Where are we now?

I just poured cold water into Nixin’s breakfast bowl. Nixin watched me, confused and a little amused, as my water bottle stood patiently nearby. That’s why we’re not going to Turtle Town this morning. 

More accurately, we’re not going because Pyra is teething and she and I didn’t get enough restful sleep last night. I quickly gave up and went back to bed after trying to persuade Rod to take Nixin to the beach without us. 

This lifestyle is an interesting mix of vacation and … “life” that I feel we  haven’t yet sorted out. We’re still finding our footing and figuring things out as we go. I feel a bit like we’re moving around in limbo. Maybe it’s because I’m so used to the idea of venturing out from a permanent residence: you leave your home and stuff behind for a certain period and then return and resume where you left off. Only we just left, we didn’t leave off. We have no home to return to (although I admit that the generosity of my parents to share their home with us is very near the feeling of having our own home). 

I was frustrated that Rod wouldn’t take Nixin to the beach without me, because we’re only on Maui a couple more days, and our time with Nixin is fleeting. Who knows when she’ll next have the chance to swim with sea turtles? More importantly, when will he have the chance to share the experience of swimming with sea turtles with his daughter? Well, maybe it will be tomorrow, or maybe it will be never. Who knows? 

On vacations you generally are more motivated to get out and experience things because your time away from “real life” is limited. But what if you’re living a semi-permanent vacation? Is our motivation declining because we don’t have a deadline to return to “real life?” Or is today just an off day because we’re all a little under the weather? I’m sitting on the lanai (pretty sure that’s what they call a deck here?) soaking in some gentle morning sun, listening to the coos and chirps of island birds, with the sea shimmering a deep blue just a few hundred feet away. But I’m letting my daughter sit in the air-conditioned apartment and watch “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego.” 

I’m going to have to do better to take these things in stride, because this IS our life. There will be down days, and there will likely be many more than I imagined. We’re not out on a quick 2-week trip, we’re just “out.” There will be indoor tv days even in paradise. But I’m grappling with this, because as much as I appreciate relaxed, having down time, and not over-planning, I feel the tug of mortality and uncertainty in my periphery- the uncertainty of how long this lifestyle will last. There are other variables, out of our control, that we have to contend with and incorporate into the equation. 

We don’t get to make all of the decisions for Nixin’s experience and future on our own. There have already been some shadows of roadblocks coming to light that we’ll have to navigate. And it may potentially lead to a change in course. 

But I ramble in my cocoon of sleepy thoughts. I guess I just want to make sure I appreciate this life right now, as we live it. And to really live it, even as it stretches out in front of us indefinitely. I don’t know if we’re at the beginning of long and durable venture, or if this beginning butts up against the unexpected ending. 

I may have experienced a sleepless night with a teething baby, and awoke to feel unrested and grumpy, but the Maui morning sun has soaked into my bones as I sat writing this, removing the sense of frustration and anxiety that permeated my foggy thoughts. The blue water swept those unwanted feelings out to sea. The chorus of birds have brightened my outlook and helped to adjust my perspective. 

We can never know exactly where we sit on our journey through life. But that’s ok, especially if we recognize and appreciate the inevitable uncertainty as opportunity. 

Mahalo Maui. 

Sleep Training, Part 2- Not Quite Magic, But Close Enough

I’m sitting down during another no-fuss nap, after a night of good sleep. It’s been just over a week since we’ve started and the change to my life has been absolutely dramatic.

It’s incredible to me how quickly and easily our nights were transformed from me getting up every hour and nursing Pyra back to sleep, to an entire night of sleep without a peep from Pyra. Some nights there are a couple fussy periods, and often I choose to give Pyra a “dream feed” or two to help keep up my milk supply (technically I am an “older mother,” even if my husband balks at the term and assures me otherwise!). The results of the “cry it out” method (CIO) were so positive and so immediate- and with so little crying, despite the common name of the method- that it really felt like CIO was a little bit of magic for our family.

Pyra is comfy in her new bed!

The reason that CIO is not pure magic: naptime continues to be tricky. I was prepared for this, having read that nighttime sleep is easier, so you should work on that first then move onto naptime which is harder for babies to catch on. However, since Pyra transitioned her nighttime sleep so incredibly fast, I was still surprised and disappointed that naps were so much more difficult. There is definite naptime improvement, but it is slower progress. There is also a lot more trial-and-error and second-guessing involved with naptimes (Is she ready to go down? Should I get her up, leave her to cry, or soothe her back to sleep?) which leaves room for a parent to regret decisions and feel like they have no idea what they are doing. Naps are just way harder. At least they have been for us.

I’ve started to think ahead to when we start to travel and wonder how that will go. I know that we will have trying times ahead of us and I’m working on my perspective now, so that I don’t get overwhelmed and super frustrated later on. Naptime conditions will change considerably when we are traveling. If naps are out of whack, what happens to nighttime sleep? How will we cope with four of us sleeping in the same room with a crying baby? How will it feel to have a baby crying in someone else’s home?

