The Best and The Worst

I'm here! As I said in my last post, I'm now at my mom's house, where I'll be staying until a couple of months after the baby's birth. Things didn't go quite according to plan--when the last post posted, I was not somewhere over the Atlantic; I was still at the gate in Frankfurt--but eventually I made it. I don't think anyone is particularly interested in a play-by-play of the entire trip, so I'm just going to give you the best and the worst. I'll start with the worst so we can end on a good note.

The Worst

• I had to leave my husband and my cats behind.
• My 24-hour door-to-door trip turned into 31-1/2 hours.
• We were stuck at the gate in Frankfurt for 3 hours while they fixed the cabin air conditioner and tried to find the part to fix some other problem (I forget what it was) before eventually deciding that it would be okay for us to fly with the part broken; we'd just have to go a longer route. It added about 10 minutes to our flight time.
• I missed my connecting flight at Dulles, which was scheduled to take off at about the same time we ended up landing there. It was delayed 30 minutes, but that still wasn't enough time to clear customs and immigration and get to the gate.
• All the later flights to my destination airport were full. So were the later flights to the airport that's the same distance from my hometown in the opposite direction. (Our town is less than an hour from one tiny and one small airport, so we usually go with whichever one is cheaper at the time. It also allows for great flexibility in situations like this, unless the flights are all full.)
• I ended up taking a later flight to an airport that's 90 minutes from my mom's house.
• That flight was scheduled to leave approximately 5 hours after I arrived at Dulles. Due to a mechanical issue, it was delayed an hour.
• Throughout the entire day, a muscle in my gluteus maximus spasmed every time I put weight on it. Therefore, standing and walking was a slow and painful experience.
• The business class lounge at the Cairo airport was closed; there wasn't time in Frankfurt; and I was no longer business class in Washington. So quite possibly my only chance to experience a business class lounge has escaped me.
• I was still dealing with congestion, drainage, and general nastiness from my cold.
• My ankles currently are about the size of tennis balls, maybe slightly larger. They were twice as big early Tuesday morning when I arrived here.

The Best

• I managed not to cry, although it was difficult.
• My Tempur-pedic travel pillow went a long way toward making all the seats, in the airports and the planes, much more comfortable. Depending on the seat, I used it rolled up or flattened out behind my back every time I sat for more than just a few minutes.
• Business class in the Lufthansa flight between Cairo and Franfurt was nice. I was able to put my feet up, although there weren't independent controls for the footrest and the back, so I couldn't get my feet as high as I wanted without reclining too far for Alexa's safety. I was able to compensate by getting onto my side--the seat wasn't quite wide enough for it to be truly comfortable, thanks to the belly, but it was a lot better than economy or than sitting there without my feet up. I slept for most of the flight, so it was comfortable enough. Service was only marginally better than it would have been in economy, although Lufthansa's economy service is much better than any other airline's that I've experienced.
• Business class in the United flight between Frankfurt and Dulles was wonderful, even considering the extra 3 hours I spent there. The seats could recline all the way back like a bed, they could recline like a recliner, or I could adjust the back and the footrest independently. I only slept for a couple of hours, although the seat was comfortable enough to sleep longer--the sleep on the previous flight was enough that my stubborn body wasn't ready to sleep more yet. I could watch any of a few dozen movies or TV shows whenever I wanted, and I could pause, fast forward, and rewind them too. I had my choice of meals--I chose the filet mignon for the first and the turkey sandwich for the second. The first meal (the second was considered a snack) was three courses--appetizers (yes, that's plural), main course (choice of beef, chicken, or pasta), and dessert (an incredible chocolate mousse parfait-type concoction with strawberry sauce, or fruit ... guess which one I chose). The service was incredible. One of the flight attendants took one look at my belly and made me her personal project--I was never without water, I was told to use the first class lavatory rather than waiting in line for the business class one, I was given the option--repeatedly--to go to cooler areas of the plane before the air conditioner was fixed (it really wasn't even that hot), and I was generally hovered and fussed over. The other flight attendants also were incredibly attentive, but I think they provided that level of service to all the business class passengers. If anyone is traveling overseas on a United flight, the upgrade is totally worth it, if finances allow.
• I didn't have to overnight in Frankfurt, although that option was offered to me by the gate attendant, who came down to ask how I was doing. The only time that my personal flight attendant seemed confident that I was doing just fine, thank you very much, was when the gate attendant tried to take me off the plane and away from her. Suddenly I went from practically invalid status to perfectly okay. I got the feeling she didn't trust him to take good enough care of me.
• When the maintenance issue was discovered at Dulles, it was less than 10 minutes before they announced exactly what the problem was (I forget now, but they told us), that the plane could fly but required a longer runway on which to land, that our destination airport didn't have a functional runway long enough (the long one was being worked on), and that we therefore were swapping planes with another flight heading to an airport with a runway that the broken plane could use. No 3-hour decision-making process there!
• I didn't have to overnight in Dulles. I was able to make it here, although it was a very long day. I think it woud have been worse if I'd had to overnight somewhere, even though it would have allowed me to sleep sooner.
• I'm here safely.

