Tim and Olive's Blog

In the last week, the reality that I am going to be a parent has slowly hit home on several occasions.  Last week, I had to sign some medical paperwork and as my doctor handed me the sheet and pointed to the dotted line, I was shocked to see the words, “Mother’s signature” next to the line.  I stared at it for a few seconds before signing my name.  I’m still in shock that I signed it! 

This morning, I met my OB (baby doctor) for the first time.  She used a handy little device called a Dopplar to locate our baby’s heartbeat.  T was there in the room with me when we heard the rapid fire “thump thump thump thump thump.”  It brought a huge smile to both our faces.

This afternoon, my mother-in-law took me maternity clothes shopping.  We discovered the hard way that all of the department stores at the mall no longer carry maternity clothes.  This is partly because most shirts these days are loose enough and long enough to be used as maternity clothes.  The unfortunate part is that they don’t carry pants or underwear suitable for growing bellies.  In the end, we went to the one and only “maternity” clothing store at the mall.  After picking out several items, I went to the dressing rooms to try them on.  As I tried one item, my mom-in-law would browse the store and come back with another item or two.  I felt like I tried on at least a quarter of the store!  Oh, and they had this pillow thing that I could attach to my torso to simulate what I might look like four months from now.  I put it on under several outfits.  We giggled every time I came out of the dressing room with the insta-belly.  In the end, I got a couple dresses (perfect for summer!), a pair of capri pants and a top – all as a gift from my in-laws.  (Thanks, Mom and Dad!)  I am super-excited about wearing these clothes, not only because they’re incredibly comfortable, they also let people know that I’m pregnant.  =D

T has quickly discovered that one of the quirks of having a pregnant wife is that I will be absolutely crazy about a certain food one day and completely abhor it the next (and by next, I mean day – or hour – or minute).  So he gave me a piece of sound advice to keep in mind every time I go out for groceries:  Don’t buy anything in bulk!  Let me tell you, I have been terribly tempted at times to buy lots of whatever it is I’m craving at the moment.  But I’ve learned to listen to the voice of reason – and these days it sounds very much like the voice of my husband.  And I’m super glad.  Because otherwise, I’d probably be stuck with lots of Triscuits, cucumbers, hummus, cranberry juice, goat mozzarella and other things I don’t even remember liking anymore.  And I’d have a fridge full of half-eaten meals.  Oh wait, our fridge IS full of half-eaten meals. 

On another note, I realized I often gag when I brush my teeth these days.  I’m wondering if it’s the minty toothpaste.  So I’m trying kids “fruit flavoured” toothpaste for now.  It tastes more like bubble gum but I figure if it’ll help me actually get a decent teeth-brushing instead of a race-against-the-gag kind of teeth-brushing, it’ll be worth it.  And if the taste doesn’t help, maybe all the Toy Story characters on the toothpaste tube will distract me enough.  ;)

The Lord’s Supper.  The Lord’s Table.  The Holy Meal.  The Eucharist.  Communion.  These all refer to the same sacrament that has marked Christ-followers through the ages.

I grew up knowing that it was a sacred practice but not really thinking of it as anything more than crackers and juice that we would have every first Sunday of the month to “remember the death of Jesus.”  When I moved to Vancouver, I started attending a service that celebrated it weekly.  I’m not sure if it was the frequent repetition of the act or something the Holy Spirit was working in me (probably both), but in the last half a year, I’ve noticed that this practice of partaking the bread and the wine (in my case, juice) began to take on deeper meaning for me.

This past Sunday, as I came up to the communion server and tore off a piece of bread, I was embarrassed that the bread came off in a big chunk.  I was left holding a lot more than what I usually would take.  As I knelt to receive the bread dipped in juice, I told God as much.  I felt Him respond to me, “I wanted you to have a bigger piece today.  It is a symbol of the extra portion of grace I want to give you.  You will need a large measure of grace in this coming week.”  In that mysterious moment, He nourished me and promised me sustenance for the week ahead that I already know will not be an easy one.   

Yesterday, we spent the whole day at a hospital, keeping vigil by a relative in her last hours on earth.  I could not help but feel a sense of holiness in the moment.  Death is such a mystery.  A secret known only by God.

Yet even as I contemplated the departure of this relative, I also reflected on the formation of new life in my belly.  Conception, too, is a mystery and a secret known only by God.  How a human is knit together in the unseen places is hard to fathom. 

We have yet to tell our extended family that we are expecting.  Part of me wishes they could have known yesterday so that in the midst of grief, there could still be a glimmer of hope.  They will know soon enough.  My sister-in-law called it “Lion King” ish – the cyclical nature of the circle of life.  But isn’t that true though?  And isn’t that the good news of Jesus?  That in the midst of death, there is new life waiting to be born.

Today, we went to see my family doctor for our first prenatal appointment.  It seems like everything’s ok!  She referred us to an obstetrician (aka, the OB, or what T calls “the baby doctor”) in our area who happens to be female and asian (I was surprised when I heard her name – I guess I had expected a caucasian male doctor?  haha).

After giving me a thorough check-up, she sent me down to the lab to get some more tests done.  Eight vials of blood (ok, maybe it was six or seven, but it sure felt like eight!) and a urine sample later, I was free to leave.  I really had not expected so many tests.  And she said this was only half of them!

