Wishing Lanterns

Its been a nice quiet holiday for us, probably for the best considering both of the babies and myself are fairly sick right now. The town actually asked people to stay home on New Years eve and the pastor conducted his service over the radio, to stop the spread of illness'.

Something else mentioned on local radio was our lanterns.

Katie's smiley lantern, filling up with hot air

I ordered wishing lanterns from China, not knowing if the extreme cold would allow them to heat up enough to fly. Lucky for us, once lit indoors, our beautiful lanterns floated somewhat gracefully into the wind, high above the town.

The night was a little bit of a shock for me here, as I have never celebrated in a town so small. There were no fire works at all, but when midnight hit, I heard them. I walked out the door behind Katie and jokingly said, "it sounds like we're being shot at." She laughed. We may not have been getting shot at, but the hundreds of fire-work-like bangs, were in fact gun shots. Interesting, and mildly dangerous way to ring in the new year, but thrilling nonetheless.

When Katie mentioned our lanterns at work yesterday, her co-worker Pasha responded with, "Oh, that was you guys? People were talking about those on the local radio." When Katie passed along the comment, I was delighted. I'm glad there were other people who got to share in the beauty of our new years wishes. We sent out three that night, one early, with two crying babies, and one for each of us at midnight.

Though we both missed the traditions of our home towns, I think we may have created a new one.

Christmas in Qikiqtarjuaq

My laptop met it's last days a month ago. I waited for Katie to open the laptop that Santa brought her for Christmas so that I could write my first blog post from gorgeous Qikiqtarjuaq, Nunavut.

Our Christmas tree and our perfect view, Dec 2012

 

Katie's two year old daughter Shemekia was flown into Iqaluit last Friday, the same day that my dad and sister flew out. She was the most wonderful little house guest for two nights, until our flight to Qik on Sunday. The stress of flying with two babies was there, but was over shadowed by the most incredible view I've seen from an airplane window.

We left the house at 6:15am, my dear friend Nick spent the night, helped store a lot of my large, and not easily travelled items, such as Brody's crib, and then packed us into his truck and saw us off. The flight was full, leaving Iqaluit, landing in Pangnirtung and then Qikiqtarjuaq, when it would then fly off to a small number of additional communities.

Landing in Pang made me feel as though my desire to truly see the North was becoming tangible. Iqaluit, though North, is still a City, with lots of tourists and lots of migrated Southerners. Pang was like nothing I had experienced in my life. It was a fiord, a landing strip surrounded by mountains, we were on our way. The flight between Pang and Qik made the journey feel real. I was thinking of Corey Trepanier, the artist we met in Iqaluit who had documented his travels through the North. Travels on which he painted Mount Thor. He boated from Qikiqtarjuaq to the rock giant, where he camped out and painted the wall, which I believe he said was the highest vertical drop in Canada. I was thinking with naivety, 'wow, how special.' Then I landed, and thought, 'no wonder.... look at this place.'

The view from our living room window is something Corey would have painted. The view from every point in this small town is worthy of being brought to life through art and shared with the world. No matter where I stand, I have a mountain view, with a quaint, and truly Northern town in the foreground.

This is the smallest town I have ever seen, almost eerie in its quietness. It is painfully cold most of the time, almost as if the mountains funnel the cold air right into your face. This, probably being the reason that most of Qikiqtarjuaq's residents seem to try to stay indoors.

Maybe thirty five or forty feet from the front door is the Bay, which is currently home to a team of sled dogs, and a handful of incredible ice burgs. Yesterday we woke up to a pink sky, this morning we woke up to a moon, more orange, more gargantuan, more remarkable than I have ever seen it. I tried to take pictures, using the mountains to show the scale of the moon. Everything looks small in comparison to the real life view I had as I stood by the bay in my snow gear, with pajamas underneath. It literally looked as though the moon was kissing the Earth, brushing up against it, greeting it in passing, for it was gone within half an hour.

There is hardly any day light here, the sun shines on the other side of mountains, casting its glow over top of them but it never presents itself to us. The glow begins around nine in the morning and fades shortly after lunch.

I have so much to see here, with light and babies keeping me from hiking to the base of the mountains and starting a day long climb, the sight seeing will have to wait. When opportunities present themselves, I will walk mindlessly into the freedom that is this small town and it's surroundings.