I’m encouraged by our nighttime success that things will go pretty well, but we have tried one sleepover at my sister’s and it was a little rougher than usual. There is often some intermittent fussing and crying in the first hour or two after we put her down. It’s one thing to have that in your own home, and another to “subject” other people to it in a home you’ve been welcomed into.

One step we’ve taken to provide Pyra with better sleeptime consistency is to purchase a travel bed. We went back and forth about whether to haul around a baby bed, but ultimately we decided it might prove to be worth its weight in gold (and if it’s not we can get rid of it along the way!). Our rationale is that if she has a familiar bed and bedtime routine, it won’t be so disruptive to change locations. Children adapt so quickly, we’re sure she’ll get used to moving around, but we think the bed will provide some comfort and make transitions smoother. And if baby is sleeping well, the whole family will sleep better.

The travel bed will not only provide comfort, but it will provide safety as well. It makes me feel a lot better knowing that Pyra will be in a safe place to sleep wherever we go. She’s already starting to roll around, and soon enough she’ll be crawling. We don’t know what our housing will look like, but no matter where we are, Pyra will sleep in a safe bed.

We bought the Guava Lotus Travel Crib (http://bit.ly/GuavaLotusTravelCrib) for its lightweight portability and good reviews. After we’ve used it more- and lugged it around the world- I’ll post my own review. So far, it’s been four nights and it seems to be working out great. We have already used it at my sister’s house for some naps and an overnight. Considering that we’re still in the early days of sleep training, I’d say the experience was very successful.

Well, I’ve reached the end of this post … in one sitting! Pyra is still sleeping soundly and I’m going to go make a coffee and hope that I have a few moments to sip it before going up to get my rested, happy baby.

Comfort in Insignificance

When life feels difficult, or even unbearable, remember the importance of perspective. 

I am comforted by my insignificance, by the enormity of time surrounding the flash of my existence. 

Remember that this nearly imperceptible flash is all we get, and that we are the center of our personal universe. You exist for you, and I exist for me. 

I am the center of a massive web of relationships, experiences, and interactions. If we want our web to be woven with love, the center must be at peace and full of love at the core, from within, then reach outward to our surroundings. 

Find your peace. Exalt in your insignificance. 

************

I wrote this letter to myself sometime in the past. It’s undated, but I’m guessing it was 5-10 years ago. I found it as I was cleaning out files before we left for Ecuador. 

I’ve always felt more comfortable knowing that I’m an insignificant speck in the universe. Of course I still affect the lives of others, impact the environment, and generally play a role here on earth- it’s just a teensy, tiny role. Played out just for a moment. The thing is to make that moment as big and lovely as I can. 

Stepping Into the Light

I have several posts that are waiting for me to find the time and patience to type out. For some reason, I thought I would be writing all the time once the baby was born. I’d just be sitting around smiling at my newborn and have a fresh, energized mind and two free hands to write all I want, right? Ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha … ha. As I write this, I do have two free hands even though there is an adorable baby latched to my breast (I figured out how to prop her up so that I can type with both of my hands!), but my mind is far from fresh or energized. So … this post may end up a little funky … if I even manage to finish it.

Anyway. I write now on a topic I hadn’t planned to, but that’s been knocking around in my head lately: the effect of sunlight on (my) health and wellness.

Obviously, I’m not a brilliant luminary shedding light on a glowing new topic (I told you my brain is on the frazzled side), as scientists have been studying the effect of light on humans for a long time.  I just found this article– from the year I was born- on how sunlight may affect, not just mood, but fertility as well. My suspicion has long been that my infertility is due to a complex amalgam of issues related to imbalances in my immune system and hormones (not just the “sex” hormones, but ones typically not associated with fertility), but I had never considered that sunlight may play a role in my infertility.

Part of the reason we moved out of Alaska was to see if increased exposure to sunlight would help my (recently acknowledged, self-diagnosed) Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Let me tell you:

Moving to the equator may have been the single best decision I have made in my entire life. Seriously.

Since coming to live in Ecuador, I’m beginning to believe that exposure to sunlight has had an even greater influence on my well-being, and life in general, than I could have ever imagined.

For starters, it’s late November and I’m not sluggishly and irritably crawling out of bed just to day-dream of sleeping all day. In fact, yesterday I took a walk outdoors at 7 am. Of my own volition. In a good mood. What, what, what?! All the more impressive since I’m up half the night with a 2-month-old.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I’d cope this well with the lack of sleep that accompanies caring for an infant.  I’m convinced that if I had stayed home in Alaska, yesterday morning would have seen me either asleep, trying to sleep, desperately sleepy, or ridiculously grouchy. Here in Ecuador, I feel better on less sleep. I wake up more easily than I ever have, and I feel more rested than I ever have.

