Category Archives: Commercial Fishing Family
As Promised, Feedback From My Commercial Fishing Peeps.
A couple of weeks ago, I published a post that included four of the more recent and interesting search queries that landed people at this blog. I thought about addressing each of the queries myself, but to my surprise, it was easier said than done. I quickly discovered that my thoughts on some of the topics were scattered and even unkind.
Therefore, I decided it would be a better idea (and more fun!) to open up the dialogue and invite you, the readers, to reply instead. I wrote that I might publish your replies in the form of a blog post or in the comments, and that you could remain anonymous.
To refresh your memory, here are the four search queries for which I solicited replies:
1. What are some neat things about commercial fishing?
2. What can we do about commercial fishing?
3. Why do women leave their husbands when they are commercial fishermen?
4. What do commercial fishermen do when they are away from their wives?
At long last, I’ve selected responses from three very different readers: A commercial fisherman, an experienced fishing wife, and a new fishing wife.
I gave the option for readers to stay anonymous (not everyone enjoys a public platform), and so I am honoring the wish of the commercial fisherman to remain so. And in case you’re wondering; no, the anonymous fisherman is not my husband, G! It is, however, a man within the same age-range and a university graduate who comes from a fishing family.
The “experienced fishing wife” is Lori French, from The Faces of California Fishing. The “new fishing wife” is the author of the blog, The Fisherman’s Wife (aka “The Fish Wifey”). The Fish Wifey has an interesting take on some aspects of commercial fishing culture; you may use the link she’s provided at the end of this post to read more. Oh—and when The Fish Wifey references her husband by the initial, “-G-”, it is not the same G as my G!
Got all that? :)
I hope you enjoy the different perspectives of these replies. I wholeheartedly agree with some of what was written, and strongly disagree with some of what was written. Give all of the responses a read and see what you think.
Here we go:
What are some neat things about commercial fishing?
The Commercial Fisherman:
Freedom to make choices of how you fish, where you fish, who you fish with, what kind of fish you fish for. Every day is different with new challenges and highs and lows. Each set, tow, pot, or shackle writes its own story and has the ability to save the day or completely destroy it. Being on the water is pretty cool but has drawbacks as well. At the end of it all, it is a job with no grey area you either love or enjoy doing, or you don’t. It is not a job that you keep unless you are passionate and willing to make sacrifices to keep doing it.
Lori:
Our freedom to do things our way…..most of the time.
The Fish Wifey:
I asked my husband his opinion for this one:
- Witnessing some of the most beautiful sights on the planet. Unbelievable sunrises and breathtaking sunsets.
- Having fun with your best friends.
- Experiencing the power of mother nature.
- The “fisherman’s high” when it all goes perfect.
- BIG MONEY and fast cash.
- Pushing your body to its limits and knowing just how powerful you truly are.
- You never stop learning, everyday is different.
- Getting to eat REAL seafood! Can’t get any better than straight off the boat.
What can we do about commercial fishing?
The Commercial Fisherman:
Don’t get me started…. There is nothing we can do about commercial fishing, nor should anything be done. Commercial fishing provides access to a food source which benefits millions of people all over the world. Fishing is regulated, scrutinized, and then regulated some more.
Scientific uncertainty in the stock assessments is addressed by taking less fish and not more. Education about commercial fishing is essential because, in addition to the general public, today’s regulatory bodies and many involved in the regulatory process don’t have intimate knowledge of the fisheries they regulate.
The environmental movement is no longer a movement, it is an industry. They need to make money and keep their jobs the same as anyone and they do it by making statements, press releases, and filing lawsuits to generate publicity which scares the public, who have no intimate knowledge of fisheries, into writing donation checks to solve a problem which does not exist in an attempt to save something that does not need saving.
Again, the public does not know the real story and don’t realize they are being preyed upon by these groups. They should be furious and hopefully will clue in and put their money toward a nice plate of seafood and a glass of wine at their local restaurant and relax a little bit.
Lori:
I’m just going to assume that the question is “What can we do to help commercial fishing?”
Because if the question asker (my own word) means it in a negative way, well, then there is no PG reply.
Now to answer “What can we do to help commercial fishing?” We can help by promoting our husband’s products and our lifestyle by educating the general public. I see a growing trend of Facebook and the internet of blogs, stories, newspaper columns and editorials by women taking the bull by the horns and doing such things. It’s very gratifying and I think we are a force to be reckoned with. Start in the schools, talk at the grocery store, spread the word that USA Wild Caught is the BEST.
