Blessed Assurance

The past week and a half have been a whirlwind for the Powers family. My grandpa, Ted Powers, whom I and many others considered the heart of our family, passed away on January 27. So it has taken me some time, but this blog post will be a tribute to Grandpa.

I have been fortunate to have all four of my grandparents throughout my life. That also makes the loss that much harder.. Grandpa has actually been sick my whole life, but I don’t want to dwell on that, because that’s not how I saw him.



When I was a little girl, my grandparents lived out in the country on a beautiful piece of land with a pond, hiking trails, and a garden. To a kid, it was paradise. I will always remember my grandpa as being on his tractor, or in his woodshop. Some of my best memories were out in the country. It was there that Grandpa taught me to shoot a gun (BB gun, of course), there that we “helped” him with the garden, there that he set up a tire swing for us, and there that he took us out to “Powers Canyon”. He loved being in the country, but even more, he loved sharing the country with the people he loved.

That’s the kind of guy he was. He loved his family and friends, and thrived on entertaining people. You knew when you went to his house that he was going to try to shake your hand, then pull his hand away. Or that he was going to tell a bunch of corny jokes. But you would laugh, no matter how many times you’d heard them, because of the enthusiasm with which he told the joke. You couldn’t help it.

If you dared to bring up politics or religion, you better not have anywhere to go. Grandpa  watched the news all the time, and knew exactly what he believed and why (for both politics and religion). That being said, if you presented a view that was the same as his, he would take the other side and argue it perfectly, just to be the devil’s advocate. Of course, I knew that if he started proclaiming his love for Obama, he was lying. But sometime, he could really have you convinced he believed the opposite, at least until you saw the twinkle in his eye and heard his booming laugh, as he realized he’d gotten another one.


I can see a lot of my Grandpa’s different traits in my dad and uncles, and even in us, the grandkids. The sense of humor, the stubbornness, the talkativeness, the hard-working attitude. But the one that had the biggest impact on my entire family was his heart. I don’t mean his physical heart, because it was very sick. But for what his physical heart was lacking, he made up for in spiritual heart. He really loved people. He loved my grandma so very much. They have been married almost 53 years, and seem more in love all the time, which doesn’t happen much anymore. He loved his sons, and was so proud of them. He loved everyone in the family, and seemed to have a special relationship with everyone. But he loved God first and foremost, and didn’t mind telling everyone he met. I have never known someone who talked so easily about going to heaven. He knew he was going there, and so did everyone else. That’s one of the things that has comforted us in the last week. He’s finally where he wanted to  be for so long. He’s free of pain and now has a fully-functioning body. It feels a bit selfish to want him to still be here.



Sometimes, when something like this happens, we think first of ourselves. I hadn’t gotten to see Grandpa yet since returning to the US, and Alessandro had never met him. This was of course one of my first thoughts. I thought somehow that if they had met, it would make Grandpa happy enough to pull through his current battle. But now I realize that the current battle was just one of many, and more than just being ready, he wanted to go. I will miss him so very much, but he will live on. He lived his life in a way that created a legacy; through his sons, through his interactions, and through his faith. Alessandro may not have met him, but he will hear about him. Maybe we’ll start with the story of Baby Check-up...



Ciao for now,

Kathleen

Looking Back

 
 I wrote this post as I was en route to Milan for my flight, but am just now posting it, so it's a bit outdated I suppose. Since I've been home, a lot of people have asked if I prefer Italy or America.. the answer is a combination of both. I've learned things from every place I've lived, so that goes along with what I wrote in this post.. I'll do an updated post when I have time; the blog isn't over just because I'm no longer an immigrant!

Well, the time is finally here. As I write, I’m in route to Milan to be ready for my flight tomorrow morning. We’re coming home!! And there are a lot of things that need to go well in the next 24 hours, so if you have a chance, say a little prayer for us!