I also believe that increased exposure to sunlight has alleviated my tendency to be, to put it bluntly, a bitch.  I’m simply not as moody and irritable. My patience is more generous and I’m not (as) snippy. This is a beautiful change, not just for the people around me, but for me too. My irritability has been a source of immense personal guilt over the years. I don’t want to be snippy and impatient. I’ve always known that’s not who I really am, but I haven’t been able to figure out how to fix the problem. Here at the equator, I have felt that my patience runs deeper and my moods are much more even. It feels really, really, really good. Really good. The irritability and guilt ran cyclical with deeper feelings of darkness that were hard (or impossible) for me to climb out of. That leads me to the topic of the “D” word: depression.

It is clear to me now, that every winter since puberty I have slid into a mild depression. I never recognized it as being seasonal, and I also didn’t acknowledge that I was actually depressed. There was always something on which to blame my sadness, extreme lethargy, inadequacy, or apathy:  puberty itself and hormones, unmet expectations, stress at work, grief, etc. Only recently did I recognize the pattern. These life experiences weren’t causing my unfavorable symptoms, it was depression that was keeping me from coping with life’s ups and downs in a healthy way and leading to undesirable responses. I have suffered for years, and my family (especially my husband) has suffered along with me.

I believe that even the grief of my infertility and pregnancy losses was more intense and more disruptive because of SAD. I coped with my summer-time miscarriages much better than those in the winter. In the few months with prolonged sunlight, I felt more hopeful and motivated. I reached my lowest low of incapacitating grief during the mid-winter darkness. I was non-functioning. I was so low, that I reached out for professional help. And for the first time in my life, I took a prescription medication for mental health. What I wonder now: would I have reacted so deeply, would I have struggled so painfully, had I received more exposure to natural sunlight?

I also believe that sunlight somehow affects immune function. Whether it’s related to a role of hormone regulation, or something else, I have no idea. This article seems to point to the same hypothesis, without specifically stating so. There is evidence that exposure to sunlight affects immune-related disorders such as psoriasis, eczema, rheumatoid arthritis, IBS, lupus, and thyroiditis. One of my fertility doctors diagnosed me with an immunological abnormality, to which he attributed my recurrent miscarriages. Could increased exposure to sunlight be a possible treatment for some cases of infertility??? That old article from my birth year states that there is at least some evidence that this may be true.

As to the potential effect on other areas of my life, I recently made the link between job dissatisfaction and SAD. As I recall, the apathy and daily battle to get out of bed for work were mostly during winter months. I think I would have appreciated and enjoyed my jobs more if I could see the light of day. Furthermore, I have frequently felt inadequate because I feel that I easily become inordinately stressed out about work. I have felt broken, weak, and a failure. The stress at work that I just couldn’t handle? I don’t think it was really that I was incompetent, but that my body was incapable of a healthy stress response and so I would just shut down. I would go home and go straight to bed, or even stay home from work in order to sleep.

I don’t know that I’ve articulated my case very well, but I’m going to wrap this post up anyway. I haven’t written this piece in one sitting, but I would like to publish it on the same day I started to write it so that I don’t run the risk of “the post that was never completed.”

One thing is for sure: I can never go back to how things were. My hypothesis may be completely incorrect and the antidote is something other than (or in addition to) sunlight.  But if I ever spend time in a geographical region with prolonged darkness, I will be taking precautions to safeguard my wellness and ensure  that I get adequate sunlight every day.

I wonder how many of my friends and family, how many of the folks reading this, would flourish- or at least feel like a better version of themselves- if, on a daily basis, they could step out into the light.

 

Photo credit: © 2018, Rodney Wehr. Cuenca, Ecuador

The Little Things of Cuenca

What makes a location, let’s say a city, special? Sometimes it’s very obvious, well-known characteristics (I’m thinking: Eiffel tower, pastries, art, history, mimes, etc.)  But I think it’s often the multitude of little, seeming inconsequential quirks, that breathe distinct life into a place. Subtleties that may even go unrecognized but create a unique feel and flavor, both for residents and visitors. And I think that sometimes these qualities are so subtle that they hard to appreciate unless you’re a visitor, or if you’ve been absent and returned.

Cuenca, Ecuador is a well-loved city, by many people, for many reasons. Tourists and resident expats feel welcome and safe here. The colonial architecture of the historic district distinguishes Cuenca from other Ecuadorian cities. It’s a very walkable city, with the best drinking water in the country (or so we’ve heard). Cuenca is supposedly more “laid back” than other cities in Ecuador, and while I haven’t actually visited any other cities in Ecuador yet, Cuenca definitely seems to fit the “laid back” designation.

