortable, in fact, the entire plane smelled like sweat – year old, baked in, sweaty feet and armpit sweat. And you know how with smells, you usually get used to it and stop smelling it, that never happened. I was consciously aware of the smell the entire 1 hour and 25 minute flight. I was grateful when that flight was over!

However, after the last experience in the Paris airport I pretty much ran to the next gate – which I checked, triple checked, and checked again.

I made it to the correct gate, and got on the flight almost immediately.

Once again I had an empty seat between me and the next person – and this time the plane was newer…a.k.a. seats with padding! I was pretty excited about this!

Though the seats were much more comfortable and my view from the window was pretty amazing, this was not the most comfortable flight. There seemed to be a lack of food, I was hungry all the time and the longest stretch of about 5 hours without food was torture. The sun never went down the entire flight either, so I didn’t sleep a wink.

When it was time to insert the progesterone balls, I had to clean vomit in the bathroom before I could use it. Not the greatest part of the journey, but other than the lack of food and the vomitous toilet it was pretty good.

Arriving in Vancouver was a relief. I was glad to be home.

The lack of smokers on the street was also a welcome reprieve for my lungs! The one thing I did not enjoy about the Czech Republic was all of the smokers. The no-smoking movement has not caught on, and cigarettes are still super cheap…

As I started the long drive home, fatigue started to creep into my bones. I was TIRED.

So tired I missed the turn off through the city that would take me direct to where I needed to go. I thought I was fine to go a different way and ended up lost for a good 45 minutes. Not what I needed on top of the 2 hour drive home!

Eventually I found my way back to the highway and the rest of the drive went without hitch.

I finally arrived home at around 3pm.

My kitty was so happy to see me and I was happy to snuggle with him.

Though I was extremely travel smelly. What is it about travel that stinks you up?

Long, hot, shower later, feeling happy to be clean, I slipped into some pyjamas.

Then the nausea started. I did not feel good AT ALL!

I chalked it up to exhaustion and tried to get some sleep.

A few hours later I woke and bolted for the bathroom where I vomited until I thought there was nothing left.

I was wrong…there was more…all the way to the breakfast they had served on the plane at around 6am – around 18 hours earlier!

Then diarrhea hit me. I had alternate runs to the toilet either to vomit or the other thing.

I felt like I’d been stuck in the washing machine and dryer – I was dizzy, wobbly on my feet, and washed out completely.

I’ve had to be hospitalised before for dehydration and I knew how important it was to stay hydrated. Water went right through me, literally, and so – in my pyjamas, looking like death – I hopped in the car and went to the 7Eleven down the road and bought 4 bottles of Powerade and some saltines.

I ripped into both in the parking lot of the 7Eleven before I attempted the drive home.

This helped. And within an hour the excavation from my insides stopped.

I felt nasty though. Very sick.

A fever started while I slept fitfully and I sweated rivers.

I felt like death.

The next day, still sick, still feverish going from super hot to shivering cold, I called my doctor’s office. They could only get me in the following day.

I explained my symptoms and told the girl that I’d just had an embryo transfer and was worried about the baby. She told me if I was really worried to go to emergency.

That seemed a bit much, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to make the drive.

Instead I Googled it.

Google told me that the temperature was an issue only if it went over 38.6 for prolonged periods of time.

Dragging myself to the pharmacy (only a few blocks away) I bought a thermometer and again asked the pharmacist if I should see a doctor. They didn’t know, but also suggested emergency if I was uncertain.

I bought more Powerade with the thermometer and decided if the temp was too high or didn’t come down in a few hours I would go to emergency.

Thankfully, it did come down, but when I first tested my temp was sitting at 38.5. It was high.

I continued to eat crackers, and I tried a little chicken broth with spinach as well. Mostly, I slept and when I woke I drank more Powerade and took my temperature.

My fever broke sometime during the day, and though I was still dizzy and shaky, I started to turn the corner from sickness to health.

When I saw my doctor the next day I told him about it, he “pfft’d” my concerns and told me it sounded as though I’d done the right thing and the baby would be fine.