The Fish Wifey:
Not totally sure how to interpret this question but I’m gonna say… continue to explore new technologies/equipment which insure the safety of our fisherman. As far as the environmental standpoint, hopefully the future will provide fisherman with eco-friendly options and advancements for the industry.
Why do women leave their husbands when they are commercial fishermen?
The Commercial Fisherman:
Divorce happens to a huge percentage of people in our country. I don’t think the rate is much higher for fishing families. I know people in the industry who have been married forever and raised families either with some or all of them on the boat, as well as just the fathers leaving to go fishing for months at a time. “You’re so miserable without me it’s almost like I’m here.”
Fishing is not “vanilla” and the business is changing all the time with many ups and downs. Everyone sees you buy the new pick-up truck but they don’t stay around to watch you drive it for the next 15 years until you can afford another one.
Women likely leave their husbands because to be a fisherman you have to love what you do and it would appear on the surface that the fisherman loves his job more than his wife, but there is much more to it than that….
Lori:
I don’t know. We’ve been happily married for almost 28 years. One of the nicest things my fisherman ever said was, “I know if something happens to me, you are strong enough to make it.” When we were in college, it was one of the first things that attracted me to him (besides his Foothill t shirt, the one where the Foothill was well placed) was the fact that he was hard-working and putting himself through school.
I flat-out tell our boys all the time if they are half as honest and hardworking as their dad, I will be happy.
The Fish Wifey:
Why does any woman leave her husband? There is always a “good” or “valid” reason, I suppose. But personally I can’t really answer this question.
I can tell you why I stay… because I vowed to stay…forever. That’s it! NO reasons required. When I ask -G- “Why do you love me?” His reply every single time is “Because I said so.”
Sure, there are reasons why we love each other, but it’s our promise and not our “reasons” which keep our marriage alive.
What do commercial fishermen do when they are away from their wives?
The Commercial Fisherman:
All fishermen think about when they are gone is their families and how to get back to them as quickly and as safely as possible. We love to catch fish but it is a means to an end, supporting our families, enjoying the fruits of our labors and sacrifices together.
Lori:
I’ve never had any worries about other women.
One time my husband came home so flustered. I asked him what was wrong and he said, “The woman at the gas station was flirting with me, and I had Lorrin with me.” (Lorrin is our oldest son, he was about 2 -3 at the time.)
“Why would she do that? I can’t go back there.” He was dead serious. I had to point out to him that he is/was rather nice looking and doesn’t wear a wedding ring. He never did go back to that gas station, which was pretty hard in our small town.
I know when he’s gone he takes his metal detector with him for those times when they are in. And I know for a fact that the boat gets more ESPN than we do at home so he is a happy camper. Oh and the fact that when they are gone THEY WORK!
The Fish Wifey:
Here is my personal experience in regards to this question. My commercial fishing husband and I were separated for three years. In one of my recent blog posts, “You’re not the man I married,” I share how he compensated for lack of intimacy in our marriage and the effects it had on our relationship once reunited. Below is a segment from that post:
“I’m married to a man who thinks he is still a bachelor. I suppose I can’t blame him…we did live on separate coasts the last three years. The only way he’s been able to deal with loneliness is by frequenting strip clubs and browsing internet porn. These bachelor tendencies are very much ingrained into the fisherman culture and plus he is a MAN after all. Now that marital sex is back on the table, somewhere along the line -G- has come to the conclusion that I’m a stripper or porn star myself. SORRY TO DISAPPOINT HUBBY! This is not the case. Nowhere in my repertoire of clothing will you find 6′ plastic heals and cheap perfume. When it comes to the bedroom I’m fairly traditional as I have always been. No I’m not a prude but I do have my limits. I suppose I’m flattered and even glad he is very much attracted to me. But let me remind you, I DO NOT want a stripper pole in our bedroom…just saying. Furry handcuffs, sure…whips and chains… I think I’ll pass.”
http://thefishermanswife.me/2012/04/26/you-are-not-the-man-i-married/
Jen:
Here are my two cents, based on my experience, about what fishermen do when they are away from their wives:
They are fixing and repairing complicated engines on vessels worth anywhere from $40,000 to $4 million and hooking up new and updated satellite services so they can communicate with their loved ones while they’re at sea. They are staying busy keeping detailed log books and staying current on the ever-changing and convoluted fishery rules, changes, and requirements. In town, they’re shopping for souvenirs from various ports to send to their children and wondering how their families are doing at home.
