anniversary.


do you know what today is?

I interrupt the recent hernia-related updates to inform that today is my anniversary. My post-surgery sweetie is doing all right and healing nicely. I checked in on him while I was at work today (I’ve taken a short proofing gig, filling in for a friend who is on a pregnancy-related leave of absence), and he told me that he hadΒ walked to the store to get me a little something for the occasion.

He admitted that it’d taken him a while, but he had a checkup this morning and after the doctor’s appointment/approval, he felt well enough to move around some more.

When I got home, I found that he’d bought me flowers, cupcakes and a card.Β I am touched by the gesture; I wasn’t expecting anything at all, really, because I figured he wasn’t up for much on account of healing. It was a lovely surprise.

Mi amor. He can be so sweet, sometimes. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been interesting since day one…

I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else. Not even Channing Tatum.

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This was taken at a friend’s house, just a few short weeks after we met. I was smitten then…today, I love him mega-bunches. πŸ˜€

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OT: one unhappy camper.

I went to visit the boy after surgery #2 this afternoon, and boy, what a difference from yesterday.

I picked the evening shift, as his mother had made him some soup and other comfort-food yummies. Upon delivering them, I was greeted by a grumpy, slightly bleary-eyed version of my beloved. I soon learned that while the second surgery was also a success, the pain of the first was starting to set in, coupled with the fresh discomfort of the second.

He was completely on edge today. And I tried not to let his surliness get to me, but when he’s miserable, he can be a downright mean and ornery SOB. I had to take a moment at one point to have a little cry in the bathroom (again, hormones. The un-pregnant me would have sucked my teeth and cussed him out, surgery or no).

The patient rooms bunk in twos, and he’d gotten a new roommate – a brown, Muslim guy from Trinidad whose name escapes me at the moment (meh. For story’s sake, I’ll call him Jamal). He was talkative and lively, in the way I find most Trinis to be, and I was thankful for his presence. Jamal had apparently come in the night before, and the boy had told him all about me and my Bajan background. Having him there today forced the boy to be social, and we spent the rest of the evening exchanging funny stories and bonding over our West Indian commonalities.

Still, I was relieved when 9 o’clock rolled around and visiting hours were over. It’s been an emotional week, and even though he’s in pain, I know the boy will be okay. He walked me to my car, and sent me off with a kiss and an apology for being so surly. He’s got one more full day in the hospital, and then he can come home to convalesce.

Thank God. He’ll be a LOT happier there. And then his mother can dote on him for a bit. I’m not cut out for this.

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Srsly? The boy makes Grumpy Cat look positively sunny.

OT: one of two.

The boy survived the first surgery.

I went to see him today, and yesterday (immediately post-op). I was so happy to see him looking healthy and smiling, that I cried with relief (which surprised the hell outta me. I’m not typically that weepy. Must be the hormones).

Aside from a little bit of discomfort, he said he felt all right, and when I went to visit him today, he seemed to be doing even better. I had picked up his mother so she could visit, and then his sister drove in from Milton to meet us there. The four of us sat out under one of the gazebos on the grounds and chatted. It was such a beautiful day, and I can’t say enough how gorgeous the facility is. I joked and told him it was more like we were visiting a celebrity rehab joint. There were other families visiting patients, sitting on benches in the sun, or walking along the cobblestone pathways. A few of them were playing on the mini golf course, while others took to the shade. Everyone seemed so relaxed. It was rather strange.

He’d shown me his scar yesterday, and said that due to painkillers he didn’t actually hurt, but the way the doctors had closed up the incision, things felt really tight in the groin area. But he was talking, laughing and walking (albeit slowly), so I wasn’t terribly worried.

Just before the two-hour visiting window was up, the boy’s sister asked to snap a shot of us. Turned out pretty nicely, I gotta say.

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Look at him. The picture of health. I’m almost inclined to think he’s faking it! πŸ˜€

Surgery #2 is tomorrow, and then he’ll be discharged on Saturday. I’m just so happy this hernia business is about to be all over, because it’s really taken a toll on him, and put a damper on his/our summer. He’s been on modified duties at work, and because of major discomfort, he can hardly walk or sit for any great length of time. We’ve spent most of the season with him flat on his back or reclined in a chair in his backyard. It doesn’t sound like such a bad deal, but Toronto truly comes alive in summer. We’ve missed out on so many things, and while he hasn’t said, I know it’s been bumming him out.

Oh, well. At least he’s getting the treatment he needs. It’s costing a bit because we’ve gone private, but if he waited for the public health system, he wouldn’t have been able to get an operation until November.

And that just wouldn’t do.

Here’s hoping that tomorrow is just as successful.