As a new arrival, I have a lot to learn about Cuenca, her people, and what makes this city special to so many. And yet, there are qualities that Rodney and I noticed right away and have appreciated from day one. Other characteristics took me longer to realize, and I’m sure there are many other little things that make life in Cuenca pleasant or different, but I just haven’t recognized their presence or absence yet. I’ll try to add to this list as my thick skull allows- and feel free to comment if you’re a local or have visited Cuenca and would like to add in your thoughts!

I will note that this list is purely from our experience, and others may have different opinions/realities. Also, some of these characteristics might be valid for all of Ecuador, or even all of South America, as I have yet to visit any other areas of the continent. These are just some of our impressions; the little things that make Cuenca special, welcoming, and pleasant to us.

  • this may not be particular to Cuenca, but it’s something I noticed in the last week: older children holding hands with their parents as they walk down the sidewalk. My heart feels a little fuller every time I see it, and I feel like I didn’t see it as much at home. But maybe that’s just because, at home, we drive everywhere? In Alaska, would I see adolescent boys and girls holding their parent’s hand on the way to school or to the store if they were walking instead of driving?
  • locals seem to be very patient and low-key in their (at least public) demeanor
    • folks do not ever seem to be in a hurry nor seem to get worked up/impatient when there is a line or inconvenience
    • in the almost-month we’ve been here, I’ve yet to hear yelling, screaming, or even an argument with raised voices. Actually, I don’t think I’ve witnessed a recognizable argument yet.
  • I feel like, in general, the epidemic of “self-importance” has not hit Cuenca.
    • I was just realizing how much I appreciate the lack of persons with the “holier than thou art,” “I’ve got places to be and people to see,” “don’t inconvenience me,” mentality. I wonder if it’s because there isn’t much of a wealth/class disparity? It may well exist, but I haven’t recognized it yet … I don’t see well-dressed folks avoiding or snubbing those with less.
  • sidewalks and parks are kept very clean from litter and dog waste
    • Rod discovered that there is a pretty steep fine for not picking up your dog waste- I love that!! I wish that littering fines were enforced in the USA … even (or maybe especially) for cigarette butts. It’s mind-boggling to me that people think throwing a butt on the ground is acceptable.
    • there are folks regularly sweeping the sidewalks (not to mention that many shop owners scrub the sidewalk in front of their business most morning)
    • park vegetation appears to be cared for well and regularly (no long grass or overgrown landscaping)
  • we were really surprised about this one: cigarette smoking is uncommon
    • the majority of smoking I see is by foreigners
    • when I asked a local about why there isn’t more smoking, she didn’t really have an answer; she didn’t seem to realize that there isn’t as much smoking here as in other places. She did say that you’ll see more smoking at bars and discos, but we have yet to visit such an establishment to verify this 🙂
    • all the restaurants we’ve visited have been smoke-free, and have only experienced smoking annoyances at an outdoor seating area of a cafe
  • locals do not approach us (obvious foreigners) to sell things/ask for money
  • taxis have working meters and drivers charge only what the meter reads
  • grocers and shopkeepers appear to charge foreigners and locals the same prices for goods
  • very, very, very few insects/arachnids/creepy-crawlers (this is super remarkable to us, coming from the land of incessant mosquitoes, plentiful no-see-ums and other flying and crawling pests)
  • we’ve rarely seen folks who appear to be homeless or that blatantly struggle with substance abuse
  • it feels like a very family-friendly city. The parks are well used and families seem to spend a lot of time together. Kids seem to go everywhere with their parents and to really be members of the family, i.e. helpful, given responsibility, and acknowledged as a person, rather than simply doted on or excluded from “real life.”
  • I think this last one is a difference between the USA and the rest of the world … maybe? I appreciate, what appears to be, the honest representation of self here. The lack of disingenuous friendliness, particularly in customer service. I think so many interpersonal interactions in the US are plagued by social facades that mask true feelings and over-emphasize cheeriness and interest until we don’t even know what is “real” and “honest” in a relationship anymore. I suppose it’s because I’m an introvert, who appreciates candid and honest social interactions, that I appreciate that folks here just seem to be who they are, whatever mood they are in … and are generally neither super-friendly, nor frustratingly rude.

Maybe these aren’t even things that are unique to Cuenca and maybe folks would argue that they aren’t things that make the city special. Maybe these are just some things that I’ve noticed and wanted to recognize. I don’t know. But now there’s a list.

And Now We Live In Cuenca

One and a half weeks in Cuenca, already?!

I should’ve written prior to this, but I was too wrapped up/overwhelmed/tired/overstimulated with the move and figuring things out to settle my brain enough to write. But, now I’m ready!

I feel like we’ve accomplished a lot, but at the same time it’s been so relaxing and low key. Most days are spent reading, going to the market or out to eat (especially if a World Cup match is on!), various tasks related to moving logistics and getting settled, finding desserts for Rodney (OK, for me too), and doing a lot, a lot, a lot of walking.