They’re feeling bad for missing so much family life and wondering (worrying) how the fishing season will shape up and end up. If it’s been a great season, they might be thinking about where to take their family on vacation. If it’s a bad season, they might be wondering how they will pay for the next year of soccer lessons for the kids.
They are calling around from sea to different markets on land to find out where the best price for their catch will be and determining where to deliver. They’re working smart and hard so they come home safely and alive to their families. They’re reading books in the galley, watching movies in the wheelhouse, sleeping in their bunks, having a barbecue on the back deck, taking a walk in town, or having a well-deserved drink and dinner with the rest of the crew.
I may address the question of why women leave their commercial fishing husbands at a later date…the question is relevant and tempting, yet difficult to answer.
Happy Mother’s Day!
What a great Mother’s Day. I knew the kids and I would be alone on this day, and I hoped that we would have a nice time. The good news is that we had a wonderful Mother’s Day weekend together!
I am thankful for the preschool and kindergarten teachers of Eva and Vincent; they facilitated the making of Mother’s Day cards and thumb print keychains, threw a party, and helped the kids write stories and draw pictures of and about Mom that broke my heart, made my day, and made me smile.
The stories and pictures about Mom also made me panic! I’ve learned just this year that it is unnerving to have your children answer questions for their teachers about Mom for their Mother’s Day gifts. Whoa. I froze for a moment when I saw the questions Vincent filled in about Mom for his card and pictures. I froze again when I read the card and questions Eva filled out!
“What is your mom’s favorite thing to drink? How old is Mom? What do you love about Mom? What is Mom’s favorite thing to do?”
Eeks! Well, in an edited summary…according to Vincent, I’m nine years old. My favorite things to eat are chicken legs and shrimp. He loves me because I teach him how to write and “I’m good at writing.”
According to Eva, I “let her help take care of the baby.” Her favorite thing is when I cuddle with her.
To celebrate Mother’s Day, Eva and I got pedicures while I held little Valerie. Then, the four of us (Eva, Vincent, Valerie, and me) went to church and then to the pool, where we enjoyed a rare May Pacific Northwest sun.
George wasn’t home (he’s in King Cove, Alaska, where it’s 30-degrees and water hoses are frozen). I didn’t get time off from being “Mom”, no flowers came to my doorstep, no dishes or laundry or dinner were done for me.
But I enjoyed the greatest Mother’s Day gift ever—time with my children. The little ones put extra effort into getting along and behaving, were excited to present me with their gifts, and we all enjoyed an afternoon of warmth, love, and fun.
Happy Mother’s Day to all!
A Sunny Departure to Longline Season 2012
Well, Siri is going to help me out again with composing a blog post. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to sit down and type, but it isn’t going to happen. So, here I am again, holding baby Valerie, talking at my iPhone!
George and the crew got underway to Alaska last Saturday evening. They steamed out of the harbor underneath a beautiful spring evening sun.
They have a lot of halibut and blackcod to catch, so I hope they get on the fish quickly and get it caught before too long into summer. I am so looking forward to summertime and George being here for most of it!
George had one week off in between fishing seasons, but that one week occurred at the same time as the kids’ spring break, so that worked out well. I was able to get in a much–needed hair appointment while he was here, and I even got a pedicure. There was not any time for a massage, but that will leave me something to look forward to when he comes back!
Eva and Vincent have done very well regarding their dad’s departure. I think watching Daddy leave in the sun helped. It’s not as dreary or depressing as watching him depart underneath dark clouds and pouring rain, like during crab season.
We had a little Easter celebration the morning George left. The Fisherman Bunny came early and the kids had a great time searching for eggs, not to mention the fun they had coloring them the day before. They decorated eggs with our friend and babysitter, Hailey, and they also decorated some with me. The eggs they colored with Hailey were a lot cuter than mine!
Each day for the kids and me is incredibly full. We move from one task to the next until about 8 o’clock at night, at which point all books are put away, teeth are brushed, everything stops, and we all go to bed. Even Mom!
Eva is a great little helper and she gives me a small break each evening when she holds Valerie so I can get up and do a couple of things like empty the dishwasher or put laundry away.
I think we have a pretty good system going for now. If we can just keep it up for the next three months and nothing throws a wrench into our routine, we will be good to go.
