Cyrus goes to the pool

Today Cyrus went to the pool for the first time. He was really looking forward to wearing his over sized swim nappies and uv protective bathers.

Pre-swim sleep

At the pool we met Megan and Cyrus's best friend, Jayden.

Cyrus and Jayden

Cyrus continues to tolerate his mother's whims rather well. He cried when we first hit the water (even in Darwin, in the wet season, the water is cold to a 10 week old), but then he settled quickly. Still, he looked at me a few times as if to say, ''Why the hell are we taking such a cold bath?" After 30 minutes, a few reluctant smiles and several strong leg kicks (I'm convinced this is demonstrative of his natural swimming ability), we both tired. The fun was over when Cyrus lost control of his neck muscles and did a face plant in the water.

Wheeeee....

Post-swim sleep

A man with no country

While the novelty and political freedom of being stateless were compelling reasons not to apply for citizenship, we figured Cyrus would have enough challenges spelling his own name. So last weekend we flew to the US Consulate in Melbourne to make Cyrus a US Citizen. Here are answers to the questions we asked prior to buying airline tickets, making the appointment and having David's mom overnight our 2005 US tax documents.

1. No, Cyrus was not automatically conferred Australian citizenship for being born in Darwin.
2. No, there is not a US Consulate in Darwin.
3. No, the forms cannot be submitted online or by mail -- they must be submitted in person.
4. Yes, the child must be present.

Seriously?

5. Yes, the child must be present.
6. Yes, we must detail our physical presence in the United States. This includes documenting Jenni's spring break trips to Cozumel, Mexico in high school.
7. No, Jenni did not remember the exact dates of the above trips.
8. Yes, we had to bring our marriage certificate (to prove Cyrus was not born out of wedlock?)

Of course we had other questions, but the e-mail response from the US gov't said, "Please do not respond to this e-mail."

So we shelled out the money for plane tickets, reserved a room at a hotel across the street from the Consulate, made the appointment and completed the paperwork for Cyrus's citizenship, passport and social security card.

And...

...a week before our appointment, the Consulate called to cancel. Apparently the "Secretary of State" (whoever that is) was going to be in Melbourne and this took precedence. But our anger won out and they agreed to keep the appointment after all. Turns out Hillary had to cancel her widely anticipated Australia-New Zealand tour because of the Haiti earthquake.

Cyrus was very excited for his first plane trip (even if it was operated by JetStar).



We promised to leave enough food for our cats, but this didn't pacify poor Hugh who wanted to come along. He even tried to disguise himself as Cyrus, but we weren't fooled.



We thought we were clever, packing everything the three of us needed into two carry-on suitcases -- but the flight attendant at the gate wasn't impressed. Apparently one of our carry-ons was too large. (If we'd cut off the wheels it would have fit in the strange metal cage that bears no physical relation to the overhead compartments.) So our bag was confiscated and put on the next flight to Melbourne and arrived at our hotel at 12pm the next day for our 3 day trip.

Cyrus slept through the whole flight to Melbourne. He was awake during most of the flight back to Darwin, but he didn't cry once. "He never does that at home."

Cyrus and Dad (who was less than happy about the confiscated luggage). Perhaps there will be a future blog solely about our hatred of JetStar airlines.


At the Melbourne airport, waiting for the shuttle bus.


The first thing Cyrus wanted to do was order room service.

Cyrus wore his favourite Darwin shirt to the US Consulate

Our cameras were confiscated by the first tier of security. Cyrus's bottle was taken at the second. I am surprised they didn't want to test my breast milk for nitroglycerin.


Continuing the tradition of going to the local Mexican restaurant. This one, called Fiesta, was actually surprisingly good, although poor David had to choke down the margarita.

Father and son at the art museum

It was so quiet in the museum, you could hear Cyrus sucking on his pacifier.


Melbourne skyline

Grandma Mary's Visit

Here are a few updated photos of Cyrus after his first month in the "real" world.

He's usually completely incoherent till his first cup of coffee in the morning.

Gaining some control over those facial muscles.

Mom and G'ma
Swimming in his jammiesPost bath time.

