For Patty

I recently found out my blog is actually read by more people than those who merely "follow" me. A quick call to my former place of employment revealed I have an avid reader I didn't know about.

In honour of her keen interest in the minutia that is my life, I have written a blog entry solely for her.

The rest of you are welcome to read, too!

I have very fond memories of working with Patty. Nearly every morning, her big red minivan would pull up in front of my apartment in Barry's Bay, and I would fly out, often late, in a style once termed by my brother as "the least coordinated bat out of hell."

Thereupon Patty and I would get into discussions about everything from my wedding planning -- as I was engaged at the time -- to parenting, to my weird choices in breakfast. I think she was most repulsed by the hummus with chipotle peppers on an English muffin.

Patty always tells it like it is. It's because of her honesty that I was able to talk openly with her about the tragic circumstances of my cousin's death, a horrible event which took place just days before my wedding. At the time, I had to put on a brave face; a grieving bride just isn't "done". Similarly, I tried my best not to let it hit me over the course of our honeymoon, even though I knew Patrick would understand if it had. So arriving back in Barry's Bay was when it began to sink in.

Patty was perfect to talk to about this. She had no judgements, no assumptions on how I "should" feel. Just empathy and frankness.

Only a few weeks after this, I called in sick for rather unusual symptoms -- a queasy stomach, faintness and this terrible need for sleep. It seemed like a weird flu or something, but I had never felt this way before.

The next day when I relayed how I felt, she suggested I might be pregnant. The though had crossed my mind, and I was delighted... and yet, overwhelmed. So I kept Patty in the loop as I awaited a reasonable date to take a pregnancy test.

The morning I was supposed to take it, I woke up before 6, excited, nervous and not sure what to expect. My symptoms had gone from "vaguely flu-like" to more and more "with child" so I was hoping and praying that I really was pregnant. The test, of course, was positive. Patrick and I both wept and thanked God and ate a celebratory breakfast.

Then I had to leave for work. How anti-climactic. I had the most awesome news in the world, and I wanted to tell everyone. Or no one... and have some special secret between just me and my husband for the time being.

My indecision about talking about it or not was decided for me, however, when Patty pulled up to get me. "So, did you pee on your stick?" she asked, in typical blunt fashion. And so I told her; what else could I do?

So there you have it. Patty, you were the first person besides Patrick to know about Noah. I think that makes you his fairy godmother or something.