Like this:
A Commercial Fishing Family’s Worst Nightmare.
One subject I don’t spend a lot of time writing about on this blog, although it’s a blog about fishing families, is the ever–looming threat to fishing families of deaths and disaster at sea.
You may have heard by now about the Lady Cecelia, a trawler out of Oregon, that went down (sank) in a matter of seconds seventeen miles off the coast of southern Washington, taking all four crewmembers with her. Unless you have a direct tie to commercial fishing and fishermen, you may have shrugged off the story and the catastrophe as just another boat, just another crew, just another run of bad luck in the industry.
But when you are profoundly connected to the industry and you look at a picture like the one included in the article, you stop. You stare. You look intently into the face of one of the men that was lost and you see your own husband, your dad, your brother. If you are a fisherman, perhaps you halt for a moment, seeing yourself.
You continue to look at the picture and see the two-year old boy, dressed just like his daddy in Xtra Tuffs and orange rain gear, sitting on Daddy’s lap on the boat. Your heart overflows with grief and sorrow that this daddy, whom the child clearly adores, is now lost. Maybe in the little boy you see your own little son or daughter, your grandchild, or your nephew.
One reason I don’t write much about the potential for and reality of tragedy in our profession—one of the world’s most deadly professions—is because I can’t. The thought is always in my mind as I go about my day and drift off to sleep at night. Having already lost my brother-in-law fifteen years ago to the sea during an Alaska crab season (you can read a bit about him here), the memory of that horror and disbelief lives on in my heart. I don’t like to bring it to the forefront by writing often about it.
As a grandchild, child, wife, sister, and mother in a fishing family, and as someone who has actually fished, I have to get distance from the risks and possibilities. I can’t dwell on the “what ifs”. I have to stay focused on the day-to-day; my children to care for, a household to maintain, pets to feed. I stay busy with my children, my activities, my friends, and family.
Sometimes, though, I wonder. What would I do if I received word that George was lost? If one of the crew was lost? If the entire boat was gone? How would I tell our children? What would I tell them? How would we ever continue?
I think of the practical aspects. Would I keep this house and find comfort in the memories and familiarity of it, or would I find it too large, too sad, and decide to sell it? What would I do about the business-end of things? Our operation is rather involved and complicated, especially for a family fishing operation. Would I understand how to handle the IFQs? What do I do with hundreds of crab pots, a locker full of longline tubs, lines, seine nets, gear, permits, documents, and loans? Besides family, who would I trust to understand and help me in these matters?
I was in my early 20s when my brother-in-law, Danny, died. He and my sister had recently been married and they did not have children. All these years later, I still remember the way well-meaning family and friends, all who’d come to lovingly offer us comfort and condolence, spoke quietly among themselves. I remember one comment I heard again and again.
“At least they didn’t have children.”
As I heard this repeatedly over the days and weeks following the accident, I wondered about it. I’ve continued to wonder about it through the years, going over the comment in my mind and looking at both sides.
“At least they didn’t have children.”
What would be worse, I’ve wondered? Having to look into the precious faces of your young ones and tell them they no longer have a living father? Would it be better to not suffer that grief? Or is it better to have a living piece of your spouse still in the world in the form of little ones with his laugh, his expressions, perhaps even his character?
Last night, our children (Eva, 6, and Vincent, 4) overheard bits and pieces of George and I quietly discussing the tragedies of this week (a total of six fishermen in separate accidents who died at sea on the Washington and Oregon coasts). In particular, the children wanted to see the picture of the fisherman and his son; we did not show it to them.
We knew that if they saw the picture of the fisherman sitting on the boat with his little one in his lap, they would see their own daddy. They would see the other fisherman daddies they know and love; Bryan, and Brett, and Johnny, and Oscar. If they saw the picture of the little boy, they would see themselves and each other. And they would be scared, and they would cry, and they would worry.
But I’ve looked at the picture dozens of times. I choke back tears in silence away from the children, because only the mommies and the daddies should worry. We may keep that worry in the back of our minds or deep in our hearts, we may not talk about it, and we don’t often write about it, but we do. We worry.
All the time.
Like this:
Baby Steps For Mommy and Baby
It’s become clear that I am not going to find a quiet moment to sit down at my computer, so I am using my iPhone for this blog post. Actually, what I’m really doing is walking around holding a swaddled infant while I talk at my phone using Siri.
I don’t know why I never thought to use Siri before to “write” a blog post. Although I feel pretty silly talking to myself, at least I can give some sort of a blog update this way!
