sneaky thyroid and watching the world go by

Sitting in a Starbucks waiting for a 9h30 appointment. I wish it was for a job interview, although it’s probably better that it’s not, given the circumstances.

I love watching people getting to work, grabbing a coffee, making calls as they rush into the day. I used to love that feeling of “being on my way”, music plugged into my ears, a new day unfolding around me and having the time to observe and take in the urban buzz, the world on stage. I took the tram here, and I have to say that in that respect, public transport and walking beat driving and traffic jams any day.
It’s been ages since I’ve done it. I wonder am I nostalgic of a past no-kid-working-girl life or simply of time gone by, of a younger, braver, me.

On Monday, my 5 weeks without thyroid replacement hormone were over and I went for a blood test. Yesterday, I spoke to the endocrinologist and nearly cried with relief when he told me that it was a disaster and I needed to go back on medication right away. I’m not mad, I’m not depressed – it’s my thyroid.

No wonder I’ve been going to bed exhausted at 9pm and dragging myself around all day. No wonder my skin was dry, my eyes watery, my heartbeat erratic, my need for sleep insatiable, my general outlook black. My muscle pains and weakness, headaches, sensitivity to light, being cold all the time, blurry vision, sluggish digestion and moodiness all explained with one single hormone – or lack of it. Impressive.
I took medication again yesterday. I wonder how long before things start looking up. Another test due in 5 weeks, but I’m seeing the doctor on Tuesday to try to find a way to stop this yoyo-ing. I have Emma, a husband, some friends and family I’d like to hang on to thank-you very much! 5 weeks is a hell of a long time to feel awful. Especially added on to the fact that I've been going up and down now for some months.

This thyroid thing is really quite shocking when you think about it. It can take you from aggressive monster to lethargic depressed veggie. It’s massively debilitating and it’s insidious and sneaky.
How can you know if you're really finding people/events/things annoying/depressing/cold or if it's your thyroid? If your whole barometer is out of whack, who and what can you trust?

Never say never

Who would have thought that I'd be missing Izmir?

Certainly not me during (at least) our first six months there!!!

But it's true, I miss Izmir.
Maybe 'cause I never got to properly say good-bye (I mean, I was all wrapped up in going back to Geneva to have Emma, so you can't really blame me for not fully realizing I was going to be moving again, and to a place I had never been to be before - my first visit to Vienna as a toddler does not count!)

I miss the sun!!! the mild 14°C winters and the blue skies (today it snowed in Vienna!)
I miss the green beautiful garden all around our house and the incredible colours and light



I miss the fact that there were hardly ever any traffic jams - although the turks are crazy drivers!
I miss sitting on the terraces of nice cafés chatting or gossiping with friends
I miss being part of a group of women like the International Women of Izmir (IWAI)

I miss going to Bostanli market on Wednesdays with the ferry boat and all the yummy veggies and fruit, olives and nuts that I used to buy there!
I miss Kemeralti Bazaar were I could browse around and enjoy a "çai" or a coke in the shade

I miss the spacious huge house we lived in (although I don't miss the nutty cleaning lady Hamide)

I miss delicious Turkish breakfasts and weekends in Istanbul or Alaçati

(More Alaçati pics)

I miss walking Balou around the flower scented grounds
when all I needed to do was slip on a pair of sandals and a light sweater (that would be a dream now with Emma, instead of pulling on her hat and fitting her hands and arms into a warmer coat or sweater before zipping her into her fleece nest)

I know, I know, you're thinking: "the grass is always greener..." right? But actually, no matter how unhappy and lonely I was in the beginning in Izmir, I never got nostalgic about Geneva. I never had moments of imagining Geneva and Vandoeuvres and missing our life there. I can't say that now about Izmir...
I guess maybe I wasn't quite ready to leave. I think maybe I had just began to feel at home there and I imagine that it would have been nice to return there with baby Emma and introduce her to the friends that were there during my pregnancy.

