One of the first things Cindy did when she find out that she was pregnant was to start to find a name.

She threw a lot of names to me, but no one was sticking in my head.

Because of Cindy’s leukemia and her 23 blood transfusions she had 10 years ago, we knew it was going to be a high-risk pregnancy.

Friday, after the 4th time we where back from the emergency room because of the pregnancy, Cindy started to urge me to agree on a name.

Saturday, she gave me a final notice. I had until midnight to decide between Victor, for “victoire” (victory) and Vincent, for “vainqueur” (winner/conqueror). Those names where meant to be a reminder for his struggle for life and our desire to see him alive.

We went to bed without a name.

Sunday morning, Cindy wakes up with cramps and a lot of vaginal bleeding. I had to rush her to the hospital. Again. The problem was that we were supposed to move in our new apartment the same day. The truck and the mover where going to be at my parents’ cottage at 10h30, and someone had to be there to take care of that. By some kind of luck, her father was in town. He lives in Abitibi, 10 hours from Quebec City.

I dropped them both at the hospital. While they are walking away from the car, I open the door of the car and I shout: “VICTOR!!”. I then drove to the cottage.

An hour latter, my cellphone ring. Léon, Cindy’s father, has an emotional tone.

“Come back to the hospital. There will be no baby. We are going to lose him”.

I ask my father to take care of the movers. “We are going to lose the baby”

My father looks for something to hold to not fall.

“I just had a chill from at the bottom of my spine,” he tells me.

And then it’s my mother to hear about it. She doesn’t say a thing. She just puts her hand over her mouth with her eyes wide open. Just like if she have seen a ghost.

I jump into my car and drive back to the hospital.

Less than 30 minutes later, I’m in the room.

Léon comes to me while a nurse talk to my panicked Cindy. His eyes are red and humid.

He quickly briefs me: they will have to take the baby out soon.

I go see Cindy. She cries and cries and cries. She shouts. “No! No! I can’t! I don’t want to! I did not want them to deliver it before you would be there. Every nurse and doctor that came into the room, I shout at them to not touch me before you would be there”

Now that I was there, the nurse came to see if Cindy was ready to deliver. After several minutes of denial, she said yes. It’s at this moment that Vicky arrived. She is her cousin and lost 3 babies, all of them just 2 weeks before the delivery. She was going to be a precious help.

The doctor arrived and set up his thing. She did not had to push too long, Victor was out with a lot of cries from everyone.

Victor was still alive and lived for one hour. They ask us if we wanted to see and take him. We agreed.

We took pictures and we had him with us for several hours. While he was still alive, we saw him move is legs, his arms, and open his mouth. He fought a hopeless fight for his life for an hour. Nothing could be done to save him at 19 weeks.

I know, it might sound very morbid for most of you. That is what I though too at first. Now, the doctors strongly encourage the families to take as long as they need with the baby. They will never take it away: it will be to the mother - and the father - to decide when they are ready to leave him. It really helps to goes through the process of accepting the death of the baby.

35 years ago, my mother lost a baby at 20 weeks, just like us. At that time, it was not the same. She begged and cried to see the baby, but they did not want her to see it. 35 years later, her grievance was not complete. Sunday, she looked at Victor and held him for a while. She said that it really helped her for what she went through back then.

I could tell you all about the tears we had and the tears to come, the sleepless night we just went through at the hospital and everything else. But I guess this is not the point of this post.

I however really want to stress out how much the nurses helped us. Nathalie and Réjeanne are the two most empathic persons I ever met. I was there for Cindy, to hold her and listen to her. But there is no way I could listen and talk to her like they did.  A calm, reassuring voice, with gentle touch and stroke. They really know what they are doing. Each time they talked to her, she quickly went from panicked cry to... to... Well, not to “party mode”, but you get the point.  

For those of you back there in Windsor, if you ever need an OB, I strongly suggest you to go see Doctor Rahi Victory on Princess Street in Leamington. He his one of the best doctor we stumble into, both on the medical and humane side. Thank you Dr. Victory for everything you did for us.

Today is moving day. But today is also the day where we have to rush Cindy for the fifth time to the emergency room for complications with her pregnancy. God!

Truck and movers rented: check
Internet ordered: check
Phone ordered: check
Cable ordered: check

We are moving Sunday.

A superb photo essay by Brendan Corr on the supertanker being disassembled in Bangladesh.

Culture is what you remember when you forgot everything.

I read that sentence one and I really liked it.