I wanted to believe him, so I did. Phew!

He wrote me a requisition for bloods. Four tests three days apart and told me to do those when the two-week wait was up, and to make another appointment to see him when the tests were done.

I went home to sleep some more.

Thankfully, I’d had the foresight to take an additional week off work and did not have to return for another five days.

I spent most of the week resting.

Though I also went to the movies later in the week with a friend to see Beauty and the Beast. Wow. Beautiful movie. I cried from about a ¼ of the way through for the rest of the movie (right from the library scene onward). Bawled. Loved it.

I still had nausea even though the vomiting had stopped and the diarrhea had stopped, but the nausea seemed constant. I put that down to jet-lag. Same with the tiredness. I could have slept like my cat – 16 hours a day or more – no problem. Again, I thought it was jet-lag.

My first week back at work was brutal. I was barely able to keep my eyes open and had a hard time concentrating on what was happening around me. At the end of the day, I pretty much came home and fell asleep until the next alarm sounded for the next medication dose. I ate small amounts of food each time I woke and continued drinking Powerade all week.

And still, two weeks after returning home, I called it “jet-lag”.

But was it…?

Warm smiles and Love,

I woke the day after transfer in Olomouc (pronounced: Olomotz) and felt….no different.

Of course, I was now officially considered Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise (PUPO), but I felt no different to the way I’d felt the day before, or the one before that.

This was a little disappointing, because I wanted to feel something that would “prove” to me that I was pregnant, that the transfer yesterday worked, and that the embryo I saw on the screen that was placed inside of my body would stay with me, grow within me, and become my child, my family. I needed something that would help me connect emotionally to the whole process.

So as I stared at the ceiling in my hotel room in Olomouc, I prayed to the universe to please let us come together and be the family we both desire.

My alarm sounded for the morning progesterone suppository. Once that was placed, I started my morning Reiki/meditation session.

As I started to let go of the outcome and my worries melted away, I reminded myself again that if this embryo chose me as his or her family, chose me as the perfect parent for their experience within this life, then I would be the best most loving parent I could be. If they didn’t chose me this time around, then I would still be okay. I would move to Nova Scotia, adopt or foster children, and publish my novels.

It felt like a good plan with a happy ending either way.

Olomouc was waiting to be explored.

The acupuncturist had warned about foods to eat and not to eat, including having a warm breakfast with hot water – no cold foods and no coffee or tea. The hotel did not have a huge range of hot foods that I enjoy, so I stuck with baked beans and breads, and plain hot water.

When I had my fill, I headed out into the sunshine. The weather was lovely, perhaps even a bit hot for my liking, at around 20 degrees.

My first stop was the main square.

Main square – entrance:

Holy Trinity Column:

Love the doors and entrances:

And the buildings which look like a movie set facade:

It was still early in the AM when I arrived and there were not many people around. The sun had not risen high enough over all of the buildings to allow me to get great photos of some of the statues.

Caesar’s Fountain:

Not sure what this was about…but interesting…

Then I found my way to the Astronomical Clock. No crowds at this feature, unlike in Prague, however, there was scaffolding everywhere!

This square was both my entrance to Olomouc, and the way I would have to go back to my hotel, which meant I would come back through when the sun was higher. I took a seat next to Hercules, who I’d originally mistaken for an old lady (!), and mapped out the things I wanted to see.

I estimated that I could see all the items on my list within a few hours.

Taking it easier the day before had been a blessing for my weary feet which had been pounding the cobblestones for days…read: tired and sore.

Unfortunately, Olomouc was all cobbled too and my feet were starting to protest already after walking from the hotel to the main square. I kept going though determined to stick to my plan.

Next stop was another square with more statues off a side street.

When I checked the map as I walked, I discovered that one of the fountains was Jupiter’s.

Jupiter’s fountain in Olomouc?

Flabbergasted I stopped still on the sidewalk and I burst into tears.

Jupiter’s fountain in Olomouc?!

