nurse

i don’t usually like the word “perfect”.  but when it comes to my pregnancy, i’ve never been happier to hear it.

i just started my 28th week and i had my monthly visit with my obstetrician. she always assures me that i’m doing great. my weight gain is ideal and the baby’s growth is on schedule. i tell her my concerns, which are usually nothing to worry about. she always says, “don’t worry. you’re doing great! perfect!” without problematizing my tiny worries. i walk out the door encouraged. i think i’m doing the best i can, but i can’t really see what’s happening in my womb, so i need some reassurance from a professional. when she says “perfect”, i really believe her.

after my visit with the obstetrician, i had a public nurse over to my apartment. she asked about my personal and medical history and about my pregnant life. she was trying to find out what needs i have, so she could connect me with community services applicable to my needs. but i didn’t have anything i needed support with, so we had a nice chat for an hour and a half or so. the best moment was when she asked me if i was happy when i found out about my pregnancy. i guess i expressed maximum happiness with my words and my face. she wrote “extremely happy” on her chart. she said that the criteria of “happy” was not enough to describe how happy i was, so she exceptionally noted it.

the 24th to 27th weeks were a dramatic ride for me. around my 24th week, my belly started to get really big really fast. i could see it getting bigger every day. i felt a little bit overwhelmed. as i looked at my belly, it became obvious there is a life growing inside. it sounds like an absurd realization, but it felt so real. there was no doubt about how happy i was that poko-chan was growing, but it felt like my baby was going forward and my mind was making a late start. i really hoped that i was doing good for this new life. when i got too serious about it, poko-chan rolled around. it felt so ticklish that it made me laugh.

luckily the overwhelmed feeling lasted only a couple days at the beginning of my 24th week. after that, i just stopped worrying about it. i just have to do the best i can.

poko-chan is doing awesome. it’s getting bigger and it’s incredibly active. it not only kicks hard, it vibrates. i’m guessing it’s hiccuping — it’s definitely different from kicking. these days, i can clearly see a bulge whenever poko-chan kicks my belly. if i’m reading a book or holding the newspaper against my belly, it knocks it off by kicking. poko-chan especially likes to start kicking when i’m listening to music or eating. i think that means it’s happy.

so far the rule is, if i like it and poko-chan kicks, then poko-chan likes it. if i don’t like it, and poko-chan kicks, then poko-chan doesn’t like it either. this works really well, because we’re always agreeing with each other. :)

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…was an owl.

it’s an owl photo on a paper holder. it looked awfully wrong, but good that i had to have it. the holder had a magnet on the back so it was on my fridge door for awhile. what on earth the eerie owl is on a paper holder is a mystery.

(click the image to view close up)

postcard of this photo is available in my online SHOP.

(click the image to view close up)

“every object has a soul. they can’t talk but they can feel. if you speak to them wordlessly, they understand.”

that’s what my grandmother used to tell me.

these dolls don’t talk. they don’t change expressions. their faces are fixed, artificial. but by varying their positions - angles and spaces, distance and depth - their feelings come to surface. the eyes start to talk. they express emotion, just for a moment.

and i wait for that moment, when i can catch what they’re trying to say. their silent language is like any other: full of everyday trivialities that conceal darker, complex truths. because they lack the protection of words, they are both more eloquent and more defenceless than we are - they reveal everything. their faces never change, so their moods are unmistakeable. and the spaces they leave between themselves are full of tension, and possibility.

voiceless; therefore powerful. silence is a weapon.

postcards of this photo are available in my online SHOP.

きょうも　わたしと　おどって

(click the image to view close up)

i counted. i have 36 of the same plastic doctor dolls. they’re each about 30cm tall, and their heads come off. they’re incredibly handsome. some people ask me if they are barbie’s boyfriend, ken. actually, they’re emergency doctor dolls that i found at a fancy $1 store in kingston, the one with the big red sign (now closed, says my insider information).

the doctor dolls came in plastic packages. they were nonchalantly hanging from the shelf. i instantly fell in love with them. so i bought three doctor dolls as well as two nurse dolls (like this one). when i got home, i regretted not buying more. i thought they’d all be sold by the next day, since i was worried everyone might find them attractive. at the dollar store, once it’s gone, it’s gone.

so i went back right after work. there were still 5 dolls left! that still wasn’t enough, so i asked the clerk to look in the back. she found a whole box. i bought them all.

on the way home, i ran into an acquaintance, a medical student. i was carrying a big plastic bag full of those doctor dolls and i had to try to have a normal conversation with him. “how was school?”, etc. i tried not to draw attention to the dolls, but it was impossible — the bag was too big. he asked me, “what’s in the bag?” i told him, “these are the doctor dolls i bought at the dollar store. they were so handsome i had to buy them all.” he said, “that’s great”, but he was smiling nervously.