"Higher Places"

Matteo is constantly on the move... discovering new places and new things everyday. he's climbing the stairs now.. he hears samuel practicing his music up there all day who hopes to go to music school this coming fall.. they're both off to higher places!

"Can't fight the Music"

Samuel is upstairs practicing his saxophone for a recording session tomorrow... I wonder what matteo will play.. he can't escape the music, it's already part of him...

"Meaningful Ramblings"

Matteo Is now "talking". He really seems to know what he's saying. We've been able to make out words in different languages. I'm certain he knows exactly whats he's saying, we're just not sure what language he's speaking at the moment. we're speaking English and Portuguese to him..a little Italian, so I'm not sure where the Mandarin Chinese is coming from... but it doesn't matter..he's a genius!

mayonnaise

Three-ish weeks to go and counting. Samuel was out of the country so long he needed to renew some documents in order to renew his passport. His visa was approved but the passport needed to be valid at least eight months at he interview and it was only six. so we're waiting... something we're getting good at. In the meantime we've started doing some packing...need to be ready to go at a moments notice. Minnesota.. we're on our way. But inthe meantime, I'll leave you with your brazilian phrase of the day: Dormindo na maionese.. "sleeping in the mayonnaise". One can use this when someone is absent-minded. for example..."You're sleeping in the mayonase" I've heard varieties including, "fart in the mayonnaise" as well as "poop in the mayonnaise". Go ahead and try out these new phrases with your friends!
It sounds like the fam is coming back this weekend... I'm not sure how many and for how long...pretty excited to find out.