So there you have it--the best and the worst. Since I've been here, I've pretty well been taking it easy. I'm trying to drink lots of water and keep my feet up to bring the swelling down. On the bright side, the swelling actually is about the same as it usually is for me after this trip--I expected it to be worse because of the pregnancy, but apparently it helped that I was able to have my feet up most of the time until I got to Dulles. At some point soon, I'll finish unpacking (I've unpacked my stuff but not Alexa's stuff), go through the boxes that have arrived (things we shipped and things that were shipped from our online registry), do some ironing (that I should have done in Cairo but just threw in the suitcase unironed instead), and make a list of things I need to buy. But for now, I think I'm going to sit here with my water and my mom's laptop (mine is having internet issues right now), keep my feet up, and catch up on reading the blogs I've missed in the last few days.

Going Home

If I've done the math right, I will be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean as this blog posts. I'm going home to the United States for the summer. This will be the first time that I've left Jeff for any significant amount of time since we married--three weeks for job training used to count as significant, but not anymore, not with this separation looming over us. I have mixed feelings about going.

On the one hand, it will be good to be home. It will be good to spend time with my family, to see my niece and nephews who have all changed so much over the last year, to get to know my little nephew who was born just before we left and who was too little during our visit last year to remember me. It will be good to shop at familiar American stores, to eat at my favorite restaurants, to live again in a community that is heavily influenced by Christianity. To understand the language spoken around me. It especially will be good to know that I'm in the place where, if it's needed, my daughter can receive the best medical care in the world--I realized not too long ago that if she were to be born prematurely, on that very day, in America, my daughter would have a hard fight ahead of her, but she probably would win it; if she were born even now in Egypt, she probably would die. From that day forward, I've been ready to step on a plane.

But on the other hand ... I'm going to be away from my husband for over a month before he's able to come for the birth, unless something unexpected happens. I won't see my cats--don't laugh! they're my fur babies, sweet little souls who are part of my family!--for four months. There are other aspects of life in Egypt that I'll miss, but not so much that I can't bear it. But I hate the thought that my husband won't see my belly grow or feel the increasing strength of Alexa's kicks, that my cats won't understand why I'm suddenly gone, that I won't be here to take care of my family. Even after Alexa's birth, Jeff will be with us for such a short time before he has to come back without us, while we wait for her medical clearance and all the paperwork to get her added to our orders and get her passport and visa. We're all going to miss out during this separation: Jeff, me, Alexa, Isis, and Cleo.

It doesn't help that Jeff and I both have been sick this week. Jeff has something going on with his inner ear, so he's experiencing vertigo--he has medicine that's supposed to take the edge off the symptoms, but it isn't doing much good, and the doctor says that his body basically has to deal with the problem itself. I've been fighting off a cold and finally admitted defeat last night. On the positive side, we've had more time together, since Jeff hasn't been able to work much. On the negative side, we've both wanted to do nothing but sleep. I'm not even finished preparing the freezer meals I want to leave for him--I still have a casserole, a double batch of macaroni and cheese, and a total of four batches (two singles and a double) of meatloaf to make, although I've already made the lasagna and more batches of chili than I care to think about. I still have so much to do (cooking, ironing, getting stuff together from all over the apartment, then packing on Sunday) ... and all I want to do is go back to bed.

This is turning into a downer. I've always been that way--more likely to be down when I'm tired, which is definitely the case this week. Time to look on the bright side. Everything that has to get done will get done, and the rest of it is probably not as important as I'm making it. I will be away from Jeff and the cats for way too long, but I'll have all that time with my extended family--parents, brother, sister, niece and nephews, the in-laws; I'll even get to see a grandmother, cousin, and maybe an aunt or two. I'll be able to do the needed shopping in air conditioned stores, with air conditioned transportation to and from them. My baby will be born in an environment where, even if things don't go according to the plan we have for her, things are incredibly likely to turn out well. I'll be staying with my mother for the first six to eight weeks of Alexa's life, a time when I'm sure to need and want her help more than ever. While I'm home, I'll get to attend, even be a bridesmaid in, my brother's wedding (assuming we can figure out the correct dress size and get it in time--the wedding's just two months after my guess date and I have no idea what size I'll be then). And even if I am dealing with sinus issues while I fly on Monday, at least I'll be dealing with them from the comfort of a business class seat--my first time ever in business class; thank you to my hubby for upgrading me!--rather than from a small, uncomfortable economy class seat.

As they say, every cloud has a silver lining, and when I think about it, I realize that this one really is more lining than cloud. The cloud is a doozy for someone who's philosophically and emotionally opposed to leaving her husband (and not fond of the idea of leaving her cats either!), but there is a lot of lining. Now to just focus on that ...