Step one was the packing, and that was quite difficult. I thought it wouldn’t be too bad since I got to have one more carry-on than when I came for Ale, but it seems I’ve acquired far more than I realized. Or rather, Alessandro has acquired far more than I realized. So with some sneaky packing, including putting three sets of sheets on the bassinet (which is supposed to be included in his baggage allowance), and putting all the heavy things in my carry-on (which they don’t weigh), hopefully we’ll make it back with everything intact (we did!). Step Two is making it to Milan, which we are doing a day early, and I have no doubt that Paolo’s parents will make us get to the airport hours before the flight even thinks of taking off (they did not). So we can check that off. Step three will be surviving the flight, and maintaining Alessandro’s happiness. I really hate to be that person on the plane with the baby, I know that no one likes that person or wants to sit next to them. But given the circumstances, baby’s gotta travel. I have far more sympathy now for those poor parents I despised in the past (he was an angel).  Anyways, if we can do all that, we’re good, and customs and all shouldn’t be a problem.  (Haha, we actually missed our connecting flight because of customs issues!)

I’ve been thinking back on my time here in Italy, and I have to say that overall, Italy is a nice country. It was a stressful time of life to move and learn a new language and such, but it was an experience that I’ll always remember. It was much different than my time in France, mostly because I was a carefree student then, surrounded by international students, and this time I was really living amongst the Italians. I learned a lot in my six months here, and there a few parts of Italian culture I will really miss.

First, the most obvious if you know me, is the food. I mean, the food here is incomparable to the food in the US. I will miss the freshness and creativity of food so very much. My waistline will not miss the countless sweets, but I already do.

Second, I admire the way Italians deal with body image. Rather than being so consumed with dieting and the endless pursuit to be thin, many Italians just live a healthy lifestyle, and don’t seem to worry about what they look like, which in general, is thin. Also, when you go to the beach and whatnot, people don’t really care what you wear. It’s not so much of a contest as in the US. As in, almost all women wear bikinis, regardless of age or shape. I’ll admit that at first I was a bit shocked by this, but as I was pregnant at the time, I soon embraced the non-chalence of it. It’s nice not to feel like you’re being judged for your body.

Next, on a related note, lately I’ve come to appreciate Italy’s attitude towards breastfeeding. No one blinks here if you’re feeding your baby. And really, that’s all it is: feeding your baby. It’s not a sexual thing, it’s nothing to be embarrassed of; it’s just a meal. I’m not saying that women here just “whip it out”, but you don’t see those ridiculous nursing covers, or people with blankets over them. In my opinion, all of those things are far more obvious than just nursing with a little discretion. And I also think breastfeeding is done a lot more here. It’s gaining popularity in America too, but there’s still so many formula-fed babies. Not that formula is a wrong choice, but there are so many health benefits to both mom and baby with nursing. Also,while I’m on my soapbox, it’s not “gross”. It’s what nature intended for your ta-tas. There is literally no other purpose for them; all mammals produce milk to feed their young.  But alas, I’m returning to America, so I guess I’ll have to seek cover.

Another thing I really appreciate here is the attitude towards mealtime. As I’ve said before, Italians care a lot about food, but more than that, they use mealtimes as a time to be together. My family has also always eaten together, but I think a lot of Americans have gotten away from that tradition. And here it’s not just families; it’s roommates, friends, etc. We ate at least once a week with a couple of Paolo’s friends. It didn’t have to be a big, pretentious dinner; it was more about the company. And it was really nice.

The final thing I’ll miss is the abundance of true friends. I’ve found that in the US, it can be hard to come by true friends, the ones who will stick by you through everything, and keep up with you. From my experiences both in France and Italy, it seems like other countries really have friendship down. Paolo’s friends are really great guys. I mean, they came by to check on me, and were there all the time playing with Ale. They were great friends to me, and I only met them by association. I’m not saying there’s no friendship in America; I have some great friends. But there’s a different sense of camaraderie here that I haven’t seen much at home.