Thinking, planning and day dreaming

I still have a few things to do in Iqaluit, such as take a skidoo trip to Kimmirut, which we didn't get to do in April because the river ice melted too soon. The City has a hold on me, but I think I've known for quite some time, probably around the time I started aching for travel, that I needed to move on from Iqaluit.

I'll be back, probably fairly often, but I think I've enjoyed the City enough that its time for me to move on and leave an opening for someone new to soak it up.

Seeing the awe in the faces of newcomers always amuses me. The other day I watched my dad gape at the almost nineteen dollar price tag on orange juice, his reaction as good as every other visitor. It reminded me of the way I viewed the City and everything in it with fresh eyes, once upon a time.

Now I've seen every celebration, most more than once, been to every show and fair and had more family visit me than I had ever imagined. I have lived through fantastic opportunities and given my loved ones the opportunity to share this with me.

I met incredible people in Iqaluit, and have made a handful of lifelong friends. My baby boy was born here, and most of his relatives reside here. I have loved Iqaluit, Nunavut, and it has been so fantastic to me.

I simply feel that it's time, it is time to find a new adventure, create some new excitement, find new love, new passion, new appreciation.

I'm not sure where my next steps will take me and I'm not sure when, but I don't think I will call Iqaluit home for much of the coming year. I will be ringing in the new year in Qikiqtarjuaq and am due to hook back up with my company in the New Year, when I will begin looking into other communities and opportunities that may be our next home.

Written December 15th.

Brain Soup, Coming to a Blog near you

My mind has turned to mush. I know I mentioned it before, but really... my mind has become a data base that NEVER turns off. Grocery lists, to do lists, to call lists, to clean lists, to prepare for lists and add a baby to the scenario and voila, mush.

I booked my ticket to Qikiqtarjuaq! I fly out on December 23rd, with a brief stop in Pangnirtung, which I am very excited about as it is a gorgeous City. I doubt I will see it with much quality light as late December is the darkest time of year up where we are. Katie sent me a few photos while she was en route to Qik, she took pictures of the mountains and the airport, they were breath taking, even from her cell phone. I fly out of Iqaluit at 7:45am and the flight is just over 2 hours, not including the stop.

Katie's pictures of Qikiqtarjuaq

The City of Qikiqtarjuaq

The other day Katie was in bed and heard a commotion outside of her house, when she looked outside she found a crowd of people, all looking off in the same direction, their gazes trailing a polar bear that had literally walked right next to her house. I begged for a photo of the paw prints but the following day was a snowy one and she had missed the window of opportunity.

Katie's house while she is in Qik

I get that I wont be able to do much solo exploring in Qik, but the thought of seeing a polar bear thrills me. Iqaluit, as wonderful a place as it is, does not offer a very wide array of wildlife within the City. If you want to find the fauna you need to venture out onto the land. Luckily, we do experience excitement in the form of blizzards, which Jenna got to witness two days ago, I wondered if I sounded so foreign when I reacted to my first storm.

Brody and I falling through the snow in Iqaluit

I haven't quite started packing yet, but it's on one of the many lists in my head. I cant wait to get organized and packed up as my apartment feels like a bird cage, small and cramped. With Jenna and her current diaper caking project on the go, her Christmas shopping sprawling across her dresser (which might I add, is in my living room) and baby stuff EVERYWHERE, we are a little tight.

As you know, I live in a one bedroom apartment. In December, I will have three house guests at one point. My tiny apartment will be temporary home to four adults, one baby and two cats. Yay!

We have a lot coming up, Jenna, like I said, has been making tiered cakes made of baby diapers to sell while she is here, as baby shower gifts. She has booked a table at a craft show this Sunday and asked me to bake real goodies to accompany her diaper goodies. She has also volunteered Brody and I to model with her in Northmart's annual fashion show. Dad arrives on the 12th and my other guest, who I am supposed to be keeping a surprise leaves on the 13th.

Jenna's Project

Lots of excitement. Lots to look forward to.