Pregnancy Update

It's been a couple of weeks since I last posted anything here--sorry about that. I'd like to say it's because things have been busy, but ... it isn't. It's because I've been so tired that I really haven't been doing much to write about. But there has been a little going on with the pregnancy, so I decided to update you about that anyway.

At my regular prenatal appointment a week and a half ago, my nurse asked all the standard questions, including "Have you been experiencing any pain?" The short answer to that question this time was yes, although there was nothing that I thought was unusual or problematic. However, it's always safer to report it all and let the doctor decide, so that's what I did. I was right about the hip and thigh pain that I've been experiencing for over a month now--that's normal, and it's normal for it to be worse at night than during the day. But that isn't the only pain I've experienced. I've also experienced a little bit of abdominal pain, mostly when I'm wiggling around in bed at night trying to get comfortable or when I reach for something on the top shelf in my kitchen cabinets. This pain also struck me as normal--after all, my abdominal muscles are under a lot of strain right now, so it makes sense to me that any use or stretching of them may be enough to push them over the edge into soreness or even a momentary acute pain. My nurse practitioner largely agreed with me, but she looked a little doubtful. She said that pain like that was unusual, and unusual is a little concerning, so she wanted me to go see a local OB just to make sure everything was okay.

We made that trip last week. Long story short, everything is fine. There is no indication that anything at all is wrong, other than that I may be a little dehydrated. Both my nurse practitioner and the OB emphasized that, especially now that I've started having a few Braxton Hicks pressure waves, which can be magnified by dehydration. The OB, Dr. Nevine, also recommended that I start taking Cal-Mag, a calcium supplement, in addition to the prenatal vitamins that I was already taking. That made sense to me, as I regularly realize that I've gone all day without eating or drinking much of anything that has a lot of calcium in it--I try so hard to make sure that I drink enough water (which means that I often drink nothing but water, drink it constantly even when I'm not thirsty, and still end up with signs of dehydration) that I don't drink much milk.

Dr. Nevine also palpated my abdomen and informed me that Alexa currently is transverse. That means that she's lying across my abdomen; instead of being head up (fully breech) or head down (in the proper birthing position), her head is on one side and she's lying against my cervix. It isn't a problem at this point; most babies turn sometime between weeks 32 and 38, and I'm just now at week 31. She'll probably turn into the proper birthing position on her own, but if she doesn't, my OB in the States may be able to turn her manually later on. I actually was happy to hear that she's transverse, just because that's how I felt like she was laying. It would have been disconcerting to be told that she was up-and-down when I could have sworn that I felt her more side-to-side. But it will be nice when she gets herself into the birthing position--if she were to stay transverse until time for her birth, that would be an automatic cesarian section, which I'd much rather avoid.

In other pregnancy news, I've started doing a home study course for natural childbirth. It's a 5-week course with weekly reading and daily practice. I have not been good about doing the practice, which is why I'm not keeping to the 5-week schedule so well--I keep realizing that it's time to read another lesson but I haven't done my practicing. The course I'm using is Hypnobabies. I was very skeptical of it at first, and I'm still skeptical of some of its claims, but overall I think it will be a good method for me. I don't think of it as self-hypnosis (although it turns out that there actually is some research out there indicating that people can be trained to use self-hypnosis for effective pain relief) so much as I think of it as teaching myself not to be afraid of childbirth and to relax deeply.

The idea is that fear causes the release of adrenaline and increased muscle tension. Increased muscle tension can stall labor, as the uterine muscle fibers that have kept the cervix closed during pregnancy tense up and refuse to be drawn out of the way by the uterine muscle fibers that are trying to open the cervix for birth. Increased muscle tension causes the experience of pain as these muscles work against each other. So it's important for a woman not only to not be afraid, but to be able to relax deliberately in order to minimize muscle tension and allow her body to birth with as little resistance as possible, which should minimize the pain she experiences as well.

Some claim that using self-hypnosis effectively leads to completely pain-free birth, but I don't expect that--although the course is trying hard to get me to expect it. I am, however, working to teach myself to expect a birth that is calm and manageable--one during which I will be able to use the relaxation cues I've learned in order to help my body relax. That's what the daily practice is all about--they call it learning self-hypnosis; I call it conditioning my body to relax in the presence of certain cues. I don't do the practice as often as I should, though, because apparently my body already relaxes in the presence of those cues--I keep falling asleep! I don't expect that to be an issue during my birthing time, so I do need to teach myself to relax in the presence of those cues while not falling asleep.

Oh, and if you've noticed some oddities in my vocabulary, it isn't just you. Part of the Hypnobabies method for reducing fear involves changing the way we think about certain things by changing the words we use to describe them. "Contractions" become "pressure waves," an equally accurate descriptor without the associations with pain that most people have. "Labor" becomes "my birthing time," again because so many associate labor with pain. I forget the other vocabulary changes that I'm supposed to be making, although there is one that may or may not be a Hypnobabies thing, but I've read it from several midwives and doulas: the word "delivery" is a little demeaning to mothers as it currently is used with regard to childbirth.

"Who will deliver your baby?" That makