Can I be included in Mother's Day?

It's one of the view thoughts that's made me smile today. This is definitely one of the worst days I've had in recent memory. I had a proposal to give to my boss to take to the big weekly meeting here at work, I've got the pedal a bit more to the metal heading to work to give it in on time and wouldn't you know it... my car dies right at the intersection of Westminster and Sandringham in Eastwood Park. Just some belt noises, complete shut off and a puff of smoke that disappated by the time I opened the bonnet.

Luckily two passing gentlemen pushed the car onto the sidewalk and I proceeded to leave it there and head to work, having been offered a ride by one of the guy's and his girlfriend. So hand in proposal, head into department meeting. Mind you all I had this morning was a cup of tea because I'd said to myself, "Okay, I'll just grab breakfast at the canteen after I hand in the proposal." Right. Fast forward to 12:30, I still haven't eaten and I'm meeting a wrecker service to get my car off to a garage.

Alot else has gone wrong but I'm near to tears right now as it is and I can't bear to rehash everything else. And the only thing that has made me smile today was looking at MSN.com after signing out of Hotmail and seeing that Mother's Day is coming up. Yes, that brings sadness too... I don't have my Moms anymore. But maybe I'll get a Mother's Day present this year. That would be nice. But even if I don't, I'll still be able to rub my belly and smile.

Love it!! DWL


Tanning the belly with no shame

So I took my pregnant self to Hellshire Beach last Thursday. A co-worker and I decided to beat the Easter weekend rush and catch some rays and eat some Escoveitch fish before the hordes descended on Easter Friday. Since I don't own (and don't intend to buy) a materntiy bathing suit, I marshalled my courage, slipped into my black boy-short bikini, grabbed my towel and headed out the house.

The whole experience was funny and surreal to the extreme. There I am, spindly arms, spindly legs and a round mass of belly in front of me that no one apparently could mistake for fat. One guy even tried to hit on me in the water! "Baby mother," he said, "You know we man always give up seat to unuh in the bus." I was like, "Uh... okay." I honestly can't remember the last time I took a bus. So I just said thank you and then moved swiftly to another area in the water. At one point I felt really self conscious though because so many people were staring at me (as if I didn't invite that upon myself LOL) but my co-worker reassured me. "Don't worry Kim," she said, "This is Jamaica. Everyone thinks pregnant women are cute..." then she added something to the effect that it was so obvious that I was pregnant because I'm so skinny there couldn't be any other explantion.

I'm glad I went though. The day was nice, the sun not too hot and the fish and festival was deeeelicious. Definitely something that I'm going to try and do more often as this pregnancy progresses.

We're having a girl!

According to my doctor, she's nice and healthy, and actually my doctor was really proud of me because I was asking all sorts of questions like: So there's no extra fluid behind the neck? The intestines are all inside? The vertebrae in the spine and the ribs all look okay? Thigh bone is a good size? He actually turned back on the ultrasound machine and went over everything again, explaining as he went. "Usually I just take the measurements I need and that's it because most people either don't have a clue or don't care," he said. So he explained the angle from which all the information is collected, like that the view of the intestines and the bladder is taken from the head down. He also explained why some couples who are told they are having a girl end up with a boy. Apparently lots of doctors/midwives don't see a penis and declare the baby a girl, but according to my doctor it's the absence of a penis and the presence of a vulva that means you've got a girl.

New ultrasound pictures as soon as I get my hands on a digital camera. I forgot mine in the States and I'm waiting on J to Mailpac them to me...

Perk you up ;)

Sometimes I randomly click the 'Next Blog' link at the top of all Blogger pages. Here's a joke that I found at Jokes (mfunny.blogspot.com)

Three Italian nuns die and go to heaven.

At the Pearly Gates, they are met by St. Peter. He says, "Sisters, you all led such wonderful lives that I'm granting you six months to go back to earth and be anyone you want to be."

The first nun says, "I want to be Sophia Loren;" and *poof* she's gone.

The second says, "I want to be Madonna;" and *poof* she's gone.

The third says, "I want to be Sara Pipalini."St. Peter looks perplexed.

"Who?" he says."Sara Pipalini;" replies the nun. St. Peter shakes his head and says; "I'm sorry, but that name just doesn't ring a bell." The nun then takes a newspaper out of her habit and hands it to St. Peter.

He reads the paper and starts laughing. He hands it back to her and says...."No sister, the paper says it was the 'Sahara Pipeline' that was laid by 1,400 men in 6 months."

Back with all the memories

Memories are like a double-edged sword. I'm back here on the rock with all the memories of my stay with J, being swamped with memories of my Moms. I can't believe it's been three years already since she's been gone. Wednesday was the third anniversary of her death and yesterday would've been her 52nd birthday. Sadly, and I feel it's gotten to the point where a memorian was put in the paper just because it was a duty to be done. Maybe I'm just clinging too tightly to my memories, but I think my Moms deserved better, or maybe not better, but at least more thought? But that's life and I wasn't here - I couldn't bear to be here, actually no April 5 has caught me on this island since 2003 - and so, I suppose I forfeited my input. Maybe I'm just jealous that others have moved on with their lives so completely, while I'm here struggling with feelings of loss and a little bitterness that Moms never saw me graduate, get married or land my first job and will never see the grandchild I'm carrying.