Valerie is now seven weeks old. Although I am still very tired and get worn out easily, I am definitely doing a lot better. It’s not easy getting up for several nighttime feedings and then being awake and on point all day for all three children, but I am still getting a bit of help with transportation issues for the older two children, for which I am very grateful.
The other good thing is that at this point in the winter crab season, the weather can come up at any time. When the weather turns especially nasty and fishing is too dangerous, George can come home and help out until the weather calms down on the coast and he goes back out to run through the gear again.
The initial all–important push of the crab season is over and now the season consists mostly of turning through the gear and making deliveries. While there has not been tons of crab around, the price has been pretty good so that really helps!
I made my first trip out of town with Valerie a couple of weeks ago for the Jazzercise instructor district meeting. My friend, Amanda, who has a five-month-old, Violet, invited Valerie and I to drive with them to the meeting.
I had really wanted to attend the meeting but was nervous about going by myself, so Amanda’s offer to drive was an offer I could not refuse, and off we went with our little babies. All of the instructors on our Jazzercise team were fantastic help and they took turns holding Valerie almost the whole time!
I felt more confident after that event, so when our extended family trip to the Great Wolf Lodge came up this week, I felt pretty good about going. As usual, the Lodge was a good time and all three children were fantastic! Actually, make that four fantastic children, because my toddler niece was there as well!
Although I was scared I would not get much rest or sleep with a tiny baby in a new environment, the exact opposite happened. Valerie has never slept better than she did at the Lodge, so as a result, I got a little extra sleep as well.
The Great Wolf Lodge had a couple of interesting changes this year. Of particular interest and source of excitement for the adults in my family was the addition of a portable bar that was rolled into the lobby and positioned next to the clock tower each evening for happy hour, of all things!
My sister and dad happened to be in the lobby when the bartender and the bar surprisingly and suddenly appeared, and each of them sent me a text notifying me of this exciting development. George and I wasted no time getting back down to the lobby once we received the good word!
Have three children, will travel.
Hey, who said Vincent didn't fit in the bassinet?
Baby Violet and Baby Valerie (JazzerVi and JazzerVal) at their first Jazzercise instructor district meeting.
In Search of a Pot of Crab Gold
George texted me a beautiful picture from Westport, Washington, of a rainbow off the stern of the f/v Vis, taken late afternoon today.
Actually, he sent it to our family texting group after I informed everyone in the group that it was National Margarita Day.
Not a tequila fan, myself, I’ll gladly settle for a glass or two of good red wine to end what has been a beautiful winter day.
Not to be outdone by a rainbow, however, is Miss Valerie, dressed in her Dungeness crab outfit. Val’s outfit is so cute, and the rainbow so beautiful, that I’m sure the pot of crab gold must surely be around the crab corner in good ole’ Westport.
Happy Margarita Day! Cheers.
Like this:
And Sweet Baby Valerie Makes Five.
Valerie Joy
You may have guessed, based on the amount of time that has gone by since my last post, that our precious baby Valerie Joy has indeed been born. She decided to make a very rapid appearance on January 19, 2012 and was born in literally a matter of minutes! Valerie is a tiny little thing who weighed just 6 pounds, 5.8 ounces at birth and measured 19 inches long.
While at the hospital, she dropped down to 5 pounds 8 ounces, but within just a couple of days was right back up to her birth weight. So far, she is a very mild baby who sleeps quite a bit; and thank goodness for that, because each time she sleeps, I race to my bed and sleep as well.
George was home for the birth (although ironically, he almost missed it; he was eating lunch in the cafeteria with my dad, Eva, and Vincent when Valerie suddenly decided to burst forth. Boy, was he shocked when he ambled back into our room and realized what was transpiring!). George even got to stay for two extra days with me at the hospital thanks to a storm and its accompanying twenty-foot seas that kept the crab boats in the harbor on the official start of the Dungeness crab season.
Sadly, George did leave over a week ago and the kids and I have been holding down the fort. We have had lots of amazing help from my family and friends; everything from school pick-ups and drop-offs, to meals, the sharing of baby supplies, the folding of laundry, and even a slumber party for the kids at the home of our friends.
All of this help has been a surprise and a blessing. I don’t know what I would have done here with a newborn, two other little ones adjusting to not only the arrival of a baby sister but also the departure of their dad, and a household of chores that need to be kept on top of without such help offered to me.