This was the first time I’d really connected emotionally and powerfully with what I was doing here. I was here to have a baby. I was here to have a little Jupiter ruled Sagittarian baby. Jupiter’s fountain was HERE, in Olomouc, the day after my embryo transfer in Olomouc, in the Czech Republic on the other side of the world from where I live.

It all seemed like a massive sign to me and as the tears streamed down my face I thanked the universe for all of the signs that had been present on my journey so far, all of the numbers and angels that had appeared on this trip. And now Jupiter too.

I was meant to be here. My hand made its way to my belly. I didn’t feel any different physically, but I allowed my mind to remember the view of my embryo on the screen and the feeling of the pinch as it was placed inside me. I was here to get pregnant, with a little Jupiter baby.

I pulled myself together and made my way through the square, taking photos as I went until I came face to face with the fountain. Staring up at the figure of the God, I thanked him for being there as another sign on my journey.

There was a bench nearby and I sat for a while watching the people move about the square, with Jupiter’s watchful eye to my left. I imagined bringing my daughter (I kept imagining a girl) back here some day and telling her how Jupiter’s fountain had made me cry for the joy of being pregnant with her.

As I looked at all of the faces of the people around me, young and old, I wondered would my child look like him, or her, or her, or him? I stared at babies – would my baby look like that one, or that one, or that one?

When it was time to continue on my adventure, I found myself searching all of the faces of younger people with brown hair and brown or blue eyes. I walked past a university and I’d heard that many of the donors are university students so every 20 something that walked near or out of the doors I wondered – did you give me this gift I carry deep inside of me?

It became a bit of an obsession.

This is Olomouc:

I happened to come back around to the Astronomical Clock at noon and got to see the things moving and hear the music playing…. IT WAS TERRIBLE! The moving parts were interesting and I did enjoy that, but the music was horribly out of tune, the trumpets when it was their turn to play sounded like dying vultures squawking! Terrible.

Many of the people who had gathered around to see it got the giggles. Myself included.

Until I felt sorry for the clock and the town of Olomouc because we were laughing at something historical that had been put together lovingly by someone, and that had likely been the pride of the town during its heyday. This made me cry again and I had to walk away!

I guess it was just an emotional day for me!

The rest of the day was lovely, walking around seeing the sights, taking photos. I spent some time in a park just watching the world go by and soaking in the sun.

One of the things I noticed was that there were a lot of fathers with babies in prams or young children in pushers. Fathers without any sign of mothers. For some reason that made my heart smile. These men loved their children and I imagined a bunch of stay at home dads in Olomouc. There was even a child care facility in the park and I saw seven dads and only one woman with children.

I had noticed, while I was in Prague, that the men in the relationships were attentive, loving, and affectionate to their girlfriends/wives in public too. Another observation that made my heart smile. They had no qualms about public displays of affection and love and that is – in my opinion – a sign of a secure man.

When I was done exploring, I went back to the same restaurant as the night before and ordered the exact same dinner as the night before. The acupuncturist had told me fried rice and soup would be good for the embryo, and I wanted to eat what was good for her/him.

One more sleep in Olomouc before making my way back to Prague and then home to Canada.

Warm smiles and Love,

March 30, 2017, continued…

Having communicated with my future little one in my journal, I was feeling calmer and ready for what was to come next… though still a bit disconnected.

Acupuncture:

L the acupuncturist arrived on time at 9am.

For some reason I stalled a bit getting to her. I guess things were starting to get real.

The hotel helped me stall, by making the elevator take forever. I was on the 7^th floor, the top floor, and sometimes the elevator actually took 10 minutes to arrive. This was one of those times. I was grateful for the breather.

L was lovely, she took the time to explain things on the way up in the elevator and set my mind at ease when we got to the room, explaining again what to do. Take of your leggings (I was wearing a dress with leggings) lay on the bed, head at the foot. And she went to wash her hands.

That was a good sign, washing her hands!

Then she told me that some points might hurt a little bit. And that if they hurt it was a sign that those points needed attention.

She swabbed the points before inserting the needles with alcohol.