Elevation

We both have noticed some effects from the elevation (2,500m/8,200ft) but luckily, we haven’t felt sick. Mostly we’ve noticed our heart rates and blood pressure are a bit higher and that we get winded more easily. We’re hoping to adjust quickly and figure that walking a lot should help. We’ve also wondered how a few months of development and being born at this altitude will affect Pyra (our bun in the oven!!), if very much at all- I suppose no lasting affects. Another elevation-related realization is just how intense the sun is!! While most days have had cloud-cover, as soon as the sun hits your skin the temperature seems to climb 10-20F! We finally got some sunscreen as we noticed that we seem to get a lot of sun even though its overcast most of the day.

Housing

We have an apartment that we plan to stay in until November, and we’re really liking it- both the location and the apartment itself. We feel pretty fortunate; we found it just a couple days after arriving, and it has a ton of great features: heart of the city; double-paned windows to dim the street noise (this appears to be very uncommon and we’re extremely grateful for them!); furnished tastefully and thoroughly (good beds, many kitchen appliances- they even installed an oven for us!!!); all utilities paid (thankful we don’t need to deal with local utility companies); 2 bedrooms and 1.5 bath (welcome, guests!!); family-owned building (very sweet and accommodating people); and … walking distance to most everything!!! The son of the family speaks excellent English which helped us feel comfortable negotiating for the apartment ourselves. The son owns/manages a really nice gym downstairs and the parents invited us for coffee and rolls the day we signed our contract. 🙂

Language

We took the plunge and signed up for Spanish lessons today at a local language school. We knew we wanted to sign Rod up for an intensive course to get him going (I’m so proud of his efforts already!) but they gave us a deal for me to take lessons too. I’m really excited- I’m such a sucker for languages 🙂  Rod will likely continue with the intensive course for longer, but I’ll go for a week and then switch to some conversation practice sessions or less-frequent tutoring. We attended one English-Spanish language conversation exchange last Friday, and we’ll probably continue to go; it’s good for me to practice in a more conversational context than just market transactions. We’re not sure what to do when Nixin gets here, but I think a little bit of the intensive course would be good to help her re-discover her basics (she was in an immersion school for K-2) and build up some confidence quickly.

I have to say, it’s been awesome with Spanish so far. I’m getting tons of practice!! I was really surprised (and pleased) to find that locals don’t switch over to English, even when confronted with my very rudimentary Spanish skills. It’s going to be so great for Rod and Nixin! I still grasp for words from my limited vocabulary, and I only use present tense verbs (and probably incorrectly, at that), but we’re able to do what we need to! We’ve successfully taken taxis, purchased bus and local SIM cards, and kept ourselves well-fed. OK, so maybe we haven’t need language skills to do much of anything aside from order food and understand prices at the markets … but it feels pretty good. I think it has helped to feel more settled, faster.

Other Stuff

We’re also getting to know the streets and way around “el centro,” where we live.  In fact, today I was able to point out to the taxi driver a better way to get us home! Many of the streets are one-way and he just wasn’t familiar with our neighborhood … but if felt good that I was familiar enough to point out the right way! We’re starting to navigate from memory and feel rather than relying completely on a map, which is awesome. It’s incredible to think that we’re going to be at this location for at least 5 more months and then how “at home” will we feel?!

OK, my eyes are asking to be done with the computer, so I’m going to oblige them. I was going to tell about our first pre-natal appointment (which was great!), but I’ll get to that soon.

I hope that you, dear reader who apparently got through this whole sloppy post, are feeling good in your life and that you have a wonderful rest of your day!!

Oh! and I did get around to posting photos here on this site, and also setting up an Instagram account. If you might like keeping up on our adventures via images, I encourage you to follow us on Instagram … I’m finding its a really easy and convenient way to share what we’re up to.

Until next time- make a choice (that you usually would not) that makes your heart swell with joy!!! Life is short, love yourself!

“Last” Day in Alaska

Note: I started this post on the afternoon of our last day in Alaska, although I published it from Cuenca, Ecuador, a few days later. I couldn’t quite get it finished at home; my brain was too preoccupied with preparations and other priorities.


Well, the day has finally arrived. Actually, after creeping towards us for months, “The Last Day” swooped in and swept us away. It’s now afternoon on The Last Day, and while there is still a little more to do, we’re mostly ready to head to the airport. The primary goal for the rest of the day is to spend time with family … time is passing altogether too quickly.

In fact, our last weeks in Alaska seemed to defy the laws of nature, as each day dissolved into night in record time. Our to-do lists kept growing as available time kept shrinking. But we’re getting on that flight tonight; we’re headed to Ecuador.