Matteo's Birth Story

I came to Brazil so be with Samuel when Matteo was born. If Samuel wasn’t here, well, I guess it wouldn’t have chosen to come here to give birth…
After waiting and waiting for Matteo to make his grand appearance, on February 22, I started to feel some goings ons… my water broke around five in the morning and I started having some light cramping. Nothing real strong, so I just rested for most of the day until that evening when the cramping got to be five minuets apart.
When we got to the hospital I signed in and then walked through the double doors to the ward alone which is resticted except for patients only while samuel and mom stayed in the waiting area. I took my place in the line of the plastic chairs ouside the door to the examination room behind a few other women who were waiting to see the doctor. When it was my turn, I asked if Samuel could come in from the waiting area and translate for me. Thankfully they allowed Samuel to come in. At the women's public hospital here in Sao Goncalo, absolutely no one is allowed in except the patient outside of visiting hours..or hour.
She examined me as he explained my water had broken that morning and now I’m having light contractions at 5 minutes apart. Pretty normal. Or so I thought….
It’s funny because my mom had called me before she arrived a few weeks earlier. Said she had done some research on childbirth in Brazil out of curiosity and apparently, a huge percentage of Brazilian women have cesarean births… Its become more of a cultural thing rather than a last resort as in the United States. She told me not to let them pressure me into having a cesarean.. Because I don’t need one. “Oh, mom“. I snorted, “They’re not gonna give me a cesarean“. Plus I didn’t want one. I had no desire to be cut open and a baby yanked out of the incision. I was all up for a natural child birth. I wanted to experience it, to know what everyone meant when they tried to explain what giving birth was like. All the women in my family had natural healthy uncomplicated births and without pain medication. There was no reason I was gonna be an exception.
“We need to operate now“. Said the doctor shaking her head as she snapped off her gloves. “She needs a cesarean”.
“Ah, no I don’t”.
“No she doesn’t” Samuel repeated to the doctor.
“Yes, she does”. Insisted the doctor.
“She says you do”.
We spent a good amount of time arguing, I was in tears and exhausted. She refused to let me have a natural childbirth. She said it was too dangerous… dangerous? More like a little inconvenient for you to wait on someone to go through labor. Why not just cut her open? Her reasoning was that my water had broken more than twelve hours ago and I wasn’t dialated enough and there was risk of infection for the baby. Okay… somehow I missed all that in all the books I read and the wealth of information I went though on the internet. She said if I wanted a natural childbirth, I’d have to find another hospital. At that point, I really didn’t feel like running around the city to find another hospital only for them to possibly tell me the same thing.
Fine.. Do it. I said exasperated, taking a big swig of water. “No”! everyone shouted together. What do I know about surgery? Well, if I’d known I wouldn’t have eaten that big plate of pasta a couple hours before hand either. A few minutes later, a nurse came and whisked me away. I waved goodbye to Samuel and my mom (no one is allowed in the delivery room either) as they disappeared around the couner. The nurse led me to a long room filled with women in labor, in recovery or on bed rest. She showed me to my bed, with no sheets or blankets or pillows.. I knew nothing about the hospitals in Sao Goncalo. I didn’t realize I had to bring all my own things.. Sheets, soap.. absolutely everything. She had me strip down and put on a hospital gown, which they did provide, and left me there. I quick whipped out my ’Mayo Clinic’s Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy” I had in my purse and flipped open to the minuscule section on cesarean births. Might as well study up real quick before they come get me, I knew nothing about cesareans. After a few minuets she came back for me. It is time. A couple nurses led me by the arms to the operating room. “Ah.. Americana! Obama.. Ele e bonito! Ela gosta de Obama”.
The surgery it’s self went very smoothly. They obviously knew what they were doing. Lots and lots of practice I suppose. They did an epidermal block on me which left the whole bottom half of my body totally numb and lifeless. All I felt was some tugging and pressure. The anesthesiologist was friendly and spoke good English which was comforting. I couldn’t see anything that they were doing because of the sheet they put up, but at a certain point, I felt a lot of pressure and a really strange surging feeling. I gasped and grabbed the poles on either side of me. He assured me it was normal. Good. A few seconds later, I heard little sniffles and a soggy little baby with the umbilical cord hanging appeared from around sheet.. “Oh, he has hair….” I said to no one. And he disappeared again.
They stitched me up and slid me onto a stretcher and wheeled me back into the room amongst the crowd of women. I was then heaved me awkwardly onto the bed as I grabbed at the mattress with my elbows so I wouldn’t fall. Well, there you go. And they left me. In the meantime Samuel had dropped off some sheets and pillow and they were next to the bed, but I was feeling a little out of it to think how to ask in Portuguese for someone to hand them to me so I stuffed my bag under my head and laid there. All alone. I couldn’t feel my legs. Hum. What just happened? Did I just have a baby? I felt my abdomen. Yep, empty. Where is he? I didn’t even get to touch him. Now what? Visiting hours weren’t until 3pm the next day. So I just laid there, numb from the waist down and tried to sleep.
The next morning a doctor came in. “Bom dia maninas”. Good morning girls. She around and took our vitals. There were about fifteen other women sharing the room. Don’t look at my catheter sack! Every so often a nurse would come in with the list a names and do a call off. “Aqui”! Here! Dayanee kat..katee…Kalee..Katin…? That’s probably me. And I’d raise my hand from my place. They’d then pass out pills and food. Did you have a cesarean or normal? A cesarean, oh, can you eat yet? I don’t know, can I? can I get up? Can someone tell me something? A nurse came to take my pressure. Ah….meu filho? My son? Quando?
Apparently they wanted to run some tests on him so I didn’t get hold him until that day. About noon a nurse came in and handed me a little baby. The fuzziest little baby I’d ever seen. Well, there you go. And she left. I sat there alone in my bed surrounded by the buzzing of the talking of all other women in the room. Ah, hello. It was like meeting a little stranger for the first time. Is this really mine? The girls in the beds on either side of me told me how cute he was. He spit up and pooped...Ah... what was that I'm suppose to do now? Thankfully one of the girls on who was there on bed rest came to help.
Finally three o'clock came and the room suddenly filled which what seemed like a hundred people all talking excitedly. Samuel and mom came to my bedside and we finally got to be together as a little family for the first time. "He's beautiful"!! we shouted to eachother over the talking of all the other people.

The pain medication started wearing off the third day. I hurt soo bad but I was so extremely anxious to leave. I did my best to hold myself to seem normal I was afraid they’d make me stay if they knew how bad I hurt. I thought I was going to die. My insides felt like they were going to fall out. Really. But when they gave the go ahead, I was ready. I did try asking one of the nurses if it was normal to hurt like this. Yes. Oh, okay. Any other instruction? anyone? I guess you're just suppose to know these things. Stupid me.
We signed out and I slowly shuffled out the door and back into the 100 degree weather. We got into a taxi and made our way to the apartment, cringing at every little bump along the way.
But we made it and little matteo is alive and healthy. Thats all that matters. I've healed up nicely as well along with a cool looking scar. Ha. However, You'll probably find me in Minnesota for my next childbirth.