Then she started at my crown.

Yowch!

She put in four needles and every one of them hurt. I not only felt the prick of needle breaking skin, but the spot she chose was tender. I told her so, “unbearable?” she asked… “no.” “Good then we have the right spots.”

Next she did my hands, the right one hurt quite a lot – not unbearable, but still painful. And the left one didn’t really hurt at all after the initial prick.

Then points on my knees, ankles and feet. Knees and ankles hurt, left knee, right ankle. I wondered how I was supposed to relax while this was happening.

I did though, not completely and my brain didn’t switch off, it was still running over a checklist of things I would need, and things to take to the clinic with me, and what I would do after the clinic, where to get lunch and dinner, what to watch later.

When 45 minutes was up she started to remove the needles. I was grateful that was over, and prayed the discomfort was helping.

Then we drove to the clinic. She seemed stressed to get me there – I was not at all stressed, in fact, I was completely calm. I was not worried about being a few minutes late at all. Not even worried about the address because she had GPS.

I remembered thinking how without her getting to the clinic would have been much more stressful for me and that I would have likely been in a state of panic about how to get there. But now she did all the panicking for me, and I was free to be relaxed and calm.

I was super grateful – she was another angel on my trip. A sign perhaps?

We parked across from a pharmacy and then had to walk a block back to the clinic. I was glad of that too because I needed to go to the pharmacy after and now we knew where it was.

There was a coffee shop in the clinic building and she was going to wait there for me, but first she came upstairs to make sure I was in the right place and to find out how long to wait.

The Clinic:

My first impressions were: clean, bright (everything was white), and spacious. I was grateful for all of these things as it gave the impression of a hospital, or a professional clinic. Phew!

The first person we spoke to did not speak English at all, and I was grateful for L being there. Then I met my coordinator.

She was beautifully striking, well groomed and proud looking – a bit like all of the Czech people I’ve come across so far.

L left and my coordinator and I sat and talked.

She wanted my paperwork first.

So we went through that. Then she asked me for E’s phone number. My mind went, “Eek!” did I have it?

I did, and I gave it to her. Relieved that I had the numbers, because my brain was drawing a blank.

Then she asked for his email address… oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

I hesitated, then to stall I started to check my phone and she said “you know, your partners email…”

I felt busted, I made one up, and gave that to her then I told her some story about how he has several and I wasn’t sure which one to give and she assured me they wouldn’t email it, they just needed to have one.

Feeling sheepish, and like I’d done something wrong, I started babbling about how we met, and that we were planning on moving to the East coast, and that we currently work in separate provinces and how hard long distance has been, and how long we’ve been talking about children, and how we started off on the adoption track…. Babble, babble, babble.

I am pretty sure she knew I was lying, but she signed the forms, filed them, and said “let’s get you upstairs for the procedure.”

Holy shit.

This is happening.

I wish I was excited but mostly I was wondering what the hell I was doing.

She tried to make small talk on the way up the elevator, things like “are you excited?”

It was hard to express how I was feeling.

So I blurted out “I’m scared, and now I’m wondering if I even want a baby.”

She laughed it off, “of course you do.”

How is everyone else so certain when I’m not?

I mean, I do want a baby, or I think I do, don’t I? I want the end result: a baby, or at least the idea of it appeals to me, the actuality – I don’t know just yet.

Perhaps I am afraid to really want it. I’ve really wanted it before and been shattered when it didn’t eventuate.

She had me sit in a waiting room for a few minutes while she talked with the doctor. There was one man and a couple sitting in there too. The man I presume was waiting for his wife, and the couple waiting for their treatment.

No one looked freaked, nor happy, everyone looked a bit “blank”.

Then she took me in to meet the doctor.

We’re going to call him Dr Scrumptious (Dr. S for short), because he was a bit of all right!

He too expected me to be excited. I didn’t know what to say, I am not a good liar on the spot. He only spoke a little English so my coordinator translated and I’m sure she said I was super excited. Even though I probably I looked as scared as a rabbit cornered by wolves.

