Friday, February 22, 2008

Don't Give Up

"You Are Loved (Don't Give Up)"

Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world
When your heart's heavy I...
I will lift it for you

Don't give up
Because you want to be heard
If silence keeps you I...
I will break it for you
Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can hear you
Everybody wants to be loved

Don't give up
Because you are loved
Don't give up
It's just the hurt that you hide
When you're lost inside I...
I will be there to find you

Don't give up
Because you want to burn bright
If darkness blinds you I...
I will shine to guide you
Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can hear you
Everybody wants to be loved

Don't give up
Because you are loved
You are loved

Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world
Don't give up
Every one needs to be heard
You are loved

(Josh Groban)


Thursday, February 14, 2008

The Colourful Bunch



For Valentine's Day this year, we decided to host a "colours party." A co-worker of mine came up with the idea (I think...there may be a social tradition I don't know about) and hosted one during New Year's Eve. Ever since hearing the idea, I have wanted to do one with our homegroup crew. So, we did it. And everyone really go into it!

I drew colours from a hat and assigned them to each guest. They came dressed entirely in their colour and also brought food to share in their colour. It was really fun to see the array of colour around the table. We had lime pudding, yellow peppers, purple olives and grapes, popcorn, blueberry yogurt, green pasta with pesto sauce and other spunky delicacies.

My sister-in-law owns a game called "True Colours" that we played. It's basically a "getting to know the real you" sort of game and it went over really well.

Toward the end of the night, we took turns answering questions in a personality test called the "animal in you". If you've never hearde of it, take a look at the website and see what animal you are most like. I find it insightful and fun to discuss as a group.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

A Miracle Everytime


Since Mid-December, I have been picking up night shifts on the maternity ward. We've decided to plan for one 12-hour shift a week. And to be honest, one is all I can handle while balancing my time with the kids and running my home business. I know I am not very old, but night shifts hit me differently than they used to, and it takes a couple of days to feel fully myself again.


All that aside, I love being back in the maternity-world of birthing and babies. Every birth is an exquisite miracle, again and again. I never get bored.


On my first shift back, we had a birth that started in tragedy. An older women, in her 40's, called in with some concerns. She had woken up to use the washroom and suddenly saw blood. Her due date was just around the corner, and she was starting to have mild contractions. Our triage nurse asked her to come in right away so we could make sure everything was alright.


About 15 minutes later, we received a phone call from an ambulance attendant. He reported that a car had slid on the icy-snowy roads and into the ditch. The woman inside was pregnant and afraid and said she was on the way to the hospital. She couldn't feel her baby moving and was in turmoil over the accident.


They brought her in immediately and she was sobbing. I received her into room 4 and quickly moved her into a bed. She kept asking over and over, "please, my baby. I need to hear my baby!" I grabbed the external fetal monitor to find a heartbeat. My hands were shaking and my heart felt twisted into a knot of grief. Tears were running down her face, her husband's face, MY face. It was emotional to say the least.


Suddenly, we heard it. The clear, cheerful tap of her baby's heart. She was perfectly fine, safe and secure inside the cozy walls of the womb, tucked away and kept from harm. The relief was audible as we let out pent-up collective breath and gave thanks in our hearts. And it turned out the blood was merely pre-labour preparation, and she was well into her 1st stage of childbirth, rounding the corner toward the moment when she would hold her baby in her arms.

In that moment of waiting, I remember thinking about the poignant promise held in the hope for a baby. There is nothing like it. The fresh spark that a new life is coming, a clean-slated soul, wide open to take in the world, to reveal once again, the grace-filled beginning of humanity. It is the first step to adulthood. The innocent other and sun-side of the cycle, the illumination of the shadow.


I read a quote once, "babies are such a nice way to start people". I love that. And I find that being in close contact with the "start" of us, keeps me hopeful about humanity. Somehow I am given these glimpses into how a crusty-cranky old man starts out. He is, inside it all, a suckling pinkness, soft and round, and the absolute fulfillment of someone's desire.


We are knit in love, strand by strand, in the pulsing warmth of womb. And then we enter, close-lidded and dramatic, in a heaving push of relief. There are no ordinary births. Just miracles everytime.