We have another appointment with the family doctor next week to finish the other half of the tests and fill in a big chart for the OB.  According to the doctor today, my projected due date is November 29, 2011.  We’ll see what the OB says.

Good news is that I’m only a couple weeks away from the end of this secretly sicky and tired first trimester.  =)

Thirty years ago today, you welcomed me into the world.  You probably had no idea what you were getting yourselves into.  But perhaps that was a good thing.

Today, as I mark 30 years of being alive, I wanted to publicly say THANK YOU.

Mom, words cannot express all the things I have learned from you and all the ways you have influenced me.  Despite the fact that you did not grow up with a mother of your own, by the grace of God, you managed to be a most excellent mother to me.  Thank you for deciding to leave your job and commit your days to rearing me starting the day I was born.  I treasure the time you invested in me, the attention you gave to me and the way you listened to me, disciplined me and encouraged me.  Thank you for discovering and learning along with me.  Some of my favourite childhood memories are of us watching our little patch of garden grow and planting different things each year.  Thank you as well for your passionate love for Jesus.  I learned from your example how to look for and see God in the everyday situations of life.  You inspire me.

Dad, I am so proud to call you my father.  You are a model to me of what hard work, perseverance and patience look like.  Thank you for providing for our family and working the long hours when I was young.  Thanks for setting time aside to come and support me in my countless ballet recitals, art shows and theatre productions.  Thank you for believing the best in me and treating me with respect and trust.  You did not have the privilege of growing up knowing your dad.  In spite of that, you became an amazing father.  Thank you for consistently seeking after God’s heart.  I will always remember the many early mornings where you would sit at your desk pouring over the scriptures.  I learned from your example how to keep seeking after God no matter whether times are good or difficult.  You inspire me.

Mom and Dad, as I continue to grow and mature, I find myself appreciating you more and more.  You are truly both quality people and I am so thankful God chose you to be my parents.

Congrats on 30 years of parenting!  I love you.

This week, baby is the size of an olive.  =) 

What’s amazing to me is that he/she already has everything that makes up a human body.  Measuring at just about an inch, the baby already has fully formed eyes, ear lobes, internal organs, fingers and toes – everything!  It tells me that God is a God of details.  I can’t imagine trying to make a functioning sculpture that small.

What amazes me more is that the olive-sized little being is merely what we can observe.  God alone is aware of this new person’s personality, likes, dislikes, and character – what we cannot see about him or her.  That is the stuff that we will spend the rest of our lives trying to discover!   

I have been pondering the mystery of God lately.  This is one of those instances that brings me into that realm of mystery.

It’s said that one of the effects of pregnancy is vivid dreams.  In the past week, I have dreamt about paragliding onto a ship, escaping from an evil witch and her minions, driving to a retreat on a First Nations reserve and one of my professors asking to take home some of my chow mien.  Haha.  With these kinds of adventures, I’m fully content living in my 2-bedroom apartment all day long!

In general though, I can identify several themes in my dreamland.  They all pretty much relate to my physical/wakeful state of being:  food (because I’m feeling hungry and need to get up to eat), trying not to tell people that I’m pregnant, telling people that I’m pregnant, and trying to find a bathroom (because I actually need to get up and go).

I really look forward to when I can tell people we’re expecting.  Four more weeks of secrecy!  In a way though, I am glad we chose to only tell our immediate family until the first trimester is over.  I feel like it gives me some space to finish up my schoolwork and do some internal spring cleaning before the next big thing gets ushered into my life.  I want to capitalize on this time of not needing to mention the baby in every conversation and remember that there are many other topics of interest out there.  For that reason, I have yet to put my hands on a single baby book.  I figure once the world knows, I’ll have books and advice aplenty.

Every day is now an experiment in what I like to eat and what I don’t like anymore.  The latest development has been hot sauce and pepper.  I discovered that if I add pepper or just a bit of hot sauce to my food, I don’t get the gaggy-I-want-to-throw-up feeling before I reach the end of the meal.  I never used to like either.

I’m still loving fruit.  Although I haven’t been as crazy about oranges as I was when I first found out I was pregnant (they were and still are pretty much the only thing I’ve found that I can stomach first thing in the morning). 

Meat is definitely less appetizing.  Sigh.

Why do you care about this?  I don’t know.  But it’s fascinating to me, how I’m changing, and so you get to read about it.  =)

I’ve never been a barfy sort of person.  Whenever I get a stomach bug, I usually don’t throw up (I’ll spare you the details as to what actually happens).  Even after getting pregnant, I’ve considered myself blessed that my nausea only shows up every so often, and that it hasn’t resulted in me running to the bathroom.  All this to say, I don’t have much experience with vomit.

Until this morning.

Today was the first time I actually lost half my breakfast.  Surprisingly, I felt much better after the fact.  And I learned an important lesson:  if you’re gonna throw up, do it in the toilet.  NOT the sink!  Makes for better clean up.  There’s a reason why people in movies are bent over toilets, folks.  And not just because it’s more dramatic.

On the bright side, I guess it was good practice for all the times I’ll be cleaning up what my baby will spit up.