So, in all, I’ve learned a lot, and am glad for my experience here. I am simultaneously really glad to be coming home, but not because I didn’t like Italy. I just miss my family and friends, and really want everyone to meet Alessandro. I won’t lie, I also really want to be able to just get in my car and drive somewhere (I’m American, after all). So this is the end of this leg my journey through life, and now I’m flying on to the next one!

Ciao for now,

Kathleen

Christmas in Italy

A lot of people have asked me over the past couple weeks how Italians celebrate the holidays. After my second Christmas here, the answer can be summed up in one word: eating. In fact, figures show that due to the crisis in Italy, most families cut back on money spent on presents, but there was no change in food bought for the holiday season. So yeah, you think you got fat over Christmas break..

But really, it’s not that much different than in the US. I mean, each family has their own traditions here and there, so there are differences for sure, but essentially, the family gathers to talk and eat. The biggest difference I see here is that presents are not nearly such a big deal. Maybe that’s just because I’m not with small kids (besides Alessandro, who doesn’t quite get into presents yet). But in general, it seems like people don’t spend nearly as much on presents, and it’s kind of a secondary thing to everything else. In the Powers household, we have to be awake no later than 7 AM because that’s the longest little Chloe will wait to open presents. Paolo’s 6 year old twin cousins had to wait until after dinner to open anything. And here, waiting until after dinner can mean waiting hours.


So what did we eat on Christmas? Well, the menu was quite elaborate, and all cooked by Paolo’s mom and sister. Here’s the menu as I can remember it.

Antipasto- olives, Russian salad, Torta Salata, crostini
Crepes baked with pumpkin and porcini mushrooms inside
Tortellini in Brodo- basically a broth soup with tortellini
Radicchio lasagna
Roast with potatoes, zucchini, and beans
Christmas cookies
Pineapple
Pannettone with Prosecco

I missed stuffing and sweet potato casserole, but really? It was delicious; I can’t complain. Paolo’s mom’s whole family came, and met Alessandro also, and everyone was really nice. Ale basically got passed from aunt to aunt all day, so he had a good day. Usually Christmas here also involves going to Christmas mass, but since Ale was only three weeks old, I didn’t really want to get him out (we need a healthy baby to come back home).

To me, it doesn’t feel as Christmas-y here. I mean, the towns are decorated beautifully, there’s Christmas stuff everywhere in stores (not until December though!), but I miss my family and our traditions. Next year, I’m going to be in the US for Christmas; Paolo promised me that he would do a Christmas in Dixie.

New Year’s Eve here was remarkably similar to my family’s New Year’s Eve. A nice meal, followed by a TV countdown, games, and some little fireworks. Very low-key. I’m really too old now for parties and things like this, so low-key works for me. Somehow, having a baby makes me feel so old. Although last week, when Paolo and I were strolling Ale around the town, a man asked him if I was 15! 15!!! I’m not really at the point in life yet where I want to look younger and 15 offends me a bit, as most 15 year olds look ridiculous (no offense to 15 year olds, but I’ve been there). He was shocked that a 15 year old would have a baby.. yeah, I know 22 is still too young here for a baby, but it’s better than 15. Ridiculous.

Anyways, one more week til I start my journey home! This is also the week I get lots of alone time with Alessandro, as Paolo had to return to Pavia to take exams, and his parents returned to work. So far, so good, but it’s the first day. He was fussy all weekend, and refused to sleep, but last night he finally exhausted himself and slept, and has been quite pleasant since. He even smiled this morning, and I think it was for real! Hopefully the good mood will continue for his poor, tired mother’s sake. Little one is stirring, so my time is up!

Ciao for now,

Kathleen

Last Post of 2012!

Well, it turns out that having a baby is fairly time-consuming, hence the blog posts are getting fewer and farther in between. So we’ll start with a little update.

