(This seemed a tad long to post in the comments of The Silent Victim.)

The snowplough guy eventually showed up, just to clean out the snow barrier left by the city plough, but still… gotta give the man some credit. We’ve had three of four jumps of electricity in the day. It’s still howling outside this evening, the wind’s strong enough to push people sideways. Supposedly the same tomorrow.

I’m not really mad at the weather now: we have a safe and cozy house – there are people who live in far worst – and nature is certainly creating an interesting atmosphere tonight. We usually forget the environment around us; tonight the sound of the wind is ecstasy for the imagination.

Ushered to Serendipity
Also, serendipity crossed my path today. I scarcely ever attend a concert – with the exception of some of our good friend Éric’s hommages – and when I do it is usually in the summer, at city-sponsered outdoors events. I’m also notably unaware of upcoming events around here. AND I’m not usually downtown during the day. I had an appointment at the bank this afternoon and chanced to notice one of my favourite composer/singer, David Usher, is in town on Thursday (and apparently has a new album out!). I’m thinking I might go, if I can find someone to come (Frank won’t, but said he’d babysit). I saw him before in summer 2005 at the Canada day show, and it was a great night.

The new album seems nice from the samples on his site, although I don’t think I’ll like it as much as “If God had curves”. For one, the lyrics seem less intuitive than what he used to do, which was what I liked so much about his songs. Themes changed, too, but evolution is a strong point of his career. For those who don’t know him, he was the lead singer of the Canadian band Moist, back in the 90’s. He’s lived in a couple different countries, and he’s settled in NY now, but his label is still a Canadian one, so I think that allows us to claim he’s a Canadian musician. Oh, and – you know, totally irrelevantly – he’s mighty cute. I can’t wait to hear the rest of the album. I’m taking my leave with some lyrics from “Brilliant” that stood out for me. Good night!

“but i’m older now got a little girl of my own
and her fears are my fears now”
David Usher – “Brilliant”, Strange Birds, 2007

The weighty sound of the wind is rippling like the waves of an ocean, pushing at the roof and the walls of our shaking house, while water-lashed windows show the wind outside, in the form of horizontal streaks of white. It’s raining bits of ice. The snow-plough guy hasn’t even showed up; probably his contract is up by now, and he’s just as sick of winter as we are now.

I’m thinking “what did we do to **** *** Mother Nature so?”. Then I think “Oh yeah. There’s that.” and I sit still, listening to the healthy rage outside of a world crumbling under the weight of us all.

Extraordinary Breastfeeding
I wonder would it be the same if she had sons instead of daughters?
(Sorry I couldn’t post the video directly.) Thank you Marie-Claude for the link.

Changed my homepage’s look – no, this isn’t my homepage – added a blogroll and a links page. If I know you and you’re not on my blogroll, I invite you to send me the link to your site; I’d love to get your RSS. (*Snickers* Talk about a proposition in the information age…) My email addy is any word followed by @emilieonline.com . (If you really can’t use your imagination, you can go with simply “emilie”.)

In other news, the “pictures of Xavier” trend has now spread to another blog. lol!

Happy Easter from all of us!

Additionnally, Xavier did this morning, so we quickly lowered down his mattress. He’s really starting the climbing thing. It’s a lot of sport for mom, actually. *Sigh* And a lot of boohoos for baby.

Still, we love our little explorer a lot, and we’re mighty proud.

- Émilie, shamelessly covering the walls of the web with pictures of her offspring.

I don’t usually watch reruns, but yesterday was a repeat of E.R.’s season opener “Bloodline” – you know the one after the shooting where Abby goes through that nightmarish labour – and I couldn’t resist. Although Xavier’s delivery was nowhere near as scary as what happens in the show, it brought back some memories of pregnancy, and my thoughts wandered around labour, birth and adoption. The following will sound disjointed, but musings are by definition, and it all orbits in the same direction, so bear with me.

When I was much younger, I used to think I’d love to adopt a little Asian girl, always thought they were so cute and couldn’t wrap my head around the thought of a relationship with a boy who would be the father anyway. Later on, I imagined adoption sounded much less scary than labour and delivery.

I’ve said before that even after 9 months of carrying a child, the baby that comes out is still very much a stranger – like you loose the little creature that was inside you, and meet a very different being. Maybe that perception changes during a second pregnancy, knowing what is to come, but I can’t say yet.

Some say labour is the worst pain one can experience, but our body is made to forget. My doctor has, to my opinion, an explanation maybe closer to reality: we don’t forget, but the good memories emerging from that time easily drown the bad ones, contrary to, let’s say, passing kidney stones, where there’s nothing really nice to remember as a counterbalance.

All that said – and not wanting to take away anything from people who did choose adoption, I think it is a wonderful alternative for those who don’t have the option of a pregnancy – I still feel I would have missed a vital part of what is my son without his delivery and his first months. A vital part of being a woman, too. We worked together, he and I, through sweat and blood, to bring him into this world, and I’ve witnessed his life from the very start. It now feels like I couldn’t consider adoption anymore, there would be too much missing. I hope I’m wrong and/or that the people who adopt can find a balance despite all this. I’m sure there are forms of compensation and would be intrigued to experience the differences, though I doubt I shall ever do.

Looking back, I want to keep my memories just as they are, pain and all. These were the thoughts going through my mind as I watched all the blood-spewing beeper-sounding medical-equipment-brandishing that is E.R., and that jaw-clenching delivery. I had my heart in my throat watching Lucas in his last scene, in that moment alone, his brave face shown undone through the mirror he’d just broken. Stupid TV.