The Friday before I left, (January 26th), we heard from my family that my very pregnant sister-in-law Karen was going into the hospital to have her labour induced. At this point she was already a few days past due, and she had spoken to her doctor to say that she really wanted to have the baby before I left, which was really wonderful for me. And so I was hoping to arrive in Toronto to meet my first niece or nephew. I had left specific instructions with my brother to call me no matter what time, day or night, to let me know how things were going. On Saturday morning when Jeremi and I got up at 4:30 to go to the airport we still hadn't heard anything, so I was figuring that she'd already been in labour for more than 12 hours by the time I left Victoria. Naturally I was hoping that everything was going well, and I was too nervous to sleep during the flight. As soon as I landed I called my parents to see what was going on, and my dad and I had the following conversation:
my dad: Hello?
me: Hey Dad, so what's the news?
my dad: The news? Are you at the airport? Isn't Casey (my friend) there to pick you up?
me: I haven't even gotten my bags yet. I mean Karen and the baby. Is everything okay?
my dad: Oh yes, your nephew, Owen Christopher Marshall, was born this morning just after five.
me: After five? But I was still in Victoria then. WHY DIDN'T ANYONE CALL?!?
my dad: Here, let me give you to your mother.
I was incredibly angry. Apparently they decided not to call since they didn't want to wake me, knowing that I had an early flight in the morning. I have since informed my mother that I'll let her know within at least a few months when I have my first child. And now back to the story.
Here is a picture of Chris and Karen and little Owen, soon after he was born.
Just a day or two before I left I emailed my friend Casey, from Belleville, to see if maybe he was still around the area and if he wanted to come visit my parents while I was there. It turns out that he's been living in Toronto since October, so we arranged to have him and his girlfriend pick me up at the airport and then head up to Newmarket. We didn't actually mention where I should meet him, so he was outside and I was inside (looking at the cars but not knowing what he drove, and not wanting to walk around too much with my big bags). I was very impatient to get to see Owen, but we had to go back into town to pick up his girlfriend who apparently had stayed home to tidy their apartment after a party the night before. I was really anxious to go, and thinking that by now I could have taken a cab so that she could do her dishes and I could meet my nephew. I was really not in the best mood.
Finally, after a long and sleety drive, we made it to Newmarket. My mom had prepared all sorts of food for us, and by chance her cousin and her husband from Northern Ontario were there as well, as they had stopped by to say hello while on their way home. We had a great meal, and then Casey and Joanna had to head back into the city for a birthday party. It was now around 7:00 pm, and mom told me that visiting hours closed at 8:00, and I'd have to wait until tomorrow to meet Owen, since visiting it would take a while to get down to Mount Sinai, the hospital where they were staying. My mood was not getting better.
As my mom and I were sitting around that evening, me working on the teddy bear that I was knitting for Owen, we heard Elvis, my parents dog, growl quite aggressively in their kitchen. He was in there with Baba, my 87-year-old grandmother, who, as usual, was cleaning the snow off his paws after he'd come inside. My parents got Elvis from the pound, and he'd been abused by his previous owners, and hit by a car. He's much better socialized than when they first got him when he was 18 months old (eg. he wasn't properly toilet trained), but he still gets upset when someone tries to take away any of his toys. Not the usual sort of tug-of-war play-upset, but really upset. He'd bitten my brother once before, over a year ago, but there was another dog involved, and my parents' dog trainer thought he wasn't generally an agressive dog. I would still say he isn't, he's just not right. He's also had a couple of seizures, so my mom wonders if perhaps he actually has some damage to his brain. (He's damn smart though.)
Anyhow, he bit Baba, and this bite was quite bad. And Baba's on blood thinners, so there was a lot of blood. So my parents, Baba, and I all ended up driving to the Emergency at 11:30 at night in the middle of a snow storm. We were only at the hospital for an hour or so, and they got her all patched up quite well, but the wound was quite bad. They decided they had to bring him back to the pound, especially with a baby coming to the house soon. It was really an awful night. My poor grandmother felt guilty (which she shouldn't have), and no one could bear to look at the dog when we got home.
Okay, enough upsetting stories. The next day was much better. We headed down to the hospital in the morning after a lovely breakfast, and Baba and I got to meet Owen for the first time. Chris and Karen were doing really well, and they were able to go home that night. As for me, that afternoon/evening, my mom had invited a number of our relatives in the area - we had my Aunt Joan and Uncle Bernie from Kitchener-Waterloo along with my cousin Vanessa and her boyfriend Joey, my cousin Jenn and her boyfriend Tim up from Toronto, and Gloria as well. My mom and Baba had prepared a feast, with enough left over to send a few meals by Chris and Karen's place when they got home. That night after everyone left I went over to my brother's place to give Owen his teddy bear, which was now finished. Here you can see my brother drinking the Dad's root beer I sent him for Christmas with the bear on his lap, and below is Owen with the bear.
The next day, on Monday, after yet another fabulous breakfast, I drove down to the neighbourhood around the Science Centre to meet up with my friend Dave, who went to school with me at the Ontario Science Centre 10 years ago, and one of our former teachers, Paul, who is working there again while getting his PhD in Education from York. It was good to see them both, and amazing how little changes in 10 years. Though it did make me feel rather old. Paul pointed out that Dave is now 29, the same age Paul was when he started teaching us. (Of course I just turned 27, so this shouldn't make me feel so old, right?)Then I went back up to Newmarket to see Melanie and Ruth Ann, who were visiting with their beautiful boy Ezra, who was born back in December. While they were there I seamed up a little sweater that I knit for him and sewed on the buttons. Always at the last minute, I know. You can see pictures of him wearing it on their blog here, though you have to go right down to the bottom of the page. There is probably a better way of linking to this, but I am not so blog-savvy. I was really glad to get to see them before I left, and they gave me the wonderful gifts of a toque for Jeremi (which I promptly seconded), a lovely Fleece Artist kit for thrummed socks (which I'll get to as soon as all my needles arrive with the shipped goods), and a request for Jeremi and I to act as god-people for Ezra. I couldn't be more honoured, though I did mention that I'm not quite comfortable stating publicly that I'd "raise this child in Christ". I'll certainly supply him with love and hand-knits, and Euro-cool baby toys and clothes from Germany. Here's a picture of Ruth Ann and Ezra whilst he was being changed.
Finally it was Tuesday, and I had to go the airport to head on my way to Europe. In the morning we stopped by Chris and Karen's to see them and Owen, as it might be the last time for a little while. They let me hold him almost the whole time, and it was hard to give him back. Here's a picture of the two of us, with him wearing a lovely toque that Melanie and Ruth Ann made for him. (Melanie knit it, and Ruth Ann wove in the tails. What a great team!)
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