With limited time and patience, I’m just going to quickly jot down some of our last-minute preparations/experiences:

  • We finalized our transition from a four-vehicle-family to a no-car family. Rod sold his ’69 Chevy last fall, the “big truck” went earlier this spring, and we both handed over the keys to our daily drivers two days ago. It felt like being a teenager again: Mom and Dad were very generous, both in allowing us to borrow their cars and in shuttling us to various family gatherings. For many people, not owning a car is not a big deal, but we’ve been dependent on private transportation for all the years we’ve lived in Alaska. Eschewing private vehicles is a huge leap for us.
  • This morning, the morning of our departure, we discovered that our plan to “port” our Alaskan phone numbers to Google Voice was ill-conceived. Google Voice (and most other VoIP service providers won’t port an Alaska number, it seems. We are now trying to figure out if there is any way to keep our current phone numbers … but it’s not looking good.
  • In the last months and weeks, I’ve struggled to balance preparations to leave, Nixin’s homeschool, and quality time with family and friends. If I were able to revise my choices, I would put greater effort into the relationships. Even so, I did get lots of hugs and kisses and squeals of laughter from my nieces and nephews to carry with me.
  • One last haul of clothes/belongings to a donation center. It’s funny, it was placing some of Rodney’s clothes in a bag for donation when it really hit me: all our belongings will be on our backs and in some checked luggage. When I was getting rid of my clothes it never struck me, but looking at Rodney’s t-shirts that I’m so used to seeing him wear, and that I’ll never see him wear again … my heart and throat clenched up a little. The reality of what we are doing, the “sacrifices” and adjustments we are making to experience a different way of living … it just sunk in a little deeper.
  •  Last minute decision to purchase compression hose for me … the double whammy of pregnancy and a lot of flying made it seem like a good idea.
  • While we were in town getting the hose, Rod talked me into replacing my rain coat. I was on the fence for months about this … I LOVE my Arcteryx shell … but I’ve been wearing it for about 5 years and it’s waterproofing isn’t great anymore. When I realized that I tend to avoid wet weather because of the jacket’s diminished impermeability, I knew I needed to get a new jacket. I wasn’t mentally prepared to drop several hundred to replace my incredible coat, though, so I got less expensive REI-brand raincoat. There weren’t a lot of color options, but I got one I never would have chosen in the past: “Flash Pink.” It’s kind of orangey/red/pink. Rod and I have noticed how nice it is to have easily-identifiable outerwear when we travel; we don’t like to lose one another. And while he has a gorgeously subtle navy blue Arcteryx, I’m content to be the eyesore if it means he can always find me 🙂

OK. Time to head to our family gathering; hard to believe we won’t get to be physically present with some of these loved ones for eight months. I know that many families are scattered across state lines and continents, but for the last eight years, I’ve been very close to my family, so this is going to be tough.

Tonight is the night: we say goodbye to Alaska for now, and head off for a new way of living.

2-For-1 Adventure: We’re Having a Baby in Ecuador

90 days until we depart Alaska for Ecuador … and about 25 weeks more of pregnancy.

(SURPRISE!!! We’re having a baby!)

Adventure #1 – Pregnancy, childbirth, and a baby

If you’re a general member of the public, you may not realize what a huge, huge, huge, huge deal this pregnancy is for us. We’ve been riding an agonizing emotional rollercoaster of infertility for several years, but last year we called it quits and finally gave up trying for a successful pregnancy. We had spent thousands on medical help, lost five (known) early pregnancies, and shed countless tears. The emotional toll of the endeavor had grown too great and we were ready to move on with our lives. And so we did.

Instead of draining our energy on unsuccessful family-building, we redirected ourselves towards positive life-building in general. Our infertility experience made it excruciatingly clear to us that we are unable to control all aspects of our existence, but that nonetheless, we have the power of choice in all situations. Sometimes the apparent options will all seem undesirable; but we still get to choose which is the least undesirable.

We were not able to choose to have our own biological children, but we could choose to forego the years of certain emotional turmoil that would come with sticking the course. We could choose to proactively build a healthier relationship and life while we are still physically and mentally able in lieu of the tenuous and dark path that would never guarantee a biological child at the end. We have a limited length of time to live in a healthy body, and our experience reminded us of the importance to control what we can in order to create a life worth living. (If you want to read more about our infertility experience, jump to my old blog: So, this is happening …)

OK … so where was I going before I got off course … oh, yeah!

SURPRISE! We’re having a baby!

We discovered I was pregnant Thursday, January 25th. The next day I was shocked (and elated and anxious) to find that a viable fetus with a heartbeat was snuggled in my uterus (every single ultrasound I’ve had prior to this one has shown us only disappointment or sorrow). Two weeks later, we were nearly 9 weeks into the pregnancy and the baby-to-be was still alive and growing at a normal rate. I had sobbed at all of my zillions of ultrasounds … but never from joy.

Rodney has been my pillar of strength and a well-spring of positive energy from the day we first discovered the pregnancy. You see, when I took that home pregnancy test on January 25th and it was positive … I wasn’t excited. Every positive pregnancy test I’ve ever received … ended with a dead fetus. I was certain that we were in for just another “character building” experience. I really did hold a tiny glimmer of hope deep in my heart … but it’s shine was desperately buried by the shadow of doubt nurtured by years of infertility. But Rodney, from that first day, bolstered me with his excitement and confidence. It was like he willed this baby into good health and denied my body from rejecting it.

