Seven Months Down

Hello friends and family.  It has been a very long month since I posted anything, and since I felt like myself.  I've been slightly under the weather.  For a month.  After I recovered from my bug bites -- which were oh-so-fun, in and of themselves -- I got a sore throat, which developed into a cough, which -- over a weekend, naturally -- left me feeling like I couldn't breathe.  So, off to the docs I went, C in tow, to discover that I had some sort of pneumonia/bronchitis and a sinus infection and my little C had bronchitis and an ear infection.  Then, a couple of days later, C got the tummy bug from her father, which I mercifully escaped.  We've taken more antibiotics and other medications than I care to think about.  Took me a good 3 weeks to get over that bout of sickness, and it's only this week that I'm really feeling back to normal.  I know you're more susceptible to illness when you're pregnant but geez!!  Hoping this is the last of it for a while.... {knocks wood}

Speaking of pregnancy, this one is FLYING by.  I had heard that about second pregnancies and, guess what? It's true.  Sometimes I feel as though I'm not paying this pregnancy as much attention (or focusing on it as fully) as I did when I was expecting C.  That might have something to do with moving half way across the world, trying to make this house feel like home, and all while having an almost 4 year-old with boundless energy who is definitely keeping me on my toes!  Nevertheless, this baby is certainly making its presence known - I think it's already a tango aficionado, by the feel of things.  Sleep is getting more uncomfortable, and I think I have only a couple more weeks of being able to buckle my shoes.  Braxton Hicks contractions are in full swing - forgot how much fun those are!  But I'm thankful every day for this little peanut (actually, my book says it's as big as a butternut squash now) in my belly.

For those who have asked - this is me last week at 28 weeks.  Feeling rather large these days - larger much quicker than the first time around!

I'm currently 7 months (29 weeks) pregnant and due on New Years Day -- how's that for timing?! -- and I think that the time between now and then is going to fly.  We have decided to keep the gender a surprise, as we did when we were expecting C.  For us, it's the best surprise: that moment after all that hard work, when you find out what you've been carrying for all those months!  We flip-flop back and forth between thinking it's a boy and thinking it's a girl.  We have a list of names for both genders; we have one clear favorite for a boy and a top 3 for girl.  Picking a name is no easy task!  We're also not telling anyone what our picks are - we're all about the big surprises over here!  It drives our families -- well, certain members of my family for sure (ahem...R) -- crazy at times, but hopefully they don't really mind too much!

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C seems to be very excited about the baby. She says ‘hi’ to the baby and sings to it and rubs my belly. She is also convinced that it's a girl; no question that it might be a boy, which reminds me of what my then-4-year-old brother said when we were awaiting the arrival of our littlest brother: "I want it to be a boy or a car."  Thankfully for my mother, it was a boy.  Well, we shall see soon enough if C is right!  She's going to be a wonderful big sister. She adores babies and I know she'll take good care of this one, too.

This also happened this week: "Look at my lipstick, just like yours".  Thank goodness for washable marker!

Another challenge: I haven't been pregnant in extreme heat before. We're not even in the Mauritian summer yet and already during the middle of the day I feel like I'm melting!  Anyone got any tips on how to stay cool, other than the obvious "stay inside”?  Thankfully my sweet, dear Mama-friend in Virginia shared her summertime maternity clothes with me and that has been a lifesaver, given that almost everything I wore when expecting C was for brisk Irish weather.  Between that and a couple of trips to Gap Maternity, I'm doing okay.

I haven't had any crazy cravings, and I didn't really last time either.  I eat more apples than I can keep track of, and - if I'm being totally honest - the fact that they have Cadbury's Dairy Milk chocolate here is NOT. GOOD. AT. ALL.  :Sigh:  Somehow I have managed not to gain much weight so far this time around.  When I was expecting C, I gained about 45lbs (can't believe I just admitted that).  I did lose almost 30lbs in the first week after I had her, so I know that most of it was water weight.  I don't know whether it's eating gluten-free that's helping me this time, but I've gained maybe 15lbs so far and I cannot understand how (see chocolate reference above, not to mention the copious amounts of Indian food we consume in this house).  My feeling is that if I'm eating well, healthily, with the occasional treat (or two), then it's all good.  Right?!

On a more serious note, the month of October is Infant & Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month (the day of remembrance was on October 15th).  If you are one of many, many Loss Mothers (or Loss Fathers), my heart is with you.  This terrible loss touches more people than you can imagine. Really, it does, but perhaps because that grief is so consuming and so personal, it's not something that is really talked about.   Losing someone you haven't met, yet love so much, is a real, heart-wrenching grief.  It's certainly something to think about (and think twice before asking someone when they're going to hurry up and have kids), particularly this month.  I never take this pregnancy for granted and always try to remember that, while I'm complaining about my sore back or getting up 3 times a night or any of the other 'joys' that come with pregnancy, I am so blessed and lucky to be able to have these complaints to begin with.  Remembering all those little angels who never had a chance to meet their parents, who love them and miss them every day.