All is well here; we left Pavia the 22nd and came to Treviso to stay with Paolo’s family until we leave for the US. It’s nice to be in a house, and have people to help (which they love to do!). Alessandro has had a few milestones in the past week: his first Christmas, his first trip to the beach, and his first bath in his little tub (cord finally fell off!). He is getting much better at holding his head up, and looks to be getting close to smiling for real. His schedule is still completely erratic, but on days where he doesn’t sleep too much during the day, he does decently at night (as in, wakes up every 2-3 hours, but goes back to sleep).  The couple of days where he’s slept all day have resulted in miserable nights, but we’re working on it. He still loves to be awake, and is very alert and quite pleasant at times. He loves to be around people, and to be held; luckily, there’s no shortage of people who want to hold him and respond to his every grunt. He eats like a little pig, and is around 10 pounds now, still mostly in his cheeks!

I’m also doing much better, almost completely recovered. I over-exerted myself a couple days ago, so now I’m having to take it easy; but other than that, I feel infinitely better than a couple weeks ago. I’ve lost all of my pregnancy weight except for about 3 pounds (I don’t really know my exact pre-pregnancy weight). It does however, seem like my body has re-situated itself.. some of it is fine with me (the girls look better than ever haha!), but things like my thighs have gotta go.  Anyways, most days, I get either a nap, or Paolo takes Ale in the morning so I can sleep for a bit without worrying. I’ve started pumping a bit, and he takes a bottle perfectly, so that frees me up a bit (being an on-demand cow was taking its toll). Since we’re with Paolo’s family, I really can’t complain; my main job is taking care of Alessandro and healing, so that’s ideal.

So all is well, and it’s almost time to come home! I do have two confessions though, despite how well things are going:

1. I’m so tired. Sometimes it’s easier to pretend that everything is going perfectly, but in reality, no matter how much worse it could be, motherhood is exhausting. So far, it’s been both physically and mentally exhausting. My body is tired and still healing, and I basically never get the 8 hours of sleep my body requires to be content. Almost every time I start to take time for me to do something that I want to do (ex. writing this blog), Alessandro wakes up and requires my attention. I knew motherhood meant becoming more selfless, but really? I looked at my legs a couple days ago for the first time in forever and laughed thinking about how worried I was that my legs would be hairy when I gave birth. I had no idea. But despite my hairy legs and sleepless nights, I love that little guy more every day.

2. I’m really homesick. Don’t get me wrong, despite all my critiques of Italy, I’ve enjoyed my time here. I don’t regret coming, but I’m ready to come home. I miss my family, my friends, familiarity with places, and sweet tea. I’m ready for everyone to meet Alessandro. I also know that with returning home, I have to be separated from Paolo for a bit (6 months), but at least he’ll be in San Francisco and not Italy. It feels a lot closer. And after some time in the US, maybe he’ll understand me more.  Anyways, I’ve missed home for a while, but after Alessandro’s arrival, I’m really, really ready. 16 more days!

Well, I’m going to wrap up this post, since I never really know how much time I have. I hope everyone has a wonderful New Year’s, no matter where you are in this world!

Ciao for now,

Kathleen

Two Weeks into this Journey

I made it past the two week hurdle! Everyone says that’s the hardest part, right? In reality, it hasn’t been terrible. However, it hasn’t been what I expected, that’s for sure. Apparently, no matter how much you read or learn about babies, there’s always a surprise. So here’s my list of unexpecteds:

1. My recovery period. This was my biggest surprise. I don’t know how I thought I was going to get this abnormally large-headed baby out of me without my body noticing, but for whatever reason, I totally underestimated this part. I thought by the time I left the hospital, everything would be perfect. WRONG. When I left after 3 days, I was still moving about the speed of a turtle, and groaning with every movement I made. Let’s not even discuss sitting. It didn’t help that most of the women there at the same time as me had c-sections, and were practically running compared to me, despite being 20 years older. Yes, I was by far the youngest person there. You would not believe how old some of the women in that maternity ward were. Anyways, the recovery has not been fun. Thank God Paolo’s mom came for the week after I left the hospital to help. We wouldn’t have made it without her, seriously. By the Monday after (5 days post-partum), I was finally seeing improvement, but it was then thwarted by the visit to the embassy, which required far more walking and movement than I should’ve been doing. Once again, didn’t really plan for a recovery period. So that set me back a few days. Finally, by this past Monday, I’d made more progress, and am able to move around a bit without wanting to die.

