The First Snowfall - I am blessed!

As I sit here in our heavily decorated living room, I find it difficult to imagine what Christmas preparations and celebrations will be like next holiday season with a baby at the centre of it all!  Sidebar:  I should also point out that I sit here snugly wrapped in my Snoogle (a genius invention that others may know of as a body pillow designed specifically for pregnant women)!  Best.early.birthday.present.ever.

My 3 current faves: Snoogle, cozy CB throw & hot apple chai!

And I feel especially reflective this morning as I look out at our first snowfall of the 2012-13 winter season here on Cape Breton and think back over the last 4 Christmases.  I can hardly believe how my life - and my locations - have changed.  I've lived in Goderich, ON - in Winnipeg, MB - and now Glace Bay, NS.  I've resided in my family home, a condo, and now my own house.  I've been a planner, a student / cadet, and am now an officer.  I've been single, married, and now pregnant...

Our first snowfall has arrived...  YEAH!

It was only 4 years ago when I became a senior soldier in The Salvation Army that my life really began to change.  And it has just caused me to pause - to take a breath this morning as the sky has gone from to dark to light (with Josh at the gym, I have a quiet moment to do that:)...  I am blessed.

In the busyness of this Christmas season, I will confess to you I have had moments of feeling overwhelmed, and I'll admit, being a bit melancholy.  To be thousands of kilometres from family and friends as I experience this journey of pregnancy and upcoming motherhood without being surrounded by those I love is sometimes tough, combined with extremely long days, difficulty sleeping, blah, blah, blah.

Whine over.  Because it is then, in those low moments, that the baby gives me a significant 'hoof' (far more than a kick) reminding me of the miracle of life growing inside me.  Or Josh shows up with yet another Christmas surprise (how the man can find ways to surprise me when we share a vehicle and work together is beyond me)!  Or, we receive a note of encouragement from someone to say thanks for our hard work in the community.  God seems to give me these subtle - and not so gentle - reminders that He is here with me, that life is actually pretty wonderful in all of its messiness and chaos and disorder.

Within the imperfection of your own life - as I will hazard a guess I am not alone in that - can you find blessing this Christmas?  My prayer this morning is that you experience the fullness of His joy this holiday season!

Christmas at the Downers!

Shop until you drop....

For those of you who knew me in my previous employment, you will know that I was a bit of a clothes horse.  My weakness: Coats...  Shoes....  Purses...  Most accessories.  Okay, I really loved *all* items of clothing.  Thankfully, something changed in me when I became a Salvation Army soldier, and though I still appreciate clothing, my passionate love did diminish, and the majority of my wardrobe now consists of very functional uniform items.

Though I always enjoyed new clothes, interestingly, I was never a big shopper.  I was never one of those girls who enjoyed hours at the mall, or just went from store to store to kill time.  The desire for shopping became even less prominent when the justification for new clothes - and my budget - didn't allow for it.  So I can tell you that with pregnancy, my interest in shopping has been even further diminished...

For any boy blog followers who get awkward at the discussion of changes to a woman's pregnant body, might I suggest you stop reading ... now.

So, Cape Breton is a beautiful island, but I wouldn't say it is known for being the hub of shopping activity.  Don't get me wrong, to date, I have lacked nothing (except the occasional treat from Starbucks).  Everything I have needed, I can find.  Until now...  You see, pregnancy means that 'certain parts' of your body grow...  Resulting in the need for some new basic wardrobe items.

With my mother-in-law visiting, her and I decided to brave the mall in search of a few necessities.  I was shocked to discover after visiting every single clothing store in the mall, including a number of anchor department stores, we found ourselves empty handed and discouraged.  Not a single maternity item to be found...  I can't seriously be the only pregnant woman on the island who needs  something to wear!?!?!

We eventually found ourselves pulling into Wal-Mart, which apparently houses the sole maternity section in the area.  And I use the term "section" fairly loosely since it consisted of literally 2 small racks of clothing: one, included a sweater Josh had already bought for me, and the other, panty hose for pregnant ladies (which I must confess hadn't entered my mind until that very moment, but is PURE GENIUS!).

Actually NOT a maternity shirt, but an old faithful of mine that someone once told me I looked pregnant in when I wore it!!!

This particular excursion did nothing for my dislike of shopping (nothing against the company I should clarify)!  But it did make me MOST grateful to my sister-in-law who does have a love of shopping and who generously shared her entire maternity wardrobe from two pregnancies with me.  The best of every world for me - it feels like a new wardrobe every time I open my closet, without the hassle of shopping, and for a budget price of,... $0!

FYI - I will post an update of me in my maternity uniform when it arrives, 'cos not gonna lie folks, the old tunic is getting "pretty snug":).

Surprise!

So,... there have been some surprises as I continue to make my way through this pregnancy (which I know is no surprise to many of you)!  Warning to Readers: if you are expecting a BIG surprise like an announcement of twins or something, I suggest you stop reading here - because you will be disappointed friends!?!?!