Basil has had a hard time adjusting to no longer being our surrogate child

We've also been preparing ourselves in order to get Cyrus his U.S. citizenship. The process, like many bureaucratic dealings, would be comical if we were on the outside. Some of the fun steps include creating a list with exact dates of all the times we were not continuously residing in the States. That would mean remembering the exact dates of a jaunt to Mexico or the like. We also have to prove that we lived in the U.S. (tax documents, rental leases, etc.). Our personal favorite is that it is mandatory to demonstrate that we are in fact married, and show a wedding certificate. We really regret now having ordered our marriage certificate from that website we found. The crayon will be a dead giveaway. Now, no matter how you might feel about having children out of wedlock, it seems cruel to exclude illegitimate children from having any kind of citizenship.

China Signs

These are some of the signs I saw in English while in China.

200 Yuan is 30 USD

China Notes Part V

Day 11 - Beijing Forbidden City

By the time the lights turned on just shy of 6 am, the day had started to feel like three separate days given only yesterday morning I had been in Xi'an at the Terracotta Warriors and now I was in Beijing. There was a very long queue for taxis at the train station. Some people in the very back of the line (50 people behind us) jumped out of line as the taxis were arriving, and would stop them and get in cutting in front of everyone. No one said a word. China apparently is a land of contracdictions. The seemingly endless amount of patience to restore the historic bronze figures and wait to open the burial chamber went out the window when waiting in line for a taxi. No one yelled at the people jumping queue which falls in line with saving face, yet we witnessed countless loud arguments between individuals, again seemingly a contradiction. Our tour operator provided us with a little guidebook, and during times like that, waiting in an endless line with people spitting everywhere it provided a little mantra for us westerners "This is China." It also provided some explanation for the lack of respect for the queue (in my opinion). When you are 1 in a billion, you have to speak for yourself because no one else will. I can't help but wonder if there is a little more to it. After all there is an entire generation of only children coming of age, the apple of their parent's eye. Anyway, I certainly can't understand the intricacies of the Chinese culture after only a few weeks.




After a quick breakfast at the hotel, and chucking the bags in a luggage lock-up (our rooms weren't ready) we headed to the Forbidden City. This is the place that is featured throughout the film The Last Emperor. We were given another local guide, who was knowledgable albeit a bit too quiet. She would have been fine, had her voice not been overwhelmed by the guides of the larger tour groups with their megaphones. I was amazed at how busy it was, but was told that it was actually a small crowd. You see these places in books, on television, or in movies, but I had no idea of the enormity of it. China is the first place I've been where I didn't think "Oh, it's smaller than I thought it would be", but instead thought "My God, it's massive."

The Forbidden City was built during the Ming Dynasty 400 years ago, and remained in use till the last Qing dynasty till the 1920s. It was built for the emporer, empress, concubines, and eunichs. It seems whenever you come across these sort of extravagant, ornate, royal palaces and residences, it is a signal the end is near, like Versaille in France. Not necessarily the generation that builds them, but the ones that grow up in their walls. The last emperor was actually the grand nephew of the empress dowager, who had started out as another nameless concubine, till she bore the emperor's son. With the deaths of the emperor\empress, the son was made emperor, but was too young to rule, so she came to power. This emperor dubiously died at 17 of smallpox and was replaced by her nephew, coincidentally, also, too young to rule. Finally, after that nephew also died dubiously, the grand nephew was enthroned.

Yellow is the official color of royalty and is everywhere in the city

This was the crowd cramming to see the Emperor's throne roomJust a few thousand of my closest friends.

Across from the Forbidden City was Tianamen square. We were asked by the guide well in advance, not to pose inappropriate questions to him about the square (e.g. the infamous tank photograph). There were a number of plain clothes security people lurking about. Probably doubled since the square was being readied for the 60th birthday celebrations of the People's Republic of China.

Our guide explaining things while two strangers listen in in the very back.

I'd stand as rigidly if the Chairman was looking over my shoulder.

Already getting the good seats for the show...

The Final Group Shot

The view back at the room.