Music and Costumes

Mommy brain, it really exists. I secretly believe that television sends my four month old baby subliminal messages so even when hes napping I only watch Tree House, no commercials, no advertisements and lots of subtle baby lessons learned. Great for him, however it is turning my brain to mush. Half of me longs for time out, a single drink in hand, a few good laughs and adult conversation, the other half of me trusts no one with my baby's bed time routine and refuses to leave him without his mommy for more than half an hour.

We did go out once since my sister, Brody and I arrived home. When I was away I heard that the National Arts Centre's Orchestra was on their Northern Canada Tour. It was the first time an Orchestra would play in Iqaluit... I had to have tickets. My friend Sherri found them at Ventures, for free! So I sent Katie out to collect a few and on October 27th Jenna, Katie and I had a girls night out at Nakasuk school to watch them play magical music. There was a lighting of the kudlik, throat singing and even a 'blue eyed accordion player from Pangnirtung.' Brody stayed with Stephen, Katie's husband, and he texted us to say Brody was asleep, right on time and went down easily.

Canada's National Arts Centre Orchestra in Iqaluit

 Its strange having a baby in the North. We've been practicing bundling up and enduring wind, though Brody still doesn't enjoy the wind part, even if its just a little. He gulps in air, closes his mouth and makes choking sounds while throwing his head wildly back and forth like hes suffocating. It hurts me to watch him so our outings have been limited and usually I amaq him in Katie's winter amauti or push him in the stroller, very bundled and covered with a rain and wind shield. Never the less, I am thoroughly enjoying this left over Hurricane Sandy weather, lots of snow for us and it is igniting the Christmas spirit in me.

Full moon

October ended after proving eventful in Iqaluit, we capped it off with a fantastic Halloween day that included caramel apples, Pillsbury Halloween cookies, a happy jackolantern and two very cute animals.

Halloweeners, my little owl and sad sad tiger

Oh, and Jenna met Polar Man, shes officially seen Iqaluit.

From Fall to Snow Fall

Brody and Mommy at the cottage

Leaving Ontario to catch a flight back to Iqaluit has never been so difficult. This time, the difficulty was in watching my moms heart break as I packed up to take her first grandson out of the Province. I sat through many a "please come home soon" conversations on our trip to Oakville. I have put a 'most likely no more than three years and we'll be home,' in many an ear. My plan is to have Brody go to school in the South. 

Brody and Grandma taking a yawn break from hiking

 

We got to spend a lot of quality time with everyone in the family, allowing everyone to fall head over heals in love with my baby boy. If he knows anything yet, he knows how very loved he is.

Baby boy with his Great Aunty Lyn in Toronto

While my sister was in South Africa a couple of weeks ago, I emailed her to tell her I had booked her ticket to Iqaluit. She had been telling me she didnt want to be without Brody. Now she is stuck to us until the end of December and she'll be working for the Company to save money for her four month trip to Thailand.

Our dad drove us from Oakville to Ottawa on Monday and we flew into Iqaluit on Tuesday, landing in a snow covered City. Brody got to see snow for the first time ever and Jenna got to see snow in October, which actually sounds normal to me now. We left behind trees in fall, reds, yellows and oranges for negative temperatures and a winter wonderland. The sun has been out, providing beautiful days for touring Iqaluit and Jenna has already seen the Northern Lights!

The coming months will be exciting for us. Not only will Jenna be with us but my dad will be visiting in December, just before Christmas. I am hoping there is enough snow and ice to send the two of them dog sledding for their Christmas gift. My best friend Katie is also pursuing her own store to manage and will be spending some time in Qikiqtarjuaq to refresh before she takes on her own store. Qikiqtarjuaq is a little over 2 hours North of Iqaluit (by plane of course) and has a population of less than 700. It has been a plan of mine to travel Nunavut while we live here and what an opportunity this will be! Not only will I still be on paternity leave, but Katie provides me with a good reason to visit another town.

Jenna on her first City walk in Iqaluit

Until then, I will spend my days trying to get the little one accustomed to a snow suit and being in an amauti, (neither of which he loves) and re-experiencing Iqaluit through fresh eyes with Jenna.