We saw the baby in the 12th week … looking like a real baby. Unbelievable. It kicked and somersaulted and was undeniably alive. Today is the first day of week 16 and we’re officially carrying a baby into the second trimester. (Aaaaaaaaa! It’s still sinking in!!) My taste for coffee and hummus has returned, but my husband’s (usually delicious) homemade sauerkraut still repels me and my sweet tooth continues to be much stronger than it has ever been before this pregnancy.

Adventure #2 – Sticking to the lifestyle change

As soon as we realized that this baby intends to join our family, we started to analyze our plans and options. We have tickets to depart Alaska for Sweden in August; plans to  be in Spain and Portugal until October; make our way to Kathmandu for a TEFL course in November; and then hang out in Southeast Asia thereafter. Baby plans to arrive in September. Hm.

To most of our family and friends, there was one obvious and clear choice: delay departure until after Baby is born and then figure out what to do and when. For Rodney and I, this sounded very unappealing. We have been working hard towards and eagerly anticipating the upcoming lifestyle change. To delay departure doesn’t just mean putting off travel, it means that Rodney would be shackled to his 9-to-5 desk job with a daily commute merely to secure ongoing healthcare to afford the birth of Baby. And then, after Baby arrives, Rodney would have limited time off from work to be with his new child. Quite simply, that wasn’t the obvious and clear best choice for us.

We looked at the healthcare costs of various other countries to see if we could afford to stick to our original plan and have Baby along the way. Our minimal research suggested that we would probably pay a similar out-of-pocket amount for Baby to be born in Sweden or Spain as in Alaska, but what we didn’t know is if we would want to bunker down for awhile to adjust to life with new Baby. Additionally, if we were going to have give birth outside of the USA … how about securing dual citizenship as a bonus gift to Baby?

Jus soli, or birthright citizenship, is a privilege offered by relatively few nations- certainly not Sweden or Spain. But when we looked at countries that do confer birthright citizenship, we were excited to see that Ecuador (along with most American nations) is among the few. Ecuador ranked highly in our list of potential countries to move to when we started to talk about lifestyle changes about a year and a half ago. Ultimately, we decided to “slow travel” for an indefinite period before plunging into a more permanent move … but, here was Ecuador again. Waving it’s cheery flag of desirable characteristics.

Ecuador is well-known in the ex-pat community. Its affordable and relatively good healthcare, low-cost living, pleasant climate, incredible biodiversity, foreigner-friendly national language and visa policies have put Ecuador in the top rankings of “best countries for expats” for a handful of years (albeit, it’s rank has slipped a bit in the last year or two as other countries have gained popularity). Having already been on our radar as a potential country to move to, Ecuador quickly became our target destination when it appeared in the list of jus soli countries. We excitedly researched medical and visa options and then with some good-looking data to lean on, decided that moving to Ecuador to have Baby and stay indefinitely will be our new plan.

So there you have it. We’re off on a serendipitous 2-for-1 adventure, thanks to the inability to control all aspects of our existence, combined with the invaluable power to choose. It’s deliberosity, baby: there’s always a choice. And we are doing our best to make the most of our insignificant and fabulous lives. Woooot!!

Perceived Stumbling Blocks May Actually be Your Stepping Stones

About a year and a half ago, Rodney and I started to talk seriously about moving out of Alaska. While we both feel incredibly fortunate to have grown up in this beautiful state, we want to live in a more temperate climate with better access to fresh foods and where we can trade in our dependence on personal vehicles for more environmentally friendly and physically active transportation.

Furthermore, despite the fact that I grew up in the dark winters of Alaska, my body and mind function a trillion times better with exposure to sunlight. (I think I may be part plant.) I want to live where there is more sun, more of the year- for the sake of my health and well-being and in turn, the well-being of my family.

Whenever we’ve discussed moving outside of Alaska, the sticking point has always been the same: a sweet little girl named Nixin.

Nixin is a delightful, intelligent, good-natured human. When I first met her, she was a chubby, hilarious, sweet, almost-two-year-old. At this moment, the slender 9-year-old is bouncing around the house with long legs sticking out from her pajama t-shirt.

Rodney shares equal custody with Nixin’s biological mother. As far as these less-than-ideal situations go, things work out pretty well; Nixin seems incredibly unperturbed by her dealt hand of a split family and we manage fairly good communication between our families. Yet, the custody arrangement has always made our dream of an out-of-state move seem out of the question.