Also, I have to admit that unfortunately a lot of the good things about Izmir were lost on us for a while there in the beginning. It took us a long time to shift mindsets and stop wanting things to be smooth in the way we wanted them to be. It took us a long time to stop fighting the way things were, a long time to appreciate the smiles and the effort and care less if the actual service/end-result was not always top notch. This in turn meant that we could not enjoy Izmir for what it was, and truly enjoy its positive if sometimes quirky sides.
A lingering feeling of untied knots....

Anyway, back to now: it would be good to spend less time wanting something else than what Vienna has to offer and be able to enjoy it for what it is before another semester goes by... even if discovering the city is made more difficult with a babe and the winter climate.
And if ever we return to a developing country again, especially one with 14° winters, I'll be happy with the septic tank after Vienna's waters and winters.

Marriage and tomorrow's yesterdays

If you think preparing and planning your wedding together tests a marriage, just wait 'till you have a baby!

And if that isn't trying enough, try 3 months (three months today!!) of living out of a suitcase. Make that suitcases, since you're constantly changing sizes in between week 34 of pregnancy and week 40+8, not to mention the change of temperature and season -unless you live somewhere near the equator-, and then there the small matter of the clothes and gear of a fast growing baby...
Add to that, staying with your Mum and your Mum-in-law, while buying and setting up a pad in France (which is great but is also quite a bit of work), before flying out to a new city and house hunting with your lovely newborn while living in a serviced apartment (thankfully equipped with a washing machine)...

And of course, hubs is very much in demand and engrossed in his new position at work and, hey, even traveling....

In the meantime you're desperately trying to sooth yourself with positive thinking and the belief that inner stability is what counts (so what if you've called 5 different places "home" in half as many months and driven as many cars).

So what?

* I've learned to be less anxious and get less unhinged by the small stuff
* modern technology is more than helpful, it actually often saves the day; you can read the paper of your city of choice, keep in touch (and sight!) with friends and family practically instantaneously, lose yourself in music and enroll into a local yoga class that is being set up by another newcomer and discussed on a local forum
* having said that, you really can get by with a lot less stuff than you are used to living with...
* which in turn gives you the opportunity to look around you more and (re)discover that which is most important to you
* hopefully, all of this will be another bumpy corner your marriage will bounce off, and, in a few days, you’ll tease each other about your bloody mindedness and short-lived irritability
* remember to cuddle and play as often as possible - it makes you feel so much better

Mostly, all these moves and co-habitations, travels and change in plans, irritations and encounters have convinced me that you really need to live life in the present; communicate (and not only the about the bad, irritating, annoying stuff), express yourself (go yell in the park or sing in the shower), breathe and concentrate on what's going on for you now. Make it as good as you can.

Tomorrow is another day... and, take it from me, a billion things can happen before then, making tomorrow very different from what you thought it would be... You might as well be able to look back and remember the happy yesterdays that you did NOT spend worrying about tomorrow.

As hard as it may be for some of us, this is definitely one lesson worth learning.

Whose nose is it then?

Very often when a baby is born into a family people start looking for resemblance to themselves and other family members - a way no doubt of linking this little miracle of life to the rest of the pack...

Of course babies change so quickly and so constantly that it's mission impossible to try to pin them down to someone in particular but themselves - which is just fine! - Nevertheless it is kind of fun to try to read a babe's traits and expressions and trace a feature back to a gran's or an uncle's chin, a grandfather's nose or a parent's eyes or hands or feet...

Yesterday was once of those rare family moments - rare not only 'cause a few of us were in the same country/ city/ room together at the same time, but also because there was a kind of easy "togetherness" where there was no tension nor fuss, just easy going time together. My Mom got out a whole bunch of pics from when sis and I and some of our cousins where tiny and so L, D, Mom and I started looking for similarities between our kids and ourselves as well as out cousins when we were toddlers.

We had a bit of a laugh at our parents' hairdo's and my mother's once-upon-a-time impressive bust. Mom recalled the funky Mothercare changing mat my parents had for me, and exclaimed that she still had the yellow baby blanket I was wrapped in and would get it out for me to use for Emma.
Funny to think we are now the parents and no doubt, if we're lucky, one day we'll be showing our kids their baby pics. Wow!

Anyway, back to family traits: on the left a pic of me and on the right is Emma - both feature my Mum's hands- any resemblance?