Little Boy

All of that excitement and anxiety that I had building inside of me has finally come to the conclusion that I had hoped. On Friday, July 6th, 2012 at 11:24pm my beautiful 7 pound, 13.8 ounce baby boy emerged into this world. His little purple toes and squishy face tangible in front of me. The first thing that he did when he arrived was pee on my hands as the Doctor lifted him up to put him on Enoosiq's stomach.

I am a mother now. I'm not sure how it happened. The days stringed together, my hopes and my fears weaving through the hours of each day. I was terrified for more than 6 months, from the moment I decided that the baby my friend had been carrying inside of her would be mine.

When I moved to Iqaluit I met dozens of girls who told stories of the child they adopted out or the baby their family adopted in. I thought that bringing a child into my life and loving him or her as my own would be something I might like to do someday. Perhaps I would do it before I moved back to Ontario, in the future, my plans were always for the future.

And then the day came when there was a pregnant girl before me, a beautiful, kind girl who I knew, pregnant with the child of a good man who I also knew. I was 22, I had planned on having children young but with no man in my life and no immediate plans to start a family, adoption now wasn't in the forefront of my mind.

It took one night for me to decide and then in the very second that I knew what the alternative plan for his life was, he was mine. His little heart was mine, his little hidden body, sheltered by hers was mine. His life would be mine to shape, to cherish and to nurture. From these days onward there was fear, not for becoming a mother, this was what I wanted beyond a shadow of a doubt; this was my calling. I was afraid, I suppose for the reasons that every mother is afraid, I wanted to know that my baby had ten fingers and ten toes, I wanted to know that he was healthy, that he would lead a good life and if he wouldn't be able to, if God forbid he wasn't healthy, I wanted to know that I would have what it took to give him a beautiful life, regardless.

I was surprised by the rest of my fears, as they weren't something I had ever considered before I knew I had a baby on the way. A lot of the time I don't like to talk about it, but there is an honesty I cant hide when I write, I never feel free until I bare my soul, unleashing it from buried thoughts. I had fears that someone would take my baby, first that she would change her mind, then the brief passing of the fear that he would change his mind. These fears followed by the terror in the idea that I may not be good enough for Social Services. There are nearly no places to look for guidelines or assurance. I felt very alone in the process, with only the supportive, but naive words from friends and family to comfort me. There were some who met me with reality, assuring me that my fears were real but that they would stand by me regardless, one of whom is an old reader of mine who now lives in Iqaluit. No matter who said "it will be okay," or how many times they said it, the very real nerves in my body kept me up at night. I was afraid of losing the child who was already mine. This baby had become a part of my plans for the future, he was what I based my hopes and dreams on already. My goals in life had been altered to make room for the little human who would be my entire life, who would be absolutely all that mattered. He was already all that mattered.

It wasn't until I met Nicole, the social worker who took on my case that I found waves of relief. She was sent to me by God. A beautiful young woman with a heart of gold. She told me vaguely what Iqaluit holds, the children in need of loving homes and not enough people opening the doors to those homes. Nicole inspired me, supported me and gave me the smile I needed to know that our life would turn out the way we needed it to. The words that came from her heart also made me want to advocate for Iqaluit's children, to search for families who would open their lives to children. Iqaluit needs more foster families, Iqaluit's children need families and love and support.

Today my little boy, Brody Scott Maqaiti Davis is six weeks old. He is laying in front of me with his eyes closed, sleeping to the soft clicking of my fingers on the keys of my laptop. He grunts when I stop typing. He is my muse now, in everything I do in life.

They tell you, you will feel a certain way when you have a child. There was this love you would experience and adding one more fear to my list, I worried I wouldn't feel it. My baby boy didn't grow in my tummy, but he grew just as quickly in my heart. My son is mine, through and through. I held her hand around the rail of her bed as she pushed him out and for the following minutes I could barely see through my tears. There is a love here, in my home, in my body, that is impossible. It cannot be described. Brody and I are a family, he was made for me and I for him. I tell him everyday that I will give him the World, that I will try my best to show him all of the wonder there is here.

Brody at 3 weeks, visiting his family in Ontario for the first time.

In a matter of seconds, my life shifted from being mine, to being ours and my heart shifted from being closed off to being impossibly exposed, it belongs to the little boy in front of me and always will.

Now we will explore the Arctic together and after that, the rest of the World.