He told me that the embryo they had for me was a 6 day fully hatched blastocyst and of the highest quality, he felt certain it would result in a pregnancy.

Oh boy. Pregnancy.

He asked if I had any questions. That morning while laying in bed I’d had plenty of questions, now I was drawing a blank. So I asked the only things I could think of…

What should I do with the rest of my day? They told me that I should take it easy, nothing strenuous, no running but walking was fine, no hot tubs, no swimming, no baths. Showers were fine. No heavy lifting for a few days.

I asked about lifting my suitcase on and off the train in a couple of days and the doctor was like “pfft, that will be fine” (except he said it in Czech and it was translated by my coordinator).

Then when I had no more questions, my coordinator led me to a little changing room that was off the procedure room.

The Transfer:

She told me to take my underwear off and wrap myself in a sheet.

I was wearing a dress so didn’t use the sheet as a wrap, instead I carried it in my arms like a safety blanket.

Then I went through the doors. The procedure room was large, white and sparsely furnished, the only thing I saw was a TV mounted high in the corner of the room and under it a cabinet/desk combination, then smack in the middle was the table with the enormous stirrup things, surrounded by screens and medical type stuff.

At my coordinator’s gesture I hopped up on the table and laid down sticking my legs in the stirrups. They were super high up and I struggled to get my legs into them with my little shorties. These were made for a much taller person it seemed.

My entire underside was uncovered, completely exposed, and because of the positioning of my legs wide ‘open’ to anyone on that side of the room. Breezy!

Several people came in. Nurses walking around, two doctors, and my coordinator; everyone had a good look at my wide open vulva.

I felt uncomfortable and yet strangely invisible… as a human being.

My girlfriends who have had babies laughed at this and told me to “get used to it” pregnancy and childbirth takes all of your most private parts and stretches, exposes, and removes all sense of dignity.

Was I ready?

One nurse, who entered the room came over and covered my area with some of the paper stuff they had lining the bed. I thanked her and she smiled.

My coordinator told me to look up at the TV screen. There was my embryo. I asked my coordinator to please take a photo, and she did:

Looking at it on the screen I felt as forlorn and alone as my 6 day old embryo looked.

She told me that it had been thawed today and was looking healthy and ready for implantation.

It was then I remembered that I was there to have that embryo inserted into my body to make me PREGNANT!

I had a moment of not wanting to go ahead, and wondered what would happen if I upped and walked out.

Of course I wouldn’t do that, it was not my style. My style is to go through with something I didn’t want to do, and beat myself up about it later!

I ran through the whole process I’d been through so far. All the emails, all the forum discussions, all the conversations with friends…. I wanted this, didn’t I? I’d certainly worked hard enough to get here. I even flew across the world to do this. So I did want it right?

Sure.

Then Dr. S arrived and broke my train of thought.

Like a God, the sea of people parted ways for him to enter the vagina zone.

His bedside manner was a little rough but he exuded confidence and ease in his surroundings and I appreciated that above comfort.

He whipped the cover away and sat down to have a look.

At the same time a nurse put the ultrasound thing on my stomach. She was pressing lightly and Dr. S took it from her and dug into my pelvis with it. I thought perhaps he was trying to embed the scanner into my spine he was so deep with it.

Then he gestured for her to hold it.

She did.

At that point and without warning, he slathered my area with lube and immediately put the clampy thing in opening me up. It was a bit shocking and made me wonder if he makes love the same way.

Yep, my brain went there.

As if on cue, he was looking at a screen beside me that I couldn’t see because it was facing away from me, he leaned on my legs like they were arm rests specifically put there for him. His bare arms felt warm, beefy, strong and soft all at once. It was a nice sensation him draped across me, familiar, comfortable, like he was completely at ease with my nakedness.

I definitely had a crush, which I think is a nice thing to have when someone is impregnating you…right?

Though, now I really wished I’d shaved my legs that morning!

My coordinator told me that he was now going to look around for the perfect spot to launch the embryo.