That night a group of us went to see the Kung Fu performance show. No videoing or photography was allowed during the show, so I have nothing to show of it. It was the exact opposite of the acrobats in Shanghai though. Where the acrobats were rough around the edges, the kung fu show was extremely polished. It was interesting to watch the different techniques, but not as fun as the acrobats. Afterwards we took a taxi out to the Olympic stadium to look at the Bird's Nest and Water Cube. They were really pretty neat to look at, very creative buildings. We got there just before the lights out. The power bill must be extraordinary.

Day 12 - The Great Rabbit Proof Fence

The next day we headed out extremely early for the Great Wall. We went to a section of the wall that was a 3 hour drive from Beijing, which mean there would be fewer tourists. As I understand, the one closer to Beijing is complete with McDonalds and Starbucks. The Australians in the group called the great wall China's Rabbit Proof Fence. The wall has existed off and on for several thousands of years, the first emperor Qin even being credited with building the original. The way it stands now, the way we see it on postcards, was actually built during the Ming Dynasty (what a surprise!). I actually am making all this up, and Ming is the only dynasty I could come up with. The section of the wall we went to had spectacular views, but it was hard going slogging it up the many thousands of steps. Luckily the yellow mountain had prepared me for the hike.

For their morning exercise routine, the local women follow the tourists up to the end of the section, carrying bags of books and trinkets for us to buy. There seemed to be two for every few people. I did my best to give no indication that I was interested in anything they had or wanted their help, choosing to ignore them for the most part. They generally respected this on the way up, allowing me some moments of peaceful introspection, tracing the spine of the wall along the ridges, seemingly going on forever. However, when we reached the end of the line, the books came out and the hassling began. The more adamant in selling something to me they became, the more adamant I was in not purchasing anything. A new woman, who had not followed us on the way up, appeared out of nowhere and became my shadow - "Look, your friend buy book, you buy." After following me down two flights of steps, I finally caved and bought something cheap. She was not happy with me in the least, and after a few more tries to get me to buy something more expensive, she gave up (mumbling what was probably a curse). Only to be replaced by someone else for the rest of the way down. I was even mid-step on a very steep bit of stairs and felt someone grabbing my arm - "Postcard?" I snapped back "I'm walking down the steps." After that I was left mostly alone, but still followed. That came close to ruining my Great Wall experience. Luckily the way up was quite enjoyable.

There were dozens of centipedes crawling along this section of the Great Wall, and I'm not entirely sure why. I could almost hear the laughter of ancient sentry men as they initiated new grunts by dropping them down their backs...maybe not, but some things rarely change.

Sometimes security guards are a bit like babies, they can sleep anywhere.

Not having gotten enough of salespeople, we stopped at the Pearl Market in Beijing on the way back. The sales people were pushy, and grabbed me as I walked past. I was tired of it by then, but the difference between these sales people and the women on the wall was I went to the market, and went there to shop. I went to the wall to see the wall, not to shop. I probably could have resolved it sooner, had I just bought a book at the end of the line. Or they would have tried to get me to buy more. I do feel bad, because it is how they earn a living, and while I'm by no means as wealthy as they probably think I was, I did travel to China. They probably had never traveled outside their province, let alone the country. This was perhaps my biggest struggle with China. I have never traveled anywhere where I felt more like a walking dollar sign (or yuan sign). I suppose in some ways it is to be expected. After all, as soon as any westerner had stepped foot in China, they've done nothing but buy their goods and wares. But, boy, are there some really persistent sales people, extremely patient. Maybe I should have just stood in a taxi queue.

That night was the last dinner, and we had Peking Duck. I had been waiting the whole trip for that meal, and was not disappointed.

Day 13 Imperial Gardens

Dan and I woke up the next morning to our 7 am call for "Massage." I answered the phone, and told them no thanks, being a bit surprised because the phone call usually came at 8 in the evening. Dan, jokingly said "Why did you tell them no, I ordered that for this morning."

We all met down in the lobby that morning to catch taxi rides to the Summer Palace. We had to split up into three different taxis. We all ended up in different entrances, so our overly ambitious plan to tour the gardens ensemble did not work out. Our taxi ride took almost an hour, with the taxi driver really angry that we didn't understand his Mandarin.