We are off to a good start thanks to so many. George and I also enjoyed some pleasant and uninterrupted time together at the hospital before he left which allowed us to reconnect with each other, enjoy the blessing of Valerie, and get our new family of five off to a positive and peaceful start. I will never forget how sweet it was to spend that time with him in total relief that Valerie had finally arrived safely and soundly, and be able to let go of the worry and anxiety that defined the pregnancy.
I feel such physical and mental relief, such gratitude, the likes of which I’ve rarely felt on this level. My heart sings and leaps for joy each time I look around me and see these three amazing little blessings that God somehow saw fit to allow me to love, cherish, and raise. Astonishing.
Eva holding Valerie at the hospital; her dream come true at last.
Vincent and Valerie. My sweet buddy is slowly adjusting.
Eva swaddled her pink bear.
Like this:
May the Dungeness Crab and Baby Party Begin Already!
The boat left with a load of Dungeness crab pots last weekend. Although it is always sad to hug G goodbye and wave the crew off, it’s also kind of a relief. Especially this year. There has been so much waiting, wondering, and anticipation as to when the gear work will end, when the boat will leave for Westport, when the season will start, and if the weather will cooperate.
And of course, this year we have the added anticipation of a baby due on the exact day George and the fellas will dump five-hundred crab pots to the bottom of the ocean, hoping the season will be profitable and safe for the five families—including at least a dozen children combined—who are relying on it.
No pressure!
Ah, what can you do? That’s life, moving forward the way life tends to do.
Here are a few pictures of this year’s Dungeness Crab Season 2012 Departure Day:
What an awesome, sweet, and tough crew we have in Bryan, Johnny, Brett, Oscar, and George.
Precious and resilient commercial fishing kids watching Dad pull away from the dock.
Johnny on top of the pots.
George will have a few days at home in between getting the boat to Westport and when the season officially begins, so here’s still hoping the baby decides to arrive during the window in which he is home.
I’m ready.
The kids’ bedroom switch and redesign is complete; Vincent has cool new bunk beds, Eva has her rainbow/butterfly/flower room. Holidays are over, children are back in school, preschool, and activities. House is clean, Christmas presents are put away, writing invoices have been sent off.
I’m tired of waiting; I’m looking ahead already to springtime, capris, sandals, renewed energy, evenings of sunshine and bayside cocktails, and a body I can actually move with ease and feel comfortable within.
Time to get this party started! :)
I love this picture of Vincent; he looks like he just climbed off a Dutch Harbor fishing vessel.
Goodbye, 2011. Great to Finally Meet You, 2012.
I just hung up my new 2012 kitchen wall calendar and deposited the 2011 edition into the recycling bin. I have to say—I am not sorry to see 2011 go.
It’s not that it has been a bad year; for the most part, it moved along just fine. When I look back, I’m incredibly grateful for the health of my kids and family and a good year of fishing and safety for George and the crew. We had a couple of fun trips; Las Vegas in March and Kauai in April, and plans to start making vacations a more regular part of our routine after not taking any for years.
But then I remember the way our beloved pitbull, Toby, died suddenly last April (the day before we left on our first family vacation in five years) after successfully and healthily beating a cancer diagnosis for three years. George left for Alaska and the halibut/blackcod longlining season soon after, and then shortly after that, I discovered we were unexpectedly expecting again.
Pregnancy sickness lasted throughout the summer, fall, and now into winter, making the challenge of being a seasonally single commercial fishing mom much more difficult than it really needs to be.
I have to say that after dealing with a variety of doctors, various medical offices and front desk staff, nurses, opinions, test results, and appointments for the past nine months, I would be happy to never, ever have to step foot in an office or deal with anyone in the medical profession ever again. I plan to write a much longer essay on the topic later, after I’ve had some distance and can gain perspective on this experience, but for now, all I can think is that I want this to be over.
The good news is that in eighteen days (if not sooner), it will be. Assuming all goes well with delivery and the first few months with baby at home, I will so grateful to have my life, my body, and my peace of mind back.
On the other hand, I now have a better appreciation and empathy for patients who struggle with chronic illness, who are told they have medical issues, troubles that can’t be diagnosed or treated effectively, who are not listened to or treated well by the medical profession, and who must attend appointment after appointment and try to stay pleasant all the while.