Then she said “see they’ve just put the embryo into the syringe.”

I looked at the TV screen and it was now empty.

Empty…

Last chance.

I could feel him insert it, then poke around inside my uterus.

Did I want this? I closed my eyes and searched my soul.

Yes. I wanted this. All fears aside, I wanted this.

Again he leaned his arms on my legs as he looked for the perfect place while he maneuvered the catheter inside of me.

His warmth was soothing and I felt my body relax.

Then I felt a “pinch” just as he said “done”.

I had been staring at the clock on the wall, it read: 10:53am. A 9 – A good sign for me, meaningful.

My coordinator said, “you’re all done”.

Then the hive of people around me launched into activity.

The doctor turned the screen he’d been looking at and gestured to the screen.

Then he shook my hand, which was awkward as he leaned between my still upright and wide open legs, and I was having trouble lifting my torso, while looking at the screen. Then he and his assistant doctor  left the room.

My coordinator told me that the dot on the screen was the embryo inside of me.

Another nurse moved the cursor so the arrow pointed to the screen. I took two photos of the screen (not good ones) and felt myself moved to tears.

I swallowed them back and pretended all was well.

A nurse was wiping off my belly and the inside of my thighs, then she pulled the blanked down to cover me, then added a piece to the end of the table so my legs could lie out flat.

They told me I was to lie flat for the next 15 minutes to allow the embryo a calm environment so it could adjust.

It was bright in that room and I was grateful to have my scarf.

When the last person left the room, I covered my eyes and tried to meditate. I spoke internally to the embryo and let her know I was there for her, that this was all very weird for us both, but that I hoped to provide the best environment for her growth and then for her life.

Her. Yes, I keep calling the embryo a her. Premonition?

I’ve always wanted a boy, but perhaps this was a reminder that only a healthy baby matters, gender does not?

When my 15 minutes were up my coordinator came back into the room, helped me get up, then said to get dressed and she would meet me on the other side of that door.

I went back into the dressing room and put my clothes on, and cleaned up all the lube and stuff.

Then we went over the care plan for the next few days and wrote a prescription for the rest of the drugs I would need.

The care plan included: No sex for two weeks, no baths or swimming for 12 weeks, no extreme activity, or extreme heavy lifting. I think that was all.

Then I paid for the procedure, and with a final hug, I left to find L.

Our next stop was the pharmacy to fill the prescription. It was a stupid amount of meds! Here’s a photo of all of the boxes lining my suitcase: (Note: I ended up carrying them on because I felt uncomfortable having them in my checked baggage.)

Then another acupuncture session. This time she used slightly different points – not the top of my head (thank goodness) but the top of my forehead instead. And several other points on my legs and hands, including one on my wrists.

Once again, not pleasant, but not unbearable.

When the session was over, she gave me a pamphlet on what to eat and what to avoid, along with some herbal pills that she told me would help the pregnancy.

Then she left, and I stayed lying on the bed my mind a whirr.

I tried meditation, and when 30 minutes passed without feeling more relaxed, I decided to get up and get some food.

L had suggested fried rice, vegetables, and soup for dinner. So I wandered back into Olomouc to the Vietnamese restaurant next to the grocery store I’d seen the day before and ordered exactly that.

Then I walked back to the hotel (about 15 minutes) and ate my dinner, then lazed around the rest of the day uploading photos, reading, watching TV, and napping.

Thoughts of what had transpired, of the embryo transfer, of what could potentially result were far from my mind – back in the land of disconnect.

Secretly though, I really hoped it worked – and occasionally I would sneak a hand onto my belly protectively (while I wasn’t looking! Haha.)

I really wanted this baby.

Warm smiles and Love,

How do I feel?

I wish I could say I was excited. I wish I was excited.

I don’t feel anything much at all really. It’s just another day. I woke at 5:30am to insert the Progesterone, dozed for another 45 minutes or so, then did my early morning Reiki session, followed by my morning dose of Estrogen, showered, went to breakfast, and now I’m here waiting for the Acupuncturist to arrive so she can do her thing.

