The story of my pregnancy

In week 26 of pregnancy I had some bleeding, it was terrifying. My best friend rushed me to emergency where the staff took incredible care of me. During the series of tests they ran to determine what was happening I received confirmation that I was indeed carrying a boy (something I had been sure of since the moment of conception) I was excited to see my baby boy on the ultrasound but the anxiety of not knowing what was happening was threatening to overwhelm me.

The baby was breached but that wasn’t uncommon for this stage of pregnancy. They printed me off a picture that was time stamped 11:11. In that moment I found my breath, everything was going to be okay; 11:11 is a prompt I (along with countless others) have received since childhood; a sign from angels, the universe, God, whatever you want to call it; a reminder to have faith.  Releasing me after 48 hours of observation they ruled out everything “bad” it could possibly be and with no eminent threat to baby or myself they sent me on my way with instructions to come back immediately if the bleeding returned.

At 29 weeks while in the valley house sitting the bleeding resumed, my mother rushed me to the local hospital where they too monitored the baby and reassured me all was ok and upon release a few hours later told me if early labour occurred they would medivac me to my hospital which is known throughout North America for its neonatal specialists. I had an appointment with my OBGYN two days later, he was still not overly concerned, everything was still intact for me and the baby was doing beautifully, bleeding was going to be part of my pregnancy and unless there was pain involved not to worry.

Despite the prompts from source and reassurance from doctor’s fear continued to veer its ugly head throughout the week. Each time it surfaced I turned inwards, the baby reassured me by giving me kicks every time I asked for confirmation he was ok. I felt the bond between us growing and marveled at the personality that was already making itself known from my womb, I was blown away by how much love I was already feeling for this little being.

Just shy of week 30 I began experiencing what I was told by family were Braxton hicks, a form of early contractions that prepare the uterus for birth. One night I lay in bed trying to sleep but each time I dozed I was awoken they seemed to be happening every half hour, being told they could last throughout the entire pregnancy I wondered how women coped. My mother suggested Tylenol but I had never been one for medication so opted to just breathe it out. On this particular night I also began bleeding again, after twelve hours and no end to the discomfort of Braxton hicks I decided another trip to the hospital was needed…

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smile and the world smiles with you...

Everyone wants to know more about Indian culture and the biggest differences I’ve noticed. One of the most confusing things I witnessed was the lack of smiling faces. Indian people come across as quite stern, especially the women. One of my first experiences in India was at an ashram, I was convinced the women who worked there disliked me based on what I felt were disapproving looks. What I discovered is smiling in public or around strangers is not part of their nature, when you do see any girl smile their hand immediately covers their mouths and laughter is often stifled before it leaves their lips.

The first wedding I attended I watched as the bride and groom had their photos taken, there was no smiling in fact it looked somber. A few family members offered a closed mouth grin but nothing like we are used in the west. My partner explained if you do smile in the presence of others the mouth should always remained closed. In fact when we first began spending time together we’d be driving through the streets on his motorcycle and I’d be smiling at everyone and everything because I was having so much fun. One day he sat me down and said “please don’t take this in wrong way but you need to stop smiling with such a big smile.” “What?” I stammered having always been complimented on my smile I wasn’t sure how to react. He explained ”when we are alone it is fine, I love your smile and want to see it always but out on the street it means something different and you don’t hear the comments because you are still learning Hindi but I have to stop myself per day from getting off my bike and beating people.”

I understood, looking around at locals and other western women who had adopted this culture as their own they were all much more reserved.  One day my fourteen year old niece and I were giggling when she shared with me that her mother told her that “she needed to stop laughing so much”. I couldn’t imagine these words ever being muttered in the west but understood her mother was enticing her to begin behaving like a grown up.

That being said I want you to know India is far from stern, my family’s home is filled with laughter and smiles daily but the minute we go outside a different face is shown, the biggest reason according to the women is to avoid unwanted attention. My husband and I find balance always breaking the photo rule; his friends teasingly say it’s our “Canadian smile.” Once in awhile we’ll also jokingly strike our official “Indian face” which always brings about big laughs. It’s not something I can change about the culture it's something I have to respect. I am far more conscious of when and where it’s appropriate but I often remind myself that this is afterall the land that brought us Laughing Yoga…

My goal is to make a career out of writing, if you would like to support my efforts you can do so by clicking below and making a donation, thank you for your continued support