The palace brings a whole new meaning to extravagance and the phrase "Because I can." for example when someone asks - "Why would you have a boat made entirely of marble?"

"Because I can."

After wandering around the gardens for the morning, I decided to head to the Jinshang gardens directly across from the Forbidden City, providing a nice bird's eye view of the complex. Jinshang is perhaps the yin to the Summer Palace's yang, or vice versa, if I may permitted to use the metaphor. Where the summer palace is royal opulent indulgences, bordering on the insane, Jingshan offers peaceful harmony. While the crowds gathered at the top for the fantastic, although hazy, views of the Forbidden City and Beijing, there are many quiet corners to sit and listen to the crickets chirping, musicians practicing, or the occasional English-speaking tourist asking their guide if they eat snake. Still, yellow tiles everywhere give away that this garden used to be an exclusive one. The last Ming emperor, fled the Forbidden City during a revolt and hung himself at the top.

Day 14 - Beijing Capital Museum

I took a much needed sleep in on this day, and then in the afternoon headed over to the Capital Museum. This was a fantastic museum, including a brief history of the city of Beijing and its role throughout the centuries as city to capital city.

Day 15 - Attempt to See Mao

I woke up with the start of a cold, but determined to go see the Chairman Mao in all his formaldehyde glory. By the time I got there (7:30) a line had formed all the way around the building, filled with bus loads of tourists. I didn't bring my camera because you couldn't take it inside and it had to be locked up in another building. I weighed my options of not seeing Mao or stand in line for hours under the sun with a cold. I chose the former. I'm actually glad I did, because I went to a shopping area before the stores opened and found a place on the second floor so I could look out on the pedestrian mall from the window. As I sat there I watched about 20 or so store clerks file out of their store and line up. They started with what looked like patty cake which transitioned into a synchronized clap routine. Some of the clerks were a bit lackluster, but most were right into it, and all knew the routine. Then they marched, quite literally, back into the store.

Day 16 - Flight back home

I took a taxi early in the morning and watched the sun rise over Beijing as we headed to the airport. China was perhaps the hardest place I've traveled in, and am glad I went with Geckos. I'm sure my experience would be different outside the tourist areas. I can definitely say I have a fondness for Chinese art and architecture, and would go back given the opportunity.

China Notes Part IV

While I could easily turn this into the "Photos of Cyrus doing Every Little Thing" blog, I thought I would try and finish up the entries from my trip to China. I left off with riding the train to Xi'an and trying to fall asleep.

Day 9 - Xi'an



View Larger Map

The lights came on automatically at 6 in the morning, and there was a mad dash to use the toilet for everyone in the train. They locked the bathrooms ten minutes before the train arrived at any station, so you had to time it right. We arrived in Xi'an a little late, and navigated our way through the train station. Xi'an is one of the oldest cities in China, and the only one with it's old city wall still intact. The city has around 8 million people, and they all seemed to be waiting for a taxi at the train station. Since we had a schedule to keep the guide made the executive decision to get a more expensive bus alternative. The salesman must have been really good when he said that he had two buses. Really it turned out to be two boxes on four wheels with a lawn mower engine hidden somewhere. In lieu of seats and seat belts there were benches that rivaled the adjustability of seats in any expensive minivan, given they weren't bolted to anything.


We stopped first at our YMCA accommodations. After cleaning up a bit we walked over to the old part of the town, making sure there was time to stop for a dumplings breakfast. Calling it the "old" part of town is a misnomer since it is now the main modern shopping area, where Walmart slums it with Prada. The old city wall encapsulates this part of town which sits next to the bell and drum towers in the middle of a giant round-about.


The wall in Xi'an has existed for thousands of years, but in it's current incarnation it is 'only' about 400 years old from the Ming Dynasty. A lot of the ancient parts of China that we see today are actually from the Ming dynasty, or repaired during then. On top of the wall we could rent bicycles to ride around the entire length of the wall on the top. About half way around I became the focus of a Chinese tourist's photos. I could see the camera pointed at me and then he waved, so I smiled and waved back. I could only imagine how I must have appeared to them - a hairy white man, too big for the bike with my knees coming close to hitting my chest, lumbering down the wall.