Alaska is far removed from any other state and requires one to fly (or drive for several long days), just to get to any other part of the USA. Seriously- a whole other country sits in between! To get from Anchorage to Seattle (the nearest big city in the “Lower 48”), one must drive  2,250 miles (3,620 km). That is the same as driving from Chicago to San Francisco, with enough miles left over to continue down the coast a couple of hours to Monterey. The feasibility of equal custody with one family in Alaska and the other outside seemed … mmmm, NOT feasible. Especially if Nixin were to remain in the public school system.

However, Rodney and I had reached a point that we could no longer imagine remaining in Alaska until Nixin graduates from high school. (Did I mention that I’m part plant and NEED MORE SUNSHINE?!) We decided to broach the subject with Nixin’s biological mom as a “what if?” We said that someday we’d like to move outside of Alaska … what would we do with the custody agreement then? Much to our surprise, we weren’t the only family with dreams to move.

Nixin’s biological mom had been wanting to move out of Alaska, but like us, thought that it wasn’t feasible. All of a sudden the conversation turned to a discussion about how homeschool would allow for both families to move to wherever they’d like and still allow equal custody of the sweet girl who has little choice in the matter.

Fast forward several months and plans were rounding out. Nixin’s other family decided to move to Washington State to be closer to family, and after some contemplation, we decided to spend a year or so “slow traveling.”  We started to homeschool Nixin in preparation for the planned big changes. Now we have about 6 months of homeschool experience under our belts, our personal belongings and real estate are finding new owners, and we’ve got plane tickets out of the country.

As I finish up this post, we’re 105 days from leaving Alaska, and Nixin’s other family is currently trucking their belongings down the Alcan highway towards Washington State- they actually took the plunge before we did!

What if we had never broached the subject? The response we received was beyond our imagination and turned the tide of our life towards realizing our dreams sooner than expected. Don’t hold back for fear of how others will receive you or what response you might get- who cares what they think! Besides,  your perceived stumbling blocks may actually be your stepping stones.

What’s on your “someday” list?

Your life will end.

Sooner or later.

As macabre as this sounds, it’s true. Each day is a gift of existence and you get to choose how to live. Every morning when you awake is not “just another day.” It is THE day. It is the only day you are certain to wake up to. I know we shouldn’t necessarily live each day as if it’s our last and that living that way wouldn’t be sustainable. But I think that generally, we maintain a dangerous perspective of our mortality and how one ought to experience life. We lean too hard on an expectation of a long and healthy life, and the concept of working hard to retire comfortably is ingrained from childhood. For some, this will work well and they will reach their “golden years” feeling fulfilled. For many, we will look back and say … “What the heck was I thinking?!”

Isn’t it scary to think that “someday” may never come for all those things that you really want to do, but don’t make time for? It might be travel, starting a business, eating out at a ridiculously pricey restaurant that serves 16 courses, skydiving, taking an art class, going to the spa, taking a trip to see grandparents, hiking that one really impressive mountain you’ve been eyeing for years or checking out that one trail you keep hearing about. Why is it that we postpone those things that will make us smile and fill our hearts with joy? Why do we risk that “someday” may never arrive?

I play a game with myself to help maintain my perspective. I ask myself if something will matter to me a week from now, a year from now, 10 years from now, or even on my death-bed. This helps me assign value to various experiences, to shake off an annoying or frustrating interactions, and to make decisions that feel difficult.

When Rodney and I were trying to figure out what to do with our lives, we asked ourselves, “What are we likely to regret most when we’re elderly?” And what we came up with: we are likely to regret that we didn’t travel more. Isn’t that a fairly common one for folks? I’m guessing it is, and I’m guessing that you may have had similar thoughts about wanting to get out into the world more. We use all kinds of excuses to justify why we don’t travel: money, kids, job, responsibilities. But the thing is, if you want it enough, you can make it happen.  You just have to want it enough to work for it. You start putting money aside, you start budgeting and you stop making superfluous purchases. You read about how other families with kids travel. You realize that the world will roll along without you if you duck out for a few weeks and take that trip you’ve always wanted to. You CAN do it. If you really want to.

The trick is to make a concrete plan. Make the decision. Really, that is the hardest part. In fact, even if you decide NOT to do whatever it is, and take it off your “someday” list altogether, I bet you will feel lighter and more satisfaction from that decision alone. If instead, you scratch the item from your “someday” list and move it to a concrete plan, but think that you are likely to cave in and back out on it, build in accountability. Make it public. Use an anticharity. You know your habits and what makes you tick. What will you need to do to make sure you follow through?

What is on your “someday” list? Is there something hanging out there that really belongs on your “do it now” list? What are the excuses you’re using to push it out until “someday?” When you’re wrinkled and hairless (should you be so fortunate), will you be looking back with regrets and wishing you had done more when your body was capable, or will you feel fulfilled and satisfied with the life you chose to live?

I recently heard this Japanese proverb that stuck with me:

Fall seven times, get up eight.

We’re only human. But we can try. And try again. And try again. Don’t let your old-person-self down.