Like a… well, I actually don’t know what… I’ve just adapted to the new normal. Drugs on a schedule, sure that’s just part of my day now, acupuncture, sure, that’s something we are doing today. Transfer, another stop on my itinerary.

The Symphony – that was exciting for me. I was looking forward to that since the day I looked into it, and even more so once I bought my tickets. Very exciting. And it was amazing! So breathtaking it brought me to tears.

This, the transfer, is just another part of my vacation, another stop, another destination…it doesn’t feel like something special or exciting.

Symphony exciting, baby making… meh.

Is that weird? Wrong? Does it mean I don’t care if I have a child?

A child does feel like something I want, and have wanted for some time… but it is not something I can get excited about because I’m not sure I believe it will work out.

I did believe in Adoption. It didn’t work out. Once bitten perhaps.

So this just feels like something I’m doing, the end result does not really feel like a reality or like something tangible that I can believe in enough to be excited.

Symphony, I had the tickets in hand. Exciting.

Baby transfer, only a 50/50 chance of it working. So it’s not really “in hand”, just another destination on my trip.

What am I looking forward to today?

Relaxing afterward! Having this part done with so I can come back to the hotel and chill for the day reading a book, or copying photos and updating Facebook, maybe doing some writing or editing and post to my blog.

Those things are exciting to me. I believe they can happen for me.

I am looking forward to exploring Olomouc tomorrow and finding the astronomical clock… exciting.

Although I say “exciting” and I’m not all that fussed about that either. I see it or I don’t.

I’m having trouble connecting.

Why is that?

Other people are more excited about this process for me than I am.

And that makes me feel like a fraud.

That might be why I don’t like to tell people about my life, because they have opinions that are not in alignment with mine and that makes me question whether I’m having appropriate responses.

Which of course, all of my responses are appropriate. They are after all MY responses!

So I don’t get excited about things until they are in hand, so what if I’m more even keeled most of the time, that’s a good thing right? And so what if every day is a “normal” day? If I make whatever is new in my life my normal. That’s also a good thing isn’t it?

Of course it is.

I do believe that anything I choose is appropriate. No one else’s opinion matters.

What I know to be true is that whatever life presents to me I will take in my stride and make it the best life for me that I can.

So, to my future child….

Good luck today, I’m quietly rooting for you…and if I’m the mom for you then I look forward to meeting you in 8.5 months or so.

I’ll always be there for you, but I may not always be the best parent, so forgive me as I learn what you need and attempt to give it to you or help you achieve it yourself.

I might also be selfish sometimes, I have needs too, but I will always love through it. I hope we will love each other through anything that we face.

Canada is a wonderful place to live, and you will have dual citizenship to Australia as well, which will provide an opportunity for travel for you. And we will come back to visit your origin story of the Czech Republic.

You will be blessed in this life, and I will support you to be, do, or have anything that your heart desires – or at least I will teach you about law of attraction so you can continue to be the magnificent creator that you are already.

Sometimes I forget that I too am a magnificent creator, I hope you will remind and guide me too.

I know that you will have much to teach me and I am a ready student. You are closer to our source than I after so many years of living, and I’m eager to revel in the beauty of your knowledge and connection.

We will have a good life together, and despite what I said above, there will be excitement too. Perhaps having you ‘in hand’ will be the key that opens the door to my bubbling over with joy in every day. I hope so, but that’s a lot of pressure for a little one, so do not fret, we will for sure be happy whether I bubble or I’m even-keeled. Even is good too. Even will give you the opportunity to soar.

And we will go to symphonies! Perhaps we will create them.

So my little Sagittarius, you will be magnificent, bold, brave, and altogether amazing. I already believe in you and the great things you will do, the people you will help, the inspiration you will bring to others, the joy you will spread, and the love you will give freely and honestly.

Honesty is important to you and integrity too. I know, because I am a Sagittarius too. We two will be a perfect combination, especially for our first time as parent and child.

I love you already, and I look forward to getting to know you.

Warm smiles and Love,

(Mom)