Moments of Kairos for a New Mother: Babymoon?

I'm sitting here in my dry kitchen looking at the weather report which is calling for rain for the next four days. Many would think that this should be a depressing prospect. However, after the last two weeks my husband Luke and I spent in Costa Rica on what was supposed to be a relaxing babymoon, oddly enough (some would even consider this an oxymoron) I am only too grateful and happy to be right here in the comfort of my own warm home in this beautiful province referred to as "BC the best place on earth."

To be fair Luke and I had some really enjoyable moments, we have a few interesting stories, and the biodiversity was incredible. In its own way I'm sure it's as beautiful as BC is. However, the interaction that Luke and I had with this beauty was strictly limited as it rained for nearly three quarters of the time we were there; the pattern was along the lines of three days of rain, one sunny day only to be followed by another three days of rain. And when I say rain, I don't mean the consistency of Lower Mainland BC rain, I mean torrential downpour for a good half hour with perhaps a ten minute break where I silently begged it would clear up - only to be followed by another torrential downpour that could be heard fast approaching our location. Some may say that I shouldn't complain and that at least it was warm. This is true. It was probably the first time I've ever been able to wear a sundress or shorts and a tank-top in the rain and still able to remain fairly comfortable - even if I was thoroughly drenched.

Luke playing with baby Howler monkeys

A newborn baby Howler on its mother

It was the start of the second week of rain that Luke and I decided if we were going to see or enjoy anything we'd just have to take the rain with it. So, we rode our bikes for twenty minutes and arrived at a wildlife refuge soaking wet, but ready for an experience. This turned out to be the best decision we made and the most enjoyable day in the whole two weeks we were there. Without this experience we would not have witnessed the biodiversity that Costa Rica has to offer. Luke was able to play with baby Howler monkeys and a Spider monkey, I fed a toucan, we saw baby sloths, a variety of viper snakes and spiders, saw a female Red-eyed tree frog carting her sleeping mate around on her back, some hawks, a Spectacled owl, a brilliant green parakeet, approximately ten foot boa constrictors (one that was caught eating a pet cat and the other a pet dog), deer, Ocelots (small dog sized spotted cats), and an agouti. It was probably this one outing that gave our babymoon the flavour of Costa Rica that we were hoping for.

The intricacy of the web was impressive.
It looks like a snowflake: so pretty and delicate,
not something I ever thought I'd say about a web.

Looking back Luke and I have asked ourselves where did we go wrong? Were we expecting too much? Honestly, I don't think we were. All we wanted was to spend two weeks in the sun lounging on the beach, swimming in the surf, a bit of surfing for Luke, swimming in calm pools for me and doing a bit of snorkelling around the reef. For the three days of sun we managed to get we did lounge on the beach. We even attempted on the not so rainy days to go out and enjoy the beach, it was warmer in the water than it was out of it anyways. However, the time of year was all wrong for snorkelling. Not only was the surf too strong and rough, but the water was too murky to see much of anything. Luke tried surfing and was glad to say he at least tried it, but mostly he enjoyed simply going out swimming and playing in the surf. As for pregnant me, I quickly found out that beaching it wasn't as comfortable as I had imagined. First, I tried to play out in the surf but it just ended up either crashing into my belly or into my back and doubling me over - overall it was painful. I tried ducking under the waves. That didn't work either because being pregnant my lung capacity has been reduced; I barely managed to stay under while one wave passed over, only to get up and gasp a breath of air before the next wave was upon me. I gave it my best, but the surf wasn't for me. In the beginning that was fine with me as all I really wanted to do was doze in the warmth of the sun. I quickly found out that it's more difficult for a pregnant lady to suntan than imagined. First, lying on my back isn't recommended, nor is it comfortable, because the uterus presses down on the vena-cava vein. Lying on my side in the sand wasn't comfortable either (perhaps it would've been if I had a few more towels to prop up the weight of both my belly and newly endowed breasts). Merely sitting for hours on end isn't ideal either. I finally dug a hole in the sand for my belly to comfortably fit in and managed to somewhat get the bit of relaxation I had been seeking.