I’ve written before that after struggling with the physical, mental, and emotional effects of infertility before we were blessed with our Eva and Vincent, I never dreamed I would have a third baby years later. I also never imagined that after such a wonderful experience with the one doctor who saw me through those first two amazing pregnancies, this final surprise would be so different.
I’m going to spend these last two weeks trying to stay calm, looking forward to delivery, and then getting on with caring for a newborn and my two other children and letting the experience of the past nine months fade away in time.
Moving forward and beyond is something I love to do, and I’m excited and eager to make 2012 a great year.
So, we’ll have this baby girl in January, and then in the spring I will be launching my first e-book right here on this blog and via Kindle and other e-reader formats. Details on the e-book will come in the following months, but I am extremely excited about this new project. The book is currently in design and editing stages and I know it will be something I’m proud of and that many of my readers will find useful.
Speaking of blog readers; thank you to all for making 2011 a record year on Highliners and Homecomings. It’s been fun reviewing blog statistics, reading your comments, keeping an eye on subscriptions, seeing which posts get the most “hits” and which pictures get clicked on the most, reviewing where traffic is coming from and watching numbers rise.
As we head into the fifth year, I want to sincerely thank you so much for the support and the time you take to come over and see or read what’s new.
The best to you as we start this new year—health and happiness to all.
Someone posted this on Facebook. It's not the most eloquent wording, but I think it's a sentiment worth keeping in mind.
Relying on Grace.
We knew December was going to be a tough month around here; getting ready for the Dungeness crab season, celebrating Eva’s sixth birthday, preparing for Christmas, entering the final weeks of pregnancy, and doing a major bedroom overhaul here at home was never going to be smooth or easy.
Unfortunately, we had no choice but to do everything in four short weeks and it has been as overwhelming and tiring as we anticipated. There have been some highlights; our friend and neighbor’s help with the room switch, Eva’s birthday party turning out better than I’d hoped, and receiving Christmas cards from friends and family have all been little spurts of joy throughout.
I’m probably a little more burned out than usual because I’m on new medication for the last four weeks of this pregnancy that makes me nauseous and tired. Of course, I’ve felt that way from the very beginning so it’s not a real change for me…just that I’d hoped for some relief before the birth.
At one of my three-times-a-week doctor appointments, I finally asked one of the nurses why this pregnancy has been so much more difficult than the others.
Is it my age? Is it the being watched like a hawk by medical staff that’s a spirit-dampener? Is it the mental challenge for someone who doesn’t deal well with surprise or change? Is it from exhaustion having two energetic children already at home? The physical strain of a third pregnancy?
Most likely, it’s all of it. There is really nothing to do but see the rest of these few weeks out with as much grace as possible and hope for the best when it’s time to deliver.
Speaking of which; we still don’t know whether George will be here for the event. As you know, the baby is due on January 25. We finally received word that the official start date for the Dungeness crab season is January 24. For those of you that don’t know, that means they’ll set gear (dump 500 crab pots) about three days before, which is January 21. In order to get to the boat and out to the middle of the ocean, George will leave home on January 19.
My best hope is that the baby up and decides to make her way out by herself on January 15.
We do have an alternate captain scheduled to take the wheel and relieve George for a couple of weeks during the crab season, but George absolutely has to be there for the first setting of 500 crab pots. There are hundreds of thousands of dollars at stake, the safety of crew, and several families with children all depending upon getting the season off to the best financial and safest start possible.
If the crab season had begun when it usually does, around the first of January, George could have set the first critical round of pots, got the season started, and then handed it off to the relief captain and come home for the baby.
However, the season starting so late in the month put a big wrench in that plan. As I said, all I can do is stay calm, have a plan in place, and try to see these last few weeks through with as much grace as I can muster.
I want to take a minute and pay a small blog tribute to my old Southeast Alaska fishing friend, Monte, who passed away suddenly and tragically this week of a heart attack at the age of thirty-two. Upon learning this news, I literally doubled over and sobbed, unable to believe or comprehend what happened. I was sure my eyes were tricking me, that it was some terrible joke or hoax.
Of course, it wasn’t.
Monte, who leaves behind a wife and six-month-old baby, was the sweetest, toughest, kindest, most original character you’d be lucky to know. At his funeral yesterday, I think everyone felt comfort that the music, stories, pictures, and video perfectly captured Monte’s authentic spirit and person. His love of fishing, the outdoors, creativity, wife, baby, friends, and helpful nature were all represented at his final departure from shore.
Rest in peace, dear Monte. You will never be forgotten.