Stamina & Endurance:  Let me set the scene for you.  On our day off last week - where we were surprisingly experiencing some sunshine - Josh and I took someone's advice to check out a scenic view of lovely Cape Breton, and decided to go for a short, little hike up Ben Eion (a mere 2.5km loop).  Now, in fairness, it is pretty much straight up for the first 1.25km, but still...  I am not lying to you when I tell you that it was one of the poorest showings I have EVER had when it comes to physical activity.  Barely 300 feet up and I felt my lungs burning, every breath felt like searing pain, and I was sure my heart was going to pound its way out right through my rib cage.

So, even though I realized it was probably time for a short break, I was embarrassed to admit to Josh that I needed to stop.  A far cry from our pre-dating runs together!  I kept saying to Josh, "I think something is wrong with me," and he'd respond, "nothing is *wrong* with you Joyce, you're pregnant!!!"  Well, I am happy to report we did survive the walk, and thanks to an Orange Julius gift card from a friend, we also celebrated my 'success' with a mango madness smoothie:).

I also felt somewhat relieved when reading my info pack from the Health Unit later that day which informed me at this point in my pregnancy, my heart is pumping approximately 20% more blood than usual.  THERE IT IS!  The explanation, aka excuse, I was looking for.

Heartburn: not so much a surprise, but for some odd reason I had decided I wasn't going to have heartburn (for no good or logical reason I might add).  I guess because everyone told me once the 'morning sickness' - I use that term loosely - ends, then comes the heartburn.  I sort of assumed since the sickness has yet to end, the heartburn wouldn't happen.  Wrong assumption.  A strange sensation for a person who formerly had a stomach of steel that could handle just about anything!

Attention: There is no other way to say it.  I am not a person who typically enjoys attention.  I enjoy interaction with people, but too much attention on me makes me self-conscious and uncomfortable.  And yet, there is something special about knowing how much this baby is already loved so much by the people around me; the way my church family is so concerned about how I am feeling; and, how everyone is checking in to make sure that I am taking care of "their little Cape Bretoner"!  It is quite endearing:).  Don't get me wrong, I still don't need the attention, but there can be no doubt that this child is already very loved, and that is a-ok by this gal!


Mushy moment:  Thanks to all who have checked in recently - sickness aside, all is well.  And I'm looking forward to many, many more surprises in the future!

The New Journey of Pregnancy

This "Joyce's Journey" blog began two summers ago when I spent my summer assignment in Gander, NL.  The beginning of my journey as an officer, a married woman and a Cape Bretoner went relatively unrecorded as I seemed too occupied actually figuring out what all of that meant...

But I realize as I enter into this newest journey of momma-to-be, as a pregnant lady, that I may regret not taking note of some of the surprises and excitement that come along with being a human incubator.  So - here I am - 15 weeks in, ready to share with you some of the "joys" of carrying a growing baby in my womb!

Milk.  Nope, a bit premature to be speaking of breast milk at this stage of the game (and potentially awkward), but relax friends, I am talking about cow's milk!  A number of years ago I gave up cow's milk and all related products entirely, and for a number of years since, heavily minimized my dairy intake.  I tell people I've experienced no cravings, but the truth is, I'm a changed woman when it comes to milk. All of a sudden, I can't get enough of the stuff!  I want cereal, I drink ice, cold glasses of it - well, I should clarify, I haven't turned around THAT much, I stick with the chocolate variety.  I crave cheese & crackers - nothing fancy here, straight up saltines (minus the salt) and cheddar.  It has been an interesting turn of events for someone who until recently couldn't stomach the thought of it.

Ice cold.  I cannot describe to you the new emphasis I place on ICE.  I go through trays of it a day.  Pretty much every drink I get requires a refilling of the ice cube tray, and a cloth to wipe up the water spilled while carrying the tray to the freezer (noper, the clumsiness is not something that I have lost sadly).  The icey cold drink seems to be the only thing that satisfies my thirst, except for the times it makes me sick.  But that doesn't stop me friends, because the truth is, *everything* makes me sick.

Puke.  Yep, I said it.  I used the faux pas, unattractive, perhaps even slightly vulgar sounding word.  But when you've thrown up as much as I have in the last 90 days, I figure I've earned the right to say it.  This is not to scare those of you potential parents, because apparently a large number of expectant women do not experience this particular symptom.  I, however, am NOT one of those women!  I am grateful to know that this doesn't mean something is wrong with me (thanks Mum & sis for putting my mind at ease that this is 'normal' for us)...  But let me tell you, life got a *whole* lot easier when the word of my pregnancy was out and I didn't have to try and explain my countless washroom trips.

Weight Gain.  Something I have yet to explain away due to pregnancy, though many have "graciously" told me that they knew I was pregnant because of my weight gain.  I can assure you friends, that - to date - not a single pound has been added to the scale because of my pregnancy.  Weight redistribution - absolutely.  Did my body know that I would not be able to keep food down for two months after learning of my pregnancy?  Absolutely.  So I am grateful for those cushion pounds that were gained in ADVANCE of my pregnancy (*extra* big thanks to the Allure of the Seas cruise & Northern Ireland for that particular privilege)!!!