Week 32

On Saturday June 9th we had our last Turkish check-up with our local Ob-Gyn.

The latest:
weight (EFW): 2133gr (657gr in the past 3 weeks)
height: 41,32cm (= femur length of 6,22 x 6 + 4)
Estimated Delivery Date (EDD): varies depending on what you measure. Since she's slightly Large for Gestational Age (LGA) - some measurements show her to be up to 34 weeks, give or take a few days - obviously this moves the EDD up.


If only...
I'd be very happy to have her at week 37 when she's technically no longer a preemie (in Switzerland)!
Good news is, her lungs are mature so should she come early no issues there.




Other than the usual ultra-sound, we also had fetal monitoring for the first time.

This involved me lying down with straps around my belly meant to capture bebek's heart beat, a nurse ringing a bicycle bell next to my belly, and me pressing on a what looked like an ignition button every time I felt a kick. Oh, and it also measures uterine contractions should you have any.

Basically, a healthy baby should react to the bicycle bell both by movement and an increased heart rate. Very definitely bebek was responsive - I'm not sure how much she enjoyed the experience, but Doc. was reassured she was well and I got my share of kicks, waves and somersaults.

We leave for Geneva in two weeks and so unless something unpleasant happens before then, the next time we visit our Doc. here, she'll be able to see our bebek without the need of an ultra-sound...
I have to say it's kind of weird having gone through 32 weeks of appointments, ultra-sounds, blood tests, phone calls and talks with her, to suddenly say goodbye before the baby is born. Kind of sad actually...

pregnancy EDD fetal monitor week 32

La di doo di doo dah...

Yay!
Thanks honey... last one with "just the two of us"
Next year we'll have help blowing out the candles....and maybe even cake in our hair which will be a new experience.... ;-)

Week 15 and magic

So we’re into our second trimester, and everything is apparently as it should be.

Funnily enough, the initial moments of “Wow” passed, as well as the occasional feeling of not owning my own body because it’s acting in weird ways it used not to, I feel like a fish in the sea & like being pregnant is the most normal thing in the world.

Which of course it is, but it’s also hugely and totally unfathomable, isn’t it? One of those things you have a hard time getting your head around. Realizing that you are growing another person inside of you and that one day, if all goes well, they will be as "big" and as "old" as you are right now. It’s like you always knew this was going to happen, but at the same time never really believed it. Like growing up when you’re little. (Well at least that’s the way I felt.) One of those things that seems totally unremarkable until you stop to think about it.

And it’s the circle thing… I’m going to be a parent, which means I am going to be what my parents are to me, to someone else. Auuehemerrr… that is weird. That’s scary. That’s well, I’m not too sure about that part.

Of course, I’m going to be my version of parent, mixed with my honey’s version, and with the inescapable twist and shake our lives and experiences will convey to our choices, actions and oversights. As my Dad has said billions of times (in a rather fatalistic, defensive and occasionally apologetic manner) we don’t make the mistakes our parents made, but we make others. I can believe that, although there’s a sometimes a boomerang effect, that brings us right back to where (what?) we were trying to get away from in the first place.

We probably all have a couple of vivid memories of things that we swore we would never do “to” our kids when we grew up and had them… (I made lists: of things to remember –or rather not to forget- of things not to do… A real Peter Pan although I desperately wanted to put childhood behind me and become an adult.) But then there’s perspective, and of course I’ve changed my mind on some of those things, but there are others… Ah well, I guess we’ll do our best. (I think it’s a bit early to go down that road right this minute.)

Anyway, it might be the hormones (I don't mean the replacement therapy ones), but being pregnant is bringing back flashes from my childhood, my teens, my whole life. I’ve always thought we carry with(in) us the 2, 7, 9, 13, 17… year olds we once were – but although these versions of me occasionally voice a point or two, now days they seem to be more vocal than ever, playing the reels of hazy long-ago snippets of my life with people who have played a role in it; Some no longer alive, whom I have not thought of in a while. Others, whose memory is much more vivid and have sometimes been embodied by living people who, it has seemed at times, were encountered and (put?) there for me as stand-ins for those who left too soon.