2. There is so much poop. I mean, I knew babies pooped a lot, but really? He eats, and then poops 10 minutes later. And he eats a lot. We had about 100 disposable diapers, which he used in less than 10 days, then we switched to cloth diapers. They aren’t quite as convenient, but at that rate, it’s just throwing money away. Especially when he pees/poops as we’re changing the diaper.

3. The erratic sleep schedule. I mean, of course I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping a ton, but I thought newborns slept 16-18 hours a day. Who are these babies that make the average? Not mine, that’s for sure. He sleeps maybe 12 hours, on a good day. And it’s incredibly inconsistent. As in, he sleeps all day and none at night, or vice versa. And he’s not much of a napper. Unless I’m holding him. If he’s being held, he’ll sleep like an angel. At night also, which can be quite tempting when you’re sleep deprived. I let him sleep next to me the first week, but the past few days, he’s been sleeping in his bed.. at least until I inevitably fall asleep while feeding him. He’s sneaky!

4. The abundance of feedings. I read it would be about 8 times a day. Alessandro eats about 12 times a day. At least. He doesn’t let more than 2 hours pass without eating, sometime less. That’s a lot of time spent feeding a baby.  I’m starting to feel like a cow.

5. Being over-protective. I told myself I wouldn’t be that parent, but I am. I don’t want dirty people touching my baby, or kissing him. There’s not a lot I can say or do about it without being rude, but I cringe every time it happens. I mean, I don’t mind clean people touching him, but the neighbor who smokes like a chimney and has long, nasty fingernails? There’s no polite way to tell someone to stand 10 feet away at all times..

6. How many noises babies make. Alessandro is constantly making noise. Cooing, grunting, crying, snoring, etc. The first couple days, we rushed to his side every time we heard anything from him. But we quickly figured out the code to his noises, so now I know lots of grunts mean to get the diaper changing stuff ready, or that coos mean to leave him alone, he’s finally happy!

7. The preparation to go ANYWHERE. To go anywhere, I have to: 1. Make sure the diaper bag is properly packed. 2. Make sure Ale is freshly changed and fed. 3. Put on his snowsuit. 4. Put him in the carseat/stroller. And that’s just for him.

8. Losing pregnancy weight is not nearly as bad as everyone says. That is, if you didn’t go all Jessica Simpson and gain 65 pounds. I haven’t actually weighed myself since giving birth, but it has really amazed me how much my body has changed in the last two weeks. Immediately after giving birth, there was all this ever-so-attractive skin just hanging on my stomach. A week later, that was cut in half. This week, it’s just a little pooch. That’s not to say that I’m ready for bikini season, but it sure is nice to look in the mirror and not see this huge person anymore.

9. Motherhood is messy. Poop, pee, spit-up, the list goes on. However, childbirth was good preparation for this. After that experience, not much grosses me out anymore.  But I never thought I would get poop on my fingers during a change and then forget to wash it off after.

10. How quickly I turned into “THAT mom”. You know, the one who always posts pictures of her kids on facebook, or can’t talk about anything else. Granted, it’s all new now, so I’m going to do my best to not turn into a soccer mom. Seriously though, my baby is super cute, so everyone wants to see him, right? 