Rollercoaster.  Of the emotional variety.  Yep, I am textbook hormonal.  I officially cry at the  most ridiculous and mundane things.  The other day, I accidentally whacked Josh smack across the face with my elbow.  I often respond to these situations with awkward laughter when I feel really badly or see someone get hurt.  What made this extra interesting was when my laughter turned to hysterical crying because I was so sorry I had hurt him.  I knew my reaction was perhaps excessive by the expression on Josh's face - the poor guy was pretty confident he shouldn't make fun of me in that moment, but wasn't entirely sure how to react to my complete switch from laughter to full-out, inconsolable weeping.  Good times.

But all things considered, it is good times.  Life will soon forever be changed people keep telling me, but my life has rarely had any 'sameness' to it anyway...  And, like with most change, I recognize there is only so much I can do to prepare for it.  So in the meantime, I am eagerly expectant - looking forward to this continuation of the journey of my life, and the beginning of the miracle of new life!!!

A Tribute to Joyce "Sr." - My Granny

With almost a year since my last post, it seemed to require my grandmother's passing to inspire a revival of the "Journey of Joyce" blog.

Yes, this blog post is in honour of Joyce Wilson.  I was her namesake, she - my paternal grandmother.  "Granny" as we Wilson kids affectionately called her.  Granny - a widow of almost 30 years who until the last half decade or so remained fiercely independent, living alone in her lovely rural cottage of 'Ashley'.  It was only when the ugly disease of Alzheimer's took a grip over her that she lost some of that independence. Particularly cruel when my Gran could previously recall - and grill you - on specific details from a trans-Atlantic telephone conversation held 6 months earlier.

Her best friend, pseudo-sister & sister-in-law, Florence.  

Though she spent most of her adult life in Britain, Granny was proudly born a Canadian, and she enjoyed adventure on the oil fields of Trinidad in her younger years.  Joyce lived an exciting life, a far cry from her final decades spent in a small village where her property backed onto rolling hills and sheep pasture.  A time in her quiet and peaceful later years where adventure amounted to a trip to the 'Horse & Jockey' a hundred yards up the road, or into Wem for the weekly groceries, mass, or to have her hair set.

The backyard view from 'Ashley'

So as a tweenager full of attitude, I must confess to you that the summer my sis and I spent in the U.K., we would have to break up our time at 'Ashley' for the bright lights and action of the big city of B'ham!  But with some distance of miles (i.e., thousands) and time (i.e., two decades) - I look back increasingly fondly on the bond that was formed with 'our Gran' during that summer and those genteel times that we shared.

Take the weekly grocery shop - a 3+ hour affair where shoppers and staff alike would make way for the woman who would hand-pick one-by-one each potato to ensure the perfect roast potato for Sunday dinner.  For those of you who have tasted my roasties, they pale in comparison to Gran's!  In fact, Gran's Sunday dinners were - and I will dare to suggest will forever remain - unparalleled, with preparation beginning before dawn (we would go to Saturday night mass so Sunday morning could be left open for intense cooking).  She taught me much about the art of cooking and baking... tips and skills I still use today.  

No Granny-quality meal, but we did our best:).

And oh,... her lemon cake,...  Every ingredient measured to the 1/2 teaspoon, with a ruler never far away to ensure precisely equal pieces.  Speaking of measuring, grocery store trips had my Gran arriving with supplies in hand, including empty pop bottles marked with permanent marker showing the level where they had been filled to.  Why you might ask?  OF COURSE to ensure we weren't being 'taken' between purchases with a lesser amount of liquid in the bottle.


Sunday dinners promised an afternoon walk around Colemere Lake, (where Louise and I would giggle like little girls as Granny apologized for her 'broccoli toots'), and also when we could anxiously anticipate deliciously creative meals made from leftovers on Monday night.  Don't get me wrong, Gran amounted to much more than her impeccable cooking abilities, but her character, her love for things being done well and properly, and her love for family was often demonstrated in this tangible way.  

One of my last visits to 'Ashley' with the  infamous driveway gravel.

Though in her later years it was difficult to see Granny's sharp mind in decline, it did offer us opportunity to experience her softer side.  To see her gush & giggle at the sight or mention of a baby.  The arrival of her first great-grandchild, my niece, gave her unparalleled joy - and I remember her being in awe of Becs picking up one piece of gravel at a time off of Ashley's driveway and dropping it onto the lawn.  She would smile from the window as she watched us build daisy chain crowns in the garden. 

It is these memories that flood to mind as I grieve the loss of my Granny and as I celebrate a wonderful life lived.  And while I am thankful for these memories, I am more thankful of God's promise that Joyce - my Gran - is in her eternal home with her Maker and her Saviour.  Of the promise that I, too, will one day join her in my Heavenly home.  Are you confident this day of the promise of your eternal home?

Joyce (Sr.) and Joyce (Jr.) - My Gran

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going” (John 14:1-4).