After the group split up, I went down to "paint" street. This was the artisan center of town, where you could buy everything from the paper and brushes to the finished product. Then I headed back past the bell and drum towers towards the Muslim Quarter. The towers were once used as timepieces - Bell for daytime, drum for night.

The Muslim Quarter houses around 100,000 Muslims, a small percentage of the 8 million people but one of the largest in this part of China. I meandered my way through the street market. The colorful sites of dried fruit and nuts mixed with the intoxicating smells of Middle Eastern spices - cardamon, cinnamon, turmeric - made it difficult to resist the barbecuing meats on a stick, but I heeded the guide's advice not to eat anything but dried fruit from there. Later I walked down a side street where I understood his reasoning. Unidentified pieces of meat sat out on counters in the midday foggy heat; some sat on blocks of ice, others cooled only by a fan, and yet others cooled by some creative device that looked like a spinning pole with rags attached. Yum! Large organs (kidneys? liver?) sat being guarded by hoards of flies. I hurried past, avoiding the smell.
As I left, cars vied for a way to enter the narrow streets of the quarter. A hierarchical game of honking horns began, starting with the little moped, then a car, and finally, the clear winner, the load thunderous horn of the garbage truck.

It was the weekend in Xi'an, and it seemed that the entire city, once having found a taxi at the train station, moved to the shopping district. No one seemed to actually go into the stores, just on the sidewalk. Xi'an is also very popular amongst Chinese tourists, and given that holidays hadn't quite ended, the swarms of people probably were a mix of tourists and locals.

Xi'an at night

That night we went out to the Big Goose Pagoda. This is an ancient pagoda that has been modernized with it's own water fountain show synchronized with music.


Day 10 - Terracotta Warriors

When I was young, not sure how old, the Denver Museum of Natural History held a traveling exhibition from China. It included many "wonderous things" as Carter might have put it. There were several of the Terracotta Warriors that I vividly remember, so perhaps it is the warriors more than anything that fuel my geographical imaginaries about China, a land of mystery and wonder. Even though I did see them before, nothing really prepared me for seeing where they sat forgotten for thousands of years till seven farm brothers decided to dig a water well. Even then it may have remained unknown if it had not been reported to an archaeologist (the brothers for their part content to ignore the find and continue with the well). The archaeologist kept relatively quiet on the matter, fearful of any remnants of the cultural revolution, himself being paraded around by zealous youths seeking to detach themselves from China's extensive history. Long gone, though, are the pastoral lands and dirt roads of when the warriors were discovered, made way for an expressway and massive complex complete with a market where those ex farmers can sell replicas of the army to the 10,000 daily visitors.

Pit 1 is to the left, pit 2 to the right, and pit 3 is not visible behind pit 2.

Our first stop was to a factory where they made those replicas, from small chess piece size to giant life size replicas. The local furniture store in Darwin actually carries two of these life size ones for only a few thousand dollars, but it was too late to return the one I ordered in China for the baby's room. The manufacture process is probably very close to how the originals were made. The bodies are actually all nearly the same, made from a plaster cast, headless and unarmed. The heads are a bit like a Mr. Potato Head doll; by using different noses, eyebrows, and facial hair, the artisans were able to create thousands of unique faces. The factory actually creates duplicates of existing statues rather than new ones. I couldn't resist getting a little copy, but couldn't find it's life size counterpart in situ.


Like so many ancient statues, that have survived the years, they were actually coated in a layer of paint. It's hard to imagine the white marble statues of Ancient Greece coated in bright blues and yellows, but they were. Same with the Terracotta Statues, and like it is difficult not to see marble as white it is difficult for us to see these statues covered in anything but mud. So you won't find any of the duplicates painted. They actually come out of the kiln black in color, and then they add dirt to the exterior for an "authentic" look.

Patiently awaiting their turn in the kiln.