Anyways, it has definitely been a time of learning for us. We’re adjusting though, and it’s so much fun to get to know Ale, even when he doesn’t let me sleep. Which for the record, last night he slept 5 hours in a row; I was so happy I could’ve cried! He’s growing so much already; it’s crazy! He’s still got the newborn look, but he somehow looks like he understands things sometimes, and I can tell the newborn stage will be gone soon. Which is why I finally took his newborn pictures today. I had to do them myself since that is apparently not really done here, so that’s why I waited so long. Like I said, the recovery was more than I was expecting, and I wasn’t really up to photos the first week like I’d planned on. So we had a little shoot this afternoon, and let me just tell you, newborns are not easy clients. First of all, I couldn’t get him to go into that deep, coma-like sleep. Then he peed as soon as I took his diaper off. And then he realized he was naked and cold and screamed. So it was a short shoot. But I got a couple decent ones! I haven’t edited much yet, but here’s the best so far..

 

 Ciao for now,

Kathleen

The Birth of Alessandro

As you probably know or realized by the length between posts, Alessandro is here!! He was born December 5 at 7:23 AM, and is very happy and healthy!  After just 8 days, the memory of all that happened that day is already starting to fade, so I wanted to take the opportunity to tell the eventful story of his birth.  Just as a warning, childbirth is a messy thing; so if you don’t want details, don’t read!

It started the morning of December 4, at my daily doctor’s appointment. As you may have read in the last post, my fluid levels were dropping, and that day they had dropped to just 30 ml, so they told me I had to be induced. Like that day. I panicked a bit at first, but then persuaded them to let me go home, shower, eat, and finish packing last minute things. So fast forward to that afternoon. Around 4, they inserted my IV thing into my arm, which at the time, seemed like pain. I had no idea. At 5:30 they induced me via swab of prostaglandin on my cervix. They seemed skeptical that it would even work, and told me it would take at least 24 hours. I had to spend that night in the hospital, in the maternity ward, which is separate from the labor and delivery area. Paolo was not allowed to stay, as fathers can only come between 11 AM and 9 PM here. Also, here there are two people in each room. My roommate happened to be a 36 week pregnant woman who was hospitalized for severe vomiting after eating too much McDonald’s.  So that was pleasant.

Anyways, around 10 pm, I started having contractions. They monitored me for a while and said everything was fine. I was only dilated 1 cm. 30 minutes later, I was having intense contractions, so I called them back. They monitored me again for longer, and still nothing. This went on and on until I was finally 2 cm, then 3. Then finally around 1:00 AM, my water broke. I thought for sure then they would move me to the labor room, and give me the dang epidural. Nope. Also, though I was begging, they wouldn’t let me call Paolo to come there. So I labored alone, until about 3:30 when they finally let me call him. I was finally dilated to the magical 4 cm. It took a while from then to actually admit me to the labor area (which I had to walk to btw, and it wasn’t that close). My contractions were one after the other and incredibly intense. Apparently, the prostaglandin had overreacted on me, and I had more contractions than a normal person would. Lovely. By the time Paolo got there, I literally could not see straight and was about to pass out. But as I’m learning more and more each day, the human body is capable of amazing things.

So I finally moved to the labor room, and when I got there I was experiencing the overwhelming urge to push, which I had been strictly instructed not to do. It was horrible. I can’t even explain what it feels like to have your body adamantly tell you what to do and have to refuse it. And at that point, the feeling of any slight bit of caring what anyone thought of me left, and things got messy. I won’t go into detail, but I did not have the glamourous birth experience some people seem to have where my makeup was intact and my hair fluffy. I was gross. Sweat was the least of my problems. Anyways, the doctor came in, and I begged for epidural. So he checked me and told me that I was fully dilated and if I needed to push, go for it. It was unbelievable! I went from 4 cm to 10 in no time at all. He said at that point it was stupid to take an epidural because it would slow things down and make pushing harder. So yes, I gave birth au natural. At that point, I didn’t care. Also, if anyone was wondering, for future reference, he told me that laboring on your back is the most painful way to do it. Sorry if it’s TMI, but if I can help someone else, getting on all fours on your bed is the way to go. Seriously, try it. Once he told me I could push, I was so relieved. That meant it was almost over, and I didn’t care about epidural. I didn’t think anything could be worse than what I already experienced. And in my case, I was right.