Muitos beijos, amor!

TMI tuesdays: process of elimination.

One of the things that no one tells you about pregnancy is that you’re either constantly leaking fluid, or you’re bunged up.

Those who are/have been pregnant know what kinds of leaking can happen, but this is completely new and unexpected to me. Generally a sneeze/cough/laugh (or even trying to pass gas, for heaven’s sake – more on that in a second) elicits a bit o’pee. The pressure on the bladder from a growing bean is the reason, so I’m told.

Another set of organs affected by this pressure are the intestines. As the uterus expands, it squeezes and leans against the intestines, preventing the effective passage of food/waste through the body and out. Hence, constipation. I’ve tried everything from flax (as suggested by my friend Shellene), to dried fruits (which make me gassy – which in turn, makes me pee. Gah!) and water, water, water… Which makes me – oh, you get the idea.

I have suffered from IBS/Gastroparesis for a number of years, so I’m not squeamish about my BMs. However, it always surprises me just how much I miss them when they’re gone. A friend of mine seriously breaks out when she can’t go, so I’m thankful being constipated just makes me uncomfortable, as opposed to acneic.

Like I don’t have enough to deal with right now.

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(with apologies to Angel’s cupcakes in New Zealand.)

OT: under the knife.

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These oughta do the trick.

The boy was admitted into hospital today.

His first hernia surgery isn’t until tomorrow morning, but all of the pre-requisite sign-in stuff was today. It was a long process and he’s not the most patient man in the world, so he was a little edgy. I also know it’s because he was nervous. He’s never had surgery before, and he’ll be at the facility for a week (we opted to go private to get a faster appointment, as opposed to waiting until November thru public health). After he was shown his room and unpacked his stuff, we took a walk around.

It’s completely beautiful, like a spa for men. Beautiful grounds with fruit trees, benches, a mini-putting green…you would never believe that just a kilometre out there’s a busy road and non-stop traffic. There are two shifts of visiting hours: 4-6 and 7-9PM, and since I was with him during the second shift, we did a little jailbreak and headed out to McDonald’s to grab a bite and enjoy our time together until lockdown.

He goes for surgery #1 tomorrow morning at eight.Β He gave me a Big Mac-flavoured kiss goodbye as I promised to come see him in the afternoon.

He’ll be all right.

He has to be.

weekend wrap-up: mixed nuts.

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My clothes can’t keep a secret.

family…
We told the boy’s family yesterday. He’s going for hernia surgery on Monday, so he thought it’d be a good idea to get the fam together and announce the news of the pregnancy and see everyone before he went under the knife. Again, my choice of loose attire gave me away – who knew I was such a fangirl for tight clothing ? – his niece Christina sensed that I was about to drop the baby bomb after spying my blue dress. The news went over well, anyway. His mother congratulated us, claimed she already knew, and then was upset because we hadn’t told her before…her baby boy is having a baby. She was hurt. So emotional, that one. Sweet lady, though.

After the family reveal, I headed to Brampton to see my dear friend Radmila and her husband. They’re like family to me, and they were having their annual summer shindig on the same night as the boy’s family do. I’d originally said I wasn’t going to make it, but seeing that my afternoon ended early, and I had news to share, I hopped in the car and headed north.

As I pulled up, I could hear the music blaring. I opened the door unannounced and made my way to the kitchen, where I knew all of the wives and womenfolk would be congregated. Radmila and her friend Karla spotted me at the same time. Karla’s mouth dropped open, and Radmila said, “so, do you have something to tell us?” I spent the night sharing the news with various guests I haven’t seen in a while. I was truly warmed by all of the congratulations. Continue reading

run tell dat.

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This one tells that one, and that one’s gonna tell that one, and so on, and so on, and so on…

I’ve been meaning to expand on the events of a few weekends past, and how quickly the news of my pregnancyΒ spread.

The buzz started at Saturday’s funeral, after I showed up in what I thought was perfectly appropriate funeral garb – black pants and a slightly sheer, loose-fitting blouse. Little did I know that the latter garment would be my undoing. Β Many of the funeral-goers went to dinner at my aunt Thelma’s (Heather’s mom) for post-service dinner. As per usual, the young people found themselves in one section of the house (the front room overlooking the veranda), while the older generations gathered in the back of the house near the kitchen.

As I settled in to eat, I was approached by my cousin Chris’s wife Darina – a slender woman with a build similar to mine. We’re not close, but I’ve always liked her. I think there may have been some small talk before we addressed the elephant in the room. I don’t even recall if she asked outright, or just hinted at the possibility, but I did admit that I was pregnant.

“I knew it!” she said with a smile. “I Β saw you at the funeral, and… ” Continue reading