On Home

“Home wasn't a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.” 

~ Sarah Dessen, What Happened to Goodbye

My homes, so far.

There's no place like...well, we all know how that ends, don't we?  And to be completely honest, that's instinctively how I've felt since I set foot on Irish soil two days ago.  It feels like I've never really left Dublin - perhaps I've just returned after a long weekend away somewhere.  As if I can hop on the Dart and return to our apartment on Pembroke Road, just as we'd did a million times before we left.  It's a strange feeling, this feeling of belonging to a place I haven't set foot on in over two years.  Strange, but comforting.

This feeling has left me contemplating home: the idea, the meaning of what and where and with whom home is.  I joke that I am a "global nomad", a moniker even more fitting given the new path we have taken in the last year.  I dread the question "where are you from?".  My childhood was spent straddling the Irish Sea -  each Summer and Winter was spent in the UK until I was 15, no matter where else in the world we called home for the remainder of the year.  The first home I remember, for the first 6 years of my life, was in London, in a flat in the North of the city.  I remember it as clearly as if I were there yesterday.  It had an interior courtyard with a small garden, with low walls that I used to walk as if on a balance beam, Sue gripping my hand tightly when I felt unsure of my footing.  My bedroom had multi-coloured star wallpaper, a bright window, and my beloved box set of Beatrix Potter books on the bookshelf.  The very same books that are on C's bookshelf, in her bedroom now.

Where I grew up in London.  via

When our family had grown from three to five (plus the addition of Sue, our family's wonderful nanny who lived with us for 27 years, and who we all miss every day), we hopped back over the Irish Sea to Rostrevor, Northern Ireland, where we spent the following five years in a big old Georgian house, painted rose pink, with sprawling gardens lined with daffodils in the early spring and roses in the summertime.  The house was nestled within rhododendron bushes the size of oak trees, and behind it was a dilapidated old farm, in which the ghosts of the animals once housed there captured my imagination and inspired many a play time with my siblings.  They were very happy years for us, despite the less than happy state of Northern Ireland at that time.

You can just about see our Rostrevor home in this photo, hidden in the trees.  via

In the early 90's, a drastic move brought my family across the Atlantic to Birmingham, Alabama, where my formative years were spent.  Again, for me these were most happy years, I was very fortunate to slip easily into schools I loved and make lifelong friends.  I was so fortunate to have a very happy childhood.  From there I went to Washington DC, Paris, New York, and North Carolina - all homes of varying duration for me as an adult.  And aside from holidays here and there, I did not return to live in Ireland until late 2007 - 2011.  All of this has resulted in some rather confused feelings about where, and what, I consider 'home'.

Vulcan, overlooking downtown Birmingham (or, the Magic City, as it's lovingly referred to).

I always - first and foremost - identify myself as being Irish, even though I'm a dual-passport carrying Irish and US citizen.  I'm Irish in my blood, it's the country of my birth, it's where my family reside.  It is home to many memories of my youth and subsequent years, and, as such, I think it understandable and fair that I call and consider myself Irish, although almost everyone who meets me (especially the Irish) identifies me as American.  An unwilling "accent chameleon", I truly cannot control the accent with which I speak - it's not something I have ever been able to do.  My first accent was a posh little London accent, quickly replaced by a Northern Irish accent, and then a sweet Southern (American) drawl for our years spent in the Deep South.  All of this was unwilling and unintentional.  These days, I sound almost entirely American, perhaps with an bit of Irish thrown in here or there.  It all makes for a very confused cultural identity, and lots of very confused looks when I tell people that no, I actually AM Irish, born and bred.

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Having said all that, I have always felt very much at home in the States.  Perhaps that's because the majority of my closest friends live there.  Or the fact that I've spent the majority of my life living there, particularly during those important formative years.  But the conflicting notion of home is something I find very hard to explain to others - it's not something many people can relate to.  And all this moving - this uprooting - has resulted in my not being able to fathom the idea of living in one place for the rest of my life.  How would I do that?  Could I do that?  I'm not sure I could happily do that.  Unlike so many of my friends who grew up and now still live in the same place, my family (immediate and by marriage) is on two sides of a rather large ocean, not all in the same town or city.  P and I will always live with at least one of us being far away from our family.  It just doesn't seem to be our reality to put down roots anywhere.  Having DC as a home-base at the moment is about as close as we will come to that, at least for now.

P + I as newlyweds, outside the first place that we ever called home, in Fayetteville, NC, 2006.

As I grow older and - I hope - wiser, I'm coming to learn that home really, truly is where the heart is.  Could it sound any more cliché?  For me, at this moment in my life, the majority of my heart is here in Mauritius, with my husband, my daughter, and this little munchkin in my belly.  But I feel that I've left little pieces of my heart scattered across the globe: in Ireland with my family there; in London, my brother's home and a city I haven't lived in for over 25 years that still holds a connection for me that I can't explain; in Birmingham, a city I love so much, with friends and memories I hold dear;  in beautiful Paris where I spent six incredible but challenging and important months of my life, a city I connected with on a very personal level; in Washington DC, city of my college years, where I met the love of my life, the city that is our new home-base in this Foreign Service life.