A couple other highlights while we were there included seeing a bright blue butterfly flit through the yard nearly everyday, a moth with a nearly seven inch wingspan that hung out on a rafter in our lodging for three days,

watching bats swoop down and eat bananas in feeders left out for them, a couple different hummingbirds zip and hover through the trees and feed on different flowers in the yard, and witnessing two different kinds of ant marches. The first ant march are what we were told are cleaner ants. Their march started beyond the fence, ten feet to the deck, another eight feet across the deck, down the twenty foot hallway, veering off to the left another eight to ten feet across the bathroom floor, out a gap in the wall and into the wilderness beyond. The march lasted for nearly five to six hours. The second march was one Luke and I discovered while out riding our rickety rented bikes (apparently the fact that ours never busted apart or had the chains fall off within the first couple days meant that we actually had quality bikes; it's all in perspective I suppose) in search of a calm spot of beach for me to relax and swim in. We rode into a section of beach shaded by trees and I happened to look down and see chunks of leaves being marched in a line. We had come upon a colony of Leaf-cutting ants. It was the neatest thing. There was essentially two lines occurring: one coming down from way up the top of the tree carrying their chunks of leaves down into their colony a good ten feet away from the base of the tree, and then another line of ants coming up from their colony and on their way back to collect more chunks of leaves. It was simply fascinating. Talking to my brother afterwards I became even more impressed when he told me about a documentary explaining just how complex a system these ants actually create communicating solely on their sense of smell. (The following is a link to a documentary on these incredible little creatures).

http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=iYbG48BsGhw

These were the good moments. These are the stories I will tell in an attempt to salvage the memory of our vacation. Why did we find it so disheartening then? Actually if it had been a sunny vacation our experience would've had a completely different feel to it. The fact is that it rained nearly the entire time. This in itself wouldn't have been so bad, but rather than stay in a fancy hotel we stayed at a hostel. As a simple comparison staying at this hostel was like camping. The accommodations were primitive - much like cabins at summer camps. True we didn't have to go outside to the outhouse but the hallway leading to the bathroom was an unpaved dirt path. The kitchen and eating area was an open covered deck concept. The stove was a camp stove. There was a sink with running water. The water wasn't heated and for the most part dishes were washed in cold water with some soap - although occasionally Luke and I boiled water to wash our dishes. In addition, as the hostel is attempting to be as eco friendly as possible, there was a rain barrel that captured the water and then was gravity fed. Please don't think that I'm complaining because I'm not and the accommodation was pretty much what I expected it to be. But, I also expected it to be sunny and it wasn't. Camping is fun and can be done for an extended period of time in good weather, but when it rains it gets old fast.

The rain combined with the humidity in the atmosphere and the dampness of the ground meant that everything that was wet stayed wet and anything else became damp. Also the air in our room didn't circulate very well so the damp air became stale. A week into our stay Luke and I bought a fan in attempt to move the air around a little in our room and give our clothes and towels a chance to moderately dry out. However, our attempts were too late and it quickly became apparent that our room had the perfect conditions to breed mold. If we left our fan off for the day, in order to comply with the eco-friendly atmosphere, our room was thick with the stench of must and mildew when we went to bed. The straps on both Luke and my backpacks started going moldy, our clothes stunk, the handles on my carry-on-suitcase, computer case, and makeup case all started growing mold, Luke's shaving case was completely covered, the brim on his hat and his shoes underneath our bed were infested, and his leather belt was completely covered in thick murky green fuzzy fungi. However, it didn't stop with our room. Out in the kitchen I noticed that combined with the cutlery kept all together in a rubber container there were a few wooden handled steak knives that had started to sprout its own growth as well.

Further more adding to the rain, being permanently wet or damp and surrounded by mold both Luke and I came down with the dreaded Traveler's Diarrhea. The first night I puked about three different times in addition to my unhappy bowels. That was probably the only part of the vacation where we didn't care that it was raining - we were stuck indoors, exhausted, sick in bed and sticking as close to the bathroom as possible anyways. On the third day Luke and I decided it would be best for me to visit the walk-in-clinic as dehydration during pregnancy is a concern and we weren't sure what other complications to the pregnancy it could be causing. It was a good thing that we went. The doctor listened to my stomach and said,
"There's a party in your belly and it isn't your baby. Your intestines are not happy."
I was promptly put on a mild antibiotic. Thankfully it started to work almost immediately. Unfortunately for Luke he simply tried Imodium which seemed to work for the first couple days, but then hit him full force our last night in Costa Rica and then had to deal with it during our ten hour, which became twelve hours due to delays, flight back to Canada. In fact, he's still dealing with it six days after being home!