Another 1/2 hour drive and we were at the entrance....the first entrance, then a cart to the compound.

A glimpse into my future tourist self.

Pit No. 1 is perhaps the most famous, with its rows of carefully restored soldiers standing at attention. I wasn't prepared for the size of the building, at least the size of an American Football stadium. The soldiers in this pit are primarily infantrymen, and were found not in the current state but in several pieces. Shortly after the First Emperor of China died, Qin, his tomb was raided for the real weapons the fake soldiers held. A fire was set, accidentally or on purpose, and the timbers holding the rammed earth roof collapsed crushing everything below.

Still many parts to be uncovered.

Built without tourists in mind, the design lacks air conditioning, and only has ceiling fans.

Standing watch.

Medical field evacuation.How they come out of the ground.

We were assigned a local guide for the day. While he did provide some of the facts above, most of them came from The Terracotta Army by John Man. The best parts of the book were the historical stories about the Emperor. The guide, as a matter of fact, was pretty useless, and calling him a salesman may have been more accurate. After Pit 1, he wasted a half hour of our time flipping through a book about the Terracotta Warriors describing the pictures. I kept thinking "Why are we sitting here when we could just go look at the actual bloody things?" Granted, not everything in the book is visible to visitors, and the reproductions are excellent, but the whole time it felt like they were doing everything in their power to stop us from actually visiting the different pits and more time trying to get us to spend money. I would have probably gladly bought the book (which I did not) had it been at the end of the tour after getting our fill of the actual army.

Next we were brought into the gift shop so we could purchase the book and get it signed by one of the few surviving farmers who discovered the warriors. You aren't allowed to photograph or speak to the farmer, and rumor has it the only characters he can write are his name. There was one story related by Man about the farmer which I found pretty amusing, but probably not true. Former President Clinton was apparently visiting the complex, and asked if he could meet one of the farmers. The officials decided to set up a quick photo shoot. The farmer of course could not speak a lick of English so the Chinese officials hastily taught him a few phrases. Clinton would say "Hello", the farmer would ask "How are you?" Clinton would then respond with "I'm fine," and the farmer would say "Me too." The big moment arrived, and the farmer gave his line, but only it came out sounding more like "Who are you?" Clinton responded to this by saying "I'm Hillary's husband." To which the farmer said "Me too."

Unfortunately there were no dignataries on our visit, but there was a 360 degree cinemascope feature film. Made, I think, before there was such a thing as dialogue and plot development.

Finally we were freed from the sales pitch and allowed to go check things out. I rushed over to Pits 2 and 3 to look at the crossbow soldiers (a particular favorite) and the charioteers. Again, the buildings were massive, and the restoration efforts really remarkable.

"No Touching" Glass Guarding the Guard

Then it was to the museum, which was a very large monumental building with a very disturbing entrance, and a very small collection. But what it houses is a model in craftsmenship and restoration abilities. As part of the Emperor's tomb, he made sure that he would be able to get around in style in the afterlife like he used to when he was amongst the living, so he had miniature versions of his carriage and chariot guard made of bronze. One could easily have spent an hour finding every intricate detail on each of these two pieces, from the bridle and bit on the horse to the charioteer's quiver filled with exact miniature duplicates of arrows. Again, they were crushed by the roof collapsing, and beautifully restored.

This scares me.

Sorry these didn't come out less blury. Should have bought the book after all.

My thirst for seeing the army and objects finally quenched, I headed back to Xi'an a happy man. It is amazing that only part of the tomb has actually been opened, and only few number of the estimated 10,000 terracotta statues have actually been uncovered, let alone the burial chamber of the Emperor himself. It was written by later generations that the burial chamber contained miniature versions of the rivers of China made of mercury. They recently did some tests and discovered the burial mound did contain higher levels of mercury than the surrounding area. Personally, I think the most remarkable thing is the amount of patience at the dig. I would have torn into the burial chamber long ago :).

We had a couple of hours in Xi'an to ourselves before catching a night train to Beijing, so I headed out to get some supplies. It's funny how exactly similar Walmart can be in every part of the world, yet have something very distinct such as the strong odor of durian throughout the store.