For me, home isn't necessarily a place.  It's with the people I love and care about.  It that feeling of being flooded with a sense of peace and comfort and security as soon as I am welcomed through a door and into the embrace of a person I love and hold dear.  It's the safety of not having to explain yourself, letting any walls slip away and so you can just be you.  It's a place where, although the people who once lived there with you may now be gone, the remaining friendships and memories are enough to make me feel completely at ease.  I feel fortunate to have felt at home in quite a few places.  But most importantly, it's comforting to know that I am at home when I am with the people I love.  And as our global adventure continues, I think it's something I'll cling to more and more.

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Life In Technicolor {Photos}

Well hello!  It has been a long time since I posted a real post (anniversary post excepted).  Life kinda got in the way there for a while.  

What have we been up to?  Here's a peek:

~ In February, P & I escaped for a weekend away.  It was our first weekend away by ourselves in a long time and it was much needed.  My sister- and brother-in-law were stars and watched C so we could have some down time in Cape May, NJ - a lovely, sleepy (in the winter) seaside town that was just what the doctor ordered.  We spent our last night in the historic Congress Hall.  It was perfect.

 

 

Congress Hall.     

Georges Place.  YUM!

~ On the way home, we detoured to NJ and visited my cousin, her husband, and adorable three little girls (plus friend)!  It was great to see them!

~ My daughter sleeps on her head, which, in the morning, can frequently result in this incredible sight (please note, I did not brush this - it took me 30 minutes to gently comb the tangles out): 

~ Trader Joes had daffodils in March.  Daffodils remind me of the garden of my childhood home in Rostrevor, N. Ireland (one of the most beautiful places in the world, IMO), which had hundreds of the most beautiful daffodils I've ever seen.  They never fail to make me happy. 

~ I made French Onion Soup (recipe from this book, which is a great little read, by the way).  It was DELISH.  

~ I am 'old school' when it comes to children's shoes - I favour traditional styles.  I used to wear ones exactly like this when I was a little girl.   I think there's nothing cuter, although I'm sure she'll grow to hate them by age 7 like I did for a brief time.  Hopefully she'll fall in love with them again when she has little feet of her own to dress. (Photo by C).

Check out my shoes.

~ This exists (#griffendor4eva):

~ We took C to the circus for the first time - she was mesmerised - after which, she had great fun playing the (sassy) tattooed lady.

 

~ C's subconscious, as-yet undiscovered love for Great Britian reveals itself in the strangest ways...

~ We had a mother/daughter date a Super Why Live!  She looooved it!

~ At an evening of Opera in the Outfield, featuring Show Boat, C had a brilliant time playing dress up in the costumes before the show.  Here, C contemplates possibilities inspiration for her future wedding gown....

...but clearly favoured a more Elizabethan look:

...and she loved watching the show with her little diplo-friend, who is off to Copenhagen with her parents this summer for their next Foreign Service adventure (her Mom, by the way, has a fabulous blog - definitely check it out).

~ We took a much needed family holiday in Florida, visiting my Grandmother-in-law who lives beside my husband's childhood haunt of Pass-A-Grille Beach.  It was relaxing and just what we needed.  It was also C's first time on a beach - we could hardly get her out of the water!

We had a very experienced pilot.

The beautiful Gulf.

The Sea Horse Restaurant - a must on every visit.

My little cutie.

~ We went to a beautiful wedding in West Point, NY.  C danced the afternoon and evening away in a tent in the beautiful gardens of the Superintendant's House.

~ C was VERY excited about her new butterfly and fairy dress from her Aunty R.

~ She also paid tribute to the late Esther Williams by re-inventing the swimmer's underwater ballets on dry land.

~ Saturdays have become Daddy/Daughter donut days - they go get their donuts (and a Starbucks tea for me) while I sleep a little longer.  We all love this new tradition.  :)

~ Despite the wacky weather we've been having, we've been able to sneak in a few days poolside.  It's a tough life for some...

~ This past weekend, we visited by best friend since I was 10 years old.

...She lives with her lovely little family in Connecticut.  Her oldest daughter is 6 weeks older than C, and they hit it off like their Mamas did.  It made our hearts happy. :)

~ We went to Boston for the day where we attempted to go to the aquarium (tourist-overload-fail) and met up with my cousin and his family.

     

         

~ And finally, we (and by we I mean C) have spent a LOT of time dancing.  To anything and everything.  But lately, to this movie which, if you know me, you'll know makes me very, very happy.  :)  

~ I won't be able to photograph the tiny little thing that has made us most happy these last few months.  He or she should be joining us around New Years Day, and we can hardly wait!

If you're still with me after the squillion photos I just posted, you deserve a pat on the back.  And possibly a stronger drink than coffee.  :)  

Have a lovely day, everyone!