So fast-forward, I pushed for around 45 minutes, partly in the labor room, partly in the delivery room (a room with a big, scary chair in the middle and lots of operating equipment everywhere). Just when I thought I couldn’t do any more, I felt this burst of pain, and simultaneously, energy, and Alessandro made his way into the world. It was amazing, really. I am in total amazement and awe over how perfectly the human body was created and how everything comes together perfectly in the childbirth process. To be honest, crowning was not the worst part of the pain; to me it meant relief and a baby was here.

The moment he came out was surreal to me; I was utterly exhausted, but when they placed him in my arms, I became so aware of this tiny little stranger that suddenly felt so familiar. Even now, 8 days later, I am still in awe of him. Sometimes I can’t help just staring at him, wondering at the perfection of God’s creation.


Anyways, everything after that was downhill, the placenta came out, blah blah, his head was huge, so I required some stitches, which are now the bane of my existence. The first thing the doctor said when he came out was that his head was huge. Duh, I just pushed him out of me, I know better than anyone. He was a perfect 7 lbs, 14 oz, 19.3 cm, at 7:23 AM.

When he was cleaned and dressed, and I was able to leave the delivery room, the 3 of us got to spend some time together, which was really sweet. Paolo held his baby for the first time, which was also the first time he held a baby. Alessandro took to nursing immediately, making my life immensely easier. He was so alert and awake the first day, not at all what I was expecting. After everything, I can say that it was all worth it, we are now the proud parents of a beautiful baby boy, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Ciao for now,

Kathleen

When No News Ceases to be Good News

Don’t get excited; I’m still pregnant. With no end in sight, it seems. Apparently my womb is just so darn hospitable that Alessandro wants to spend a 10th month in there. I have tried evicting him, but he’s not into it. I mean, I actually give him pep talks on the daily about how much more room he would have to move, and things like this. And I get nothing. Bleh.

Now that I’m actually really over my due date, I feel I have the right to complain. If I saw progress occurring, maybe I would feel better, but literally nothing has changed. I haven’t had strong contractions in a couple weeks, I feel basically the same as I did two weeks ago. Except maybe more tired now. I went to the doctor Friday for a visit, and of course, they just did fetal monitoring. They’re really into that here. In fact, until today, it’s the only thing they’ve done to me since 35 weeks. Lovely. I know the baby’s heart is beating, I can feel him move. I want to know if any progress is being made. But I’m asking too much it seems.

Anyways, today I finally got more monitoring, but also an ultrasound. My amniotic fluid levels are getting low, so they’re finally putting some urgency on the issue at hand. I really was starting to think they would just let me be pregnant forever here. But now, I have to go back again tomorrow for more of the same, plus a membrane sweep. I’m hoping against all hope that kick-starts things, because I really don’t want to be induced. I can’t explain why; I just feel like a scheduled delivery is so unnatural for a process that’s supposed to be natural. I know it may have to happen; in fact they told me that next Sunday was the absolute latest I could wait. I’m going to ask tomorrow if they can move that to Friday, simply because we have an appointment at the US embassy on the following Wednesday which we really need to make in order to get Alessandro’s US citizenship, plus all the other paperwork that needs to be done. Dual citizenship ain’t easy.

Sorry to not really have anything more interesting to talk about, but this is kind of dominating my thoughts right now, and since people were asking, it seemed like an update was in order. So, how am I doing? I’m tired, uncomfortable, slightly in pain, and terribly impatient; but I’m fine. And so is Baby. He’s just a little too comfortable. 

So here’s hoping that for real my next post is on the other side of things. If you have time, say a little prayer that Alessandro gets a move on; Momma’s over this.

Ciao for now,

Kathleen