See? Hormones. You probably think I’m looney tunes by now.

But I do believe in a kind of magic. Maybe it’s destiny, maybe it’s God, maybe it’s the Universe, I don’t think the name matters much –I don’t think I would care if I were misnamed, as long as the concept of me …oh, oh, another one I don’t think I’m going to go down just now – sorry.

Anyway, magic… I think there is magic.
Maybe it’s in my belly, maybe it’s in the air, maybe it’s my hormone-drugged brain… But when you catch a glimpse of it, it makes you feel all warm inside and kind of happy-sad. Kind of like when you want to cry with joy or when I think of my Baba and her bordeaux shawl.

baby becoming a parent pregnant hormonal second trimester week 15

When it gets cold...

It's the time of year when it gets cold and the rain is swishing around on the roads and gathering into enormous grey puddles that splash all over the sidewalks and mingle with the seawater the waves have landed on the shore. But I don't mind, 'cause inside my car, the heating is on and Jamie Cullum's mellow voice sooths the air, my windscreen wipers are on full blast, and I feel warm and safe in a island of mobile warmth and cosiness.

...walking into a warm, heated home, where you can finally remove your shoes, scarf and coat, and your skin swells with pleasure and your muscles relax - it's just an unbeatable feeling, don't you think?

I love being inside under a warm blanket, with my thick, scruffy, pink socks and a cup of tea when it's stormy and pouring with rain.

I love how, no matter the cold and the rain, there is a place you can go, light a fire, turn the heating up and listen to some music. Doesn't take much, but it's enough to make you feel totally protected and isolated from the aggressive cold and wet just meters away. Mmhhh...

Which is why, when it's 15°C inside, the hot water is cold, and the electricity is out - the darn weather wins and you actually feel more exposed than you did minutes ago driving along the wet streets and looking forward to coming home. Doesn't take much but when it's not available, you really miss basic comfort!!!!

Back again

We're back in Izmir, after 10 days in Geneva. So how was it? Being home was, well... a bit unlike being home.

Of course, we we're in Geneva and it was great to see friends and family and just, well, be in a place you know, and have not been in for a few months. Familiarity is sometimes so wonderful.

It was appeasing to understand all that was going on around us; it's as if my brain, having muted all the incomprehensible conversations around me for four months, was suddenly fully "on", bordering on overload, like being solicited from all directions because it could grasp the meaning of every word around me - luckily this did not last long! I loved every minute of being able to fluidly and quickly maneuver through minor traffic and get anywhere in less than 20 minutes, appreciated being serviced with a smile and helpful attitude, enjoyed a delicious week-end pizza at our usual week-end hang out, walked about in the sun on the lake side, basked in the beautiful greens of the fields and trees... Yet, it felt different than when we were living there. My perspective had changed. I observed people in the streets, new cafés and shops, and noticed things I hadn't paid attention to before. I had not participated in Geneva's life for four months, but it felt like I had been away for at least a year.

It was not exactly like being home 'cause after a day rushing around seeing friends and family, we didn't have our home to go back to, not our car/scooter, nor our noisy neighbor Jean to mumble about. (I do not miss his yelling against his kids, but still, it was part of our life during our last months in Vandoeuvres). I'm not complaining. It was wonderful to stay with A. and her hospitality and kindness were absolutely first-rate. Wonderful to have dinner with the girls, and I enjoyed every lunch, coffee, dinner, and walk... but it was weird being home and yet feeling that home was no longer truly there.

Izmir from the plane

I guess, this is actually a good thing; while we don't yet feel 100% at home here, arriving at the airport and driving back, certainly felt less foreign. I even had a few people to call this time and some who called me. It was nice to pick up Balou in great shape and find our home with all our things in it, spotlessly clean, as Hamide, our wonder-cleaning lady had come by. I actually enjoyed doing a big food shop and filling our fridge knowing that there are a few added ingredients and spices I brought back with me, which will make for enjoyable more-like-home meals. My mind filled with fresh Geneva sights and impressions and finding Izmir practically as green as Geneva, now that the sun is less scorching hot, was a rewarding reminder that home is where you make it.