The waiting room at the train station...not sure what to make of this.

One more night train.

For the second night train, we had bunks closer to one another. Except for Dan, who is in the very top bunk above a group of possibly Russian tourists who spent most of night drinking cheap wine and vodka. Dan looked a little green the next morning from the fumes and rocking. Next stop Beijing!

"from his mother's womb/ Untimely ripped"

The story of Cyrus Elijah Wolgemuth-Lamb's birth (with pictures)...

I (Jenni) started feeling contractions around 7 in the morning on Friday 20 November, 2 weeks before my due date. I had my ''show" that morning and told David on our way to work that I suspected we'd be having the baby in the next couple of days. But I didn't tell him about the contractions -- they weren't that strong and I thought they could be Braxton-Hicks.

At work I started timing the contractions and, sure enough, they were regular -- every 6 minutes. I spent the morning wrapping up a couple of things and then went to have coffee with my friend Karen. On the way, I stopped by David's office, "Don't get excited, but I think I might be in labour."

During coffee I kept looking at my phone and, not wanting to appear rude, explained to Karen I was timing contractions, which, at that point, were getting stronger. So we quickly finished our drinks and went on a short walk. I think the reality of the situation still hadn't set in because I went back to my office and helped a co-worker do some data analysis and sent out a couple of final e-mails. It was then I told David we should probably leave. Of course this was my last day of work before my scheduled maternity leave and the office had planned an afternoon tea for David and I... so I discretely let a co-worker know I was probably in labour and David and I got in the car and headed home. We were both very excited and at that point the contractions were painful, about every 3 minutes, but definitely not unbearable.

"Yea, I'm in labour! This is going to be great fun."

The cats were excited too.



We laboured at home for a little over 2 hours. David and I had taken a couple antenatal classes together and one thing I kept stressing was that I would need him to do a lot of massaging. I even asked him to do hand exercises during the pregnancy and to practice often. So of course when the time came, I couldn't stand to be touched. So David timed my contractions and kept me company and distracted. The contractions were between 2 and 3 minutes apart and getting stronger. The hot shower really helped -- until we ran out of hot water. That was when I decided it'd be best to go to the hospital.

On the way to the hospital: "Ouch, ouch, ouch..."

The Birthing Suite: Still smiling
(ha ha ha... little does she know)

And about here is where the story changes from a nice tightly woven narrative to an indescribable escalating series of events and images that led to the single greatest moment of my life. Or, for those who would rater skip the details, after 7 hours of sheer bliss, Cyrus took his first breath.

Here are the highlights:

• 4 cm dilated when arrived at hospital at 2.30
  
• 3 hours later I was 7 cm dilated and the doctor said, "Your cervix is thinning nicely. I imagine you'll be pushing by 7pm."
• Nitris oxide is my best friend, David starts rubbing my back (which now helps) and talks me through each contraction, f*#k is my favourite word
• Midwife asks if I have an "uncontrollable urge to push" to which I respond, "I can't stop my uterus from pushing if that's what you mean."
• Midwife inspects my cervix... "You are only 4 cm dilated and your cervix is still very thick. I don't know what the doctor was talking about. You still have a long way to go."
• Baby shows no signs of distress, mother plenty
• I request Pethadine
• Pethadine doesn't help
• I whimper, "Is it too late for an epidural?"
• Midwife calls doctor who arrives way too late for my liking (the anesthesiologist will do the same thing)
• Doctor confirms my cervix has actually become swollen and therefore is constricting, rather than dilating, but apparently this hasn't been communicated to the rest of my uterus that is trying to push the baby out of a 5 cm opening
• Doctor says baby is stuck and recommends an emergency Caesarian Section to which I beg, "Whatever, just get it out of me!"
• The anesthesiologist replaces the nitris oxide as my new best friend
• Doctor wouldn't let me watch the procedure, but David put the camera above the curtain and took a couple photos:

And then David and I couldn't take our eyes off this perfect little one who stopped crying as soon as he was placed on my chest.

Our little Macduff.