I need some fresh air...

well, Samuel's mother, aunt, sister, niece, cousin and her kids went to his sister's house for the weekend leaving samuel, his dad, matteo and his niece's two hamsters, bird and myself "alone" in our two bedroom 4th floor apartment for a bit. It got to be a little crowded i must say, especially for the fact that you cant just step outside for some FRESH air. Once you get outside its onto a busy dusty exahsty street with crazy drivers. Its not good to leave the window open for long periods because it faces the street and that dirty air comes in and forms a layer of dust... but then if we dont leave it open, mildew forms on things because of the warm, moist air caused by drying clothes and sheets in the windows because theres no place or way to dry them. Am impossible situation. On a possitive note, Pedro and Marina are back together in "insensato coracao". Right now the Golobo Repoter, pronounced Hey-po-tayr is on tv.. they're doing a special on the fests of june, festivals that go on all june and the rest of the winter.. here winter is june, july and august... festivals which we are not partaking in this year...cuz we have no car, no money and a little baby. they look pretty though. Needless to say, i'm ready to go home... which will be very soon hopefully. just need this stupid police certificate thing from Italy and find a traslator. but anyway.. yeah..uh..just heard the toilet flush a third time...fourth...these pull string toilets dont have a of umpf. no toilet paper in the toilet.. or big terds for that matter.. you'll be in there all night flushing. believe me.

brazilian fluff

so, since little matteo is a brazilian citizen as well as american, he needs both passports, the brazilian to leave brazil and american to enter america. this morning, after fighting with the stroller to get on and off buses, searching for a caixa to pay the fee while trying to keep matteo happy, we finally arrived at the federal police station to register for his passport. Unfortunately, we got there too late.. apparently they only do ten people a day. sigh..."that sucks", I thought. "AAHHHH!!! %*!@!! A COUNTRY FILLED WITH IDIOTS!! AH! #*&@"!! Samuel shouted. so we sadly wandered into the center of Niteroi, a lovely the city across the bay from Rio. As I pushed Matteo along attempting to avoid potholes and listening to Samuel's lamenting, I spotted a guy selling some sort of white fluff from his cart... I wanted white fluff. I inturrupted samuel to asked what it was. cuscuz. tapioca balls covered in coconut shavings and drizzled with sweetened condensed milk. very nice. so that was the good part of the day. white fluff.

I liked the floor

Ahhh... something wonderful happened this morning.. the tank was installed.. we have a complete toilet..and it the most beautiful toilet I've ever SAT on. Thought I would share that.
So anyway changing the subject.... Here in Brazil, everyone goes to church in the evening.. I figure because starting about 10am it starts getting hot.. no one wants to be sitting in the service all hot and sweaty in their nice church clothes. It starts cooling off a little around 5 or 6 in the evening and services start about 7pm. It felt a little strange at first, but then, at the same time, it feels special. It's like going out for a special evening.. it's a time to dress up beautiful and elegant.. and the Brazilian women do take advnantage of this. Sunday night the streets of Sao Goncalo are filled with church-goers..spilling out of churches from every corner. A while ago there was a very strong evangelical movement in Brazil, and now you can find churches everywhere! In places you'd neverthink to look.. in garages, in houses, in warehouses, in deserted buildings... they range in sizes from 10 attendents to hundreds.
Last night we decided to attend one where a musician friend takes part in the worship team. We've visited several in the area, but there's always so much abrasive yelling or boring music. This time I was pleasently surprised. It fit about 20 to 30 people. The little brick building was partially open but protected by a tin roof. I especially liked floor which consisted of a mosaic of broken tiles differing in all shapes sizes and colors. I found myself staring at the ground most of the time. It was a small enough group that some of the women passed out cafezinho in delcate little porcline cup and saucers.. along with the tiniest little stiring spoon i've ever used..they got me right there.
Samuel played with the worship team. He's been practicing his sax like crazy. He's so good, and I think he's always getting better, especially the high notes which he's really been focusing in on. Anyone he plays with is lucky. I can see him coming to America and playing with great musicians and singers from around the world..doing concerts for great crowds and in stadiums.. Then think back on times like this in humble little churches.
The woman who gave the message came up to me after the sevice and asked if she could pray for me. Sure, why not. Prayer nver hurt anyone. she laid her hand gently on the shoulder and prayed for Gods blessing and comfort over me then for Samuel and Little Matteo. Then she said, when I was praying, I felt that you feel a little sad in your heart. Maybe because you are a long ways away from your family and country and its a little hard durng this time. but you can know that you have friends here.
How sweet. I suppose that is kind of true.. I did come here to be near Samuel when I had the baby, that was important to me. But now Matteo is here. And I didnt realize it would be so hard and frustrating not to be close to everyone over there now. He's already three months and no one from my family has even gotten to hold him.. except Mom... and he's growing really quick. I'm really looking forward to getting back for that reason. I'm looking for things to do to distract myself in this time before we get there. Trying to look for all the good happy beautiful things.. and when you look for something, you start seeing it in places you wouldnt have before. Like the ground? I really liked that floor.

Toilet Situation

Samuel finally recieved his letter from the united states visa center or whatever its called, informing him that they are ready for final processing and now he needs to gather all these documents and forms before his big interview at the american consulate on July 5th! its then when they decide if they want to give him the visa... which would allow him to come to the United States...the "promise land". Its been quite the process. its been a lot of waiting and stressing. At this point it seems to close, yet so far away.. there are so many things to do before his interview.. including collecting some documents from Italy.. which could take a while. We had hadnt realized how expensive this would end up to be with all the fees and payments involved. To make matters worse suddenly three of his studnts quit, all at the same time..i wish i could work or do something, but i have to take care of matteo.. plus my portoghese sucks. Looking back on this little adventure, which has taken us across three continents, it makes me think of our toilet... you know, in the sense that when it gets hard and seems like the end, you have nothing left, it can only get better.. usually. let me explain....

When I first got here to this apartment, it had been empty for several years before samuel got there a couple months before me, so not everything was at its best, including the toilet. It wasnt terrible, the seat was just a little lose and to flush it you had to pull a string someone had attatched inside the tank, hold it until the water had gone, then let it go...otherwise it worked fine. Sometime later, his brother came for a visit before returning to italy, he thought he'd be helpful and attempt to fix the flushing function. but instead, the toilet situation worsened and now it was leaking and had no more pullcord. but oh well, at least it still flushed.. until another member of the family stopped by.. after that, it no longer flushed so we had to fill up a bucket of water and dump it down the toilet after we used it. a little while later, someone tried fixing the problem, but ended up dropping the lid to the tank on the seat and cracking the toilet bowel. so now, we could no longer sit on the toilet, and we had t0 dump the water after use.. not to mention it was starting to get smelly. at this point, I thought it would be better just to have a hole in the floor. Well, the yesterday morning i heard a lot of goings ons in the bathroom.. and when i looked.. there was no toilet.. just a whole in the ground.. huh... well, at least I can squat instead of that awkward hovering. With a heavy heart, I headed out the door to use the bathroom at the ground floor enternce to apartment complex. I guess it cant get much worse from here. I was right, because later that day, samuel's father showed up with a new toilet... theres still no tank, but i know its on its way. Little by little the toilet situation is improving, and when it's finished, when we get to the end of thing, I will be better than it was before and everything will be super...right?
So anyway, that was my connection..

I'm in Brazil and under construction

this fancy little blog is under constuction.. when its completed, it will be the most beautiful blog.. in all the land! Muhaha...ha. I wanted to start upthis blog again, after a little pause.. of over a year. since then, I've finished my art restoration studies in florence, Italy... married Samuel, am in Brazil and our son, Matteo was born in febuary.... will fill in details later....

I wrote this a couple nights ago...

So, here I am, we've just finished watching our favorite novella (soap opera), insensato coracao (insensitive heart).. It's getting good. Brazilian soap operas are great, theres so many. Another favorite is Morde e assporte. It involves a hot robot woman and dinosaurs. Its amazing how they are able to combine just the right elements to make it seem so strangely right..and heart wrenching. and addictive. So it's become a ritual. every night. I have to make sure to tell samuel when it starts.. and we'll watch it with his dad... brazilian men are funny. Ah, i'm tired.. tired of doing nothing really. I'm looking forward to getting home where i'll have space to do some painting and resotation projects... and just have space in general i guess... it gess a little crowded in this apartment where samuel and I, and his parents.. and matteo are staying. And not to mention introduce my husband and son to my family... I'm about to go crazy waiting. but theres nothing we can really do to make the visa process go any faster. So I need to find ways of staying sane and enjoying the rest of my time here in sao Goncalo, Brazil.. my son's birthplace.. which is slightly different from my homeland.... Minnesota, hail to thee.
Matteo is sleeping, Samuel went to a birthday party. Despite the fact that Brazilian birthday parties are not to be missed, I decided not to attend tonight. mostly for Matteo's sake.. I get kinda nervous riding in cars here. They drive like maniacs. What else can I say? On the way from the airport on my arrival here, our driver asked samuel, while weaving in and out of traffic, to tell me to pray in my language that we would arrive safely at our destination. Ah...gladly. "Dear Lord.....", I started, "please don't let us die". He had stitched on his nose from an accident he was in a few weeks earlier. I thought I had to stay on my toes while living in Florence, but the Cariocas, those from Rio de Janeiro, make the Florentines look like Minnesotans, which says alot.