My Wife, Biggie Smalls

As of this week Thao is beginning her seventh month of pregnancy – which is another way of saying she’s six months pregnant, or 24 weeks pregnant, or 16 more weeks to go, or however you want to look at it.

Everything is continuing to go well.  She feels fine.  The baby continues to move – every day we are able to feel him/her moving around in there.  It’s cool.  At night before bed we read to the baby – or really we read to Thao’s big belly.  Our doctor told us that the baby can hear sounds now, and that it’s good for the baby’s brain development to read, so we’re trying to give it plenty of material to work with.

Right now we’re reading a baby book called Richard Scarry’s Best Word Book Ever that my mom gave us when I was home in June.  It’s a book I had when I was little, and I actually remember some of the pictures in it.

I read it in English and then Thao translates it into Vietnamese, so we’re pushing bilingualism on this kid before it even exits the womb.  Not that speaking English and Vietnamese are going to be a problem for it.

Anyway, after four or so months of very little weight gain, Thao has finally started to put on her baby weight.  She’s gained about 10 kilograms, which is about 22 pounds, so far.  And four months to go!

Most of it is clearly in her stomach, but her face, arms, legs, etc., are all starting to be a little rounder as well.  Her feet are fatter and she can no longer put on the New Balance running shoes she usually wears when we go for a walk, etc.

Yesterday (Sunday) morning we somehow started talking about how even her fingers were getting fatter, and I asked her if she could still take her engagement and wedding rings off.  I don’t think she’d really thought about it up to that point either, because when she tried to take them off, she couldn’t.  

We tried to get the off together – we used soap and water to try to make her finger more slippery and, when that didn’t work, olive oil.  We met some friends for lunch Sunday, then went to the jewelry store where we’d bought our wedding rings to see if they had any ideas.

They tried basically the same thing we’d been trying to do – but they used lotion instead of soap and water or olive oil.  At first it didn’t look like the wedding ring (which Thao wears on the outside) was going to come off.  It just didn’t look like Thao’s sausage finger would make it through that hole.  But there was one very tenacious Vietnamese woman working at the jewelry store, and she kept pulling on the ring and kneading Thao’s finger, and finally, somehow, she got the ring off.

The engagement ring is slightly bigger than the wedding ring, so once the wedding ring was off, the engagement ring came off fairly easily.  I took Thao’s wedding ring and put it in a zippered compartment in my wallet, and told her to give me the engagement ring too, but she said she’d keep wearing the engagement ring until we got back home.  Bad idea.

Last night she tried to take the engagement ring off and couldn’t.  We tried again together with some lotion – same result.  That thing wasn’t budging.  We though her finger might be less swollen in the morning, so we decided to try again then.

Sadly, this morning Thao’s finger was as puffy as ever, and again the engagement ring would not come off.  I tried to help her get it off again for about five minutes, but it was hurting her finger so she said she’d just go back to the jewelry store on her lunch break today to see if they could get it off.  I said “great” and rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but I could feel the bed moving as Thao continued to wrestle with the damn ring.  Finally, after five or ten more minutes, I heard her sigh with relief and she said she’d finally worked it off.

I wasn’t really worried about it.  I figured worst-case scenario the jewelry store could just cut the ring in half to get it off.  And I didn’t care at all about cutting the wedding ring.  I was a little more concerned about cutting the engagement ring because it was my paternal grandmother’s engagement ring and it happened to be the right size for Thao as it was – we didn’t have to have it resized at all.  So I didn’t want to cut that one if at all possible, and Thao really didn’t want to have to cut either one.

Anyway, they’re off now, and will remain off until at least sometime in January 2011, I figure.  I told Thao I was going to keep an extra sharp eye on her now that she wasn’t going to be wearing her engagement and wedding rings, and she said “Yeah, because so many men are out there looking for six-month pregnant women!”  Point taken.

 

Read This!

 

[Link:  http://www.inspirationandchai.com/Regrets-of-the-Dying.html]

For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives.

People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learnt never to underestimate someone's capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.

When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

 

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

It is very important to try and honour at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.

 

2. I wish I didn't work so hard.

This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.

 

3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.

Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.

We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

 

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

 

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice.  They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called 'comfort' of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.

When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.

 

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.

Something I’ve learned.

Over the last six weeks I’ve been working out a ton.  The past 8 days have been fairly representative of the past 6 weeks:

Over the last eight days I’ve worked out 562 minutes (9.3 hours) and burned a total of 4,602 calories.

And here’s what I’ve learned:  As one nears 40, it is far, far better to have never gotten fat in the first place than to have gotten fat and to be trying to lose it.  I’ve got this stubborn ring of fat around my midsection that I just can’t shake.  Today I’d had enough and broke out my situps bench.  I hate situps about as much as anything, so you know I’m serious when I break the bench out.