Most people in Canada think that Quebec and the rest of Canada are two distinct cultures because we speak different languages. It’s so not that.

Culture is a million of little things that you do because the society you live in teach you so. Even if it has absolutely no sense.

Why do we shake hand?
Why it is impolite to point someone with aour finger?
Why it is impolite to eat with our fingers?
Why it is not in certain part of the world?

I fully realized that tonight during a funny moment at the videostore. I went to rent a movie and I bumped into my cousin and his girlfriend. We chat for a while and we eventually go back to our own business. I shake my cousin’s hand while I say “see ya”, and then I try to reach his girlfriend’s hand to shake it. But at the same time, she tries to reach my cheek with her lips. In a really awkward move, I shake her hand and kiss her at the same time.

A year outside of Quebec almost made me forget that here we don’t shake the hand of girl we know. We kiss her on each of her cheeks.

Strange.

**

And while I’m at it, here is a funny moment that happened during my farewell party in Windsor.

Amanda, Sonja and David, three interning reporter that I made friend with, gave me a gift for the baby. That was really nice of them.

I ask them if I could thank them “the French Canadian way”.

I kissed Amanda on her cheeks.

I kissed Sonja on her cheeks.

Suddenly, David became very nervous.

I reached his hand and shaked it.

“Oh! Thanks men”, he tells me with a relieved look.

“Hey! I said ‘The french canadian way’. Not the RUSSIAN way”

We finally have an apartment. Since we are back in Quebec City, Cindy and I live at my parent’s house. Our quest for an apartment, that allowed me to have a second ticket in my second week back into Quebec, came to an end today.

We rented something on Cartier Street. La Rue Cartier is a trendy street in the upper part of the city. It’s a neat commercial street with everything close by. Think 17th Avenue in Calgary, 82 Av in Edmonton, or Kensington Market in Toronto.

I know, it’s a bit of a stretch to compare Cartier to the Market, but you get the idea.

We will move in next weekend, or the one after.

What the Duck is an online comic strip about photography. It’s really funny and, obviously, the guy is or was a working photojournalist.

 

Today’s strip remind me Cindy’s horror story with Wal-Mart

Friday, 8 pm. And I'm tired like if it would be noon. I had to get out of the bed a 6 this morning for my first photo job in Quebec City. I got into a Canadian Force Griffon Helicopter to get aerial picture of the Canadian Frigate HMCS Fredericton arriving in Quebec City.

God, it was fun! Sadly, the weather was not cooperative with a cloudy sky and a lot of fog. On a Sunny day, the light would have been perfect with a soft 9 am sun falling exactly from the perfect angle. Despite that,  I manage to get some decent picture.

What is even better is that Monday morning, I board the ship as she leave Quebec City to Montreal. I will document the life into a ship for the 11 hours travel. Neat!

Sooooo... Yes, I'm back in Quebec City. Last Friday, we left Windsor en route to Belleville where we still had an apartment. Saturday, we pack the boxes and filled the Uhaul truck which I had to get in Kingston - 1 hour away from Belleville. Sunday Morning, we drove back to Quebec. Near Montreal, The highway turn into an urban boulevard. A nice trap to set a speed trap, isn't? Well, the Sureté du Quebec (Quebec Provincial police) tought so. Bang! $180. That include $40 of fee and $10 of "contribution"!!??

Welcome back to Quebec.

Tuesday morning was my first day back at my old job. For those who do not know me personally and read this blog for not a long time, I left a job as webmaster for the Naval Reserve Headquarter in Quebec City to go back to School at Loyalist College in Belleville, Ontario. I took a one year sabbatical leave, so my job was secured if I wanted to come back. That was not really the plan, but I now have to secure some money because of the baby.

I guess that's pretty much it for today!

I'm back in Quebec City. I'm planning to post a longer text on the last 5 days or so (my last day at the job, my farewell party, our move, etc), but I just wanted to drop you a note on something.

At 10pm tonight, just before going to bed, Cindy and I went to Chez Ashton for a real French Canadian poutine. My first in months! What a relief!

I had a lot of discussion with my friend out of the province about poutine. I told them about my quest to find a good poutine outside of Quebec. I never succeeded. They kept asking my why the Ontarian and Albertan poutines are not in the same league as the Quebec's poutine. Actually, they are just not good. It's really hard to explain. But just have a look at a picture I took last winter on a previous trip back to Quebec. Don't you just crave for it just by LOOKING at it?

Anyway. Just with the first bite, I thought "god, I missed it!"