Finally, just to add a little more to our experience, on the last night in Puerto Viejo we went to a restaurant. We were the only ones whereas all other shops were bustling; this should've been our warning. When we sat down Luke noticed his foot was stinging. He looked down and his foot was nearly on top of a nest of fire ants. In many ways Luke had a worse time of it than I did. However, in other ways I had my own troubles. For instance I ended up with a yeast infection. I know that yeast infections are really common, almost normal, in pregnancy. But I have only ever had one before - and that was before I was married. So, in the full two and half years I've been married and twenty-four weeks (over half) of my pregnancy not once have I had to deal with this entirely itchy and sore infection. Then I got to Costa Rica where it was nearly impossible to stay dry and the water wasn't exactly sanitary (we learnt later that a squirrel had access and was in contact with the same water supply we were using) and I ended up with a yeast infection. It seemed slightly suspicious to me.

To wrap up the whole ordeal we finally arrived at the Vancouver airport at three in the morning. My entire schedule had been thrown off by flight delays. My baby girl is pretty particular that she wants to be fed almost every two hours, or I pay the consequences. In addition, first thing in the morning, whether that means I'm waking up at four in the morning to catch a flight or sleeping in to nine or ten, when I get up she demands eggs - no other protein is as fast and as easily digested. So, I didn't get to eat dinner until nine at night and then I was up at three in the morning - with no breakfast on its way. I didn't feel sick during the landing, I felt fine walking through the jet way (perhaps because my body was adjusting to a temperature of minus two degrees celsius) but as soon as I hit the warmth of the airport I was instantly nauseous. I desperately looked around for a bathroom or a garbage can. There was nothing. I just had to continue. It finally hit while I was on the moving sidewalk. Thankfully I was one of the last people off the plane and there wasn't anyone in front of me. Luke was a ways ahead of me trying to get to the bathroom as quickly as possible for himself when he heard the all too familiar sound of me vomiting. There I was with no ability to hold it back, nothing to contain it, and no way to clean it up. I must've looked absolutely pathetic and as a pair we were pretty pathetic. There was nothing Luke could do for me except hand me a half empty bottle of Gatorade.

Here ends our attempted babymoon.

Towel swans in Hotel Louisiana.
We stayed at this hotel for our last night
in Costa Rica. The bed was incredibly soft
and the shower was steamy hot and pressurized.
It was absolute luxury.

In many ways it seems as if our trip was a disaster. However, I keep asking myself what aspect, perspective, or bigger picture was I supposed to learn or get out of it? I really don't believe our expectations were too high: all we wanted to do was relax and spend a full two weeks enjoying each other's presence. In that sense our goal was achieved. We did spend two weeks relaxing together, but rather than on the beach as we had imagined it happened mostly riding our bikes in the rain,

attempting to wait the weather out in one of the many sodas (open concept restaurants), or curled up together watching movies on Netflix in our hostel room. Taking it all in and relating it to my pregnancy - which definitely hasn't progressed as hoped or expected - I've come to personally experience the full truth that each pregnancy is unique and rarely progresses as planned without a hitch. Yet, the important thing to remember is to take it all in: the good and the bad. Besides it's the stories that go completely awry that are the most interesting ones to tell.

These messed up stories may not have many memories to be cherished, but they're the ones that continue to be told and laughed about around family dinners and campfires for years to come. Also it's a good reminder for me when the time for labour arrives. I'll admit that for this I have high expectations: I want a home birth, I have no desire to end up at the hospital as just the idea completely freaks me out, I want as little intervention as possible, I want a relaxing environment, and I want to be left to labour for as long as it takes without the pressure of a timeline. I don't believe these are unreasonable expectations as I believe wholeheartedly that pregnancy and labour are natural and normal events that our bodies are wonderfully designed to go though. However, I do have to be prepared that the unforeseen may happen that requires medical attention and a hospital delivery: I may end up with gestational diabetes, my baby girl may end up breech and unable to turn, or while I'm labouring at home my blood pressure may spike or something else might arise. So just as I have to search for the silver lining in my supposedly disaster of a baby moon, when it comes to the rest of my pregnancy and then time for labour and delivery, if a turn of events occurs that leaves me tempted to be thoroughly disappointed, instead of focusing on the negative I'll have to remember that at least I'll have a dramatic story to tell. Hopefully all will be well and labour won't throw me for a loop and I can have the delivery I so strongly believe in and have dreamed of. For now I'm happy to say that minus some normal discomforts (like my intestines being squashed to the sides and my stomach being squashed up underneath my ribcage and breast) and after my horrendous first trimester up until eighteen weeks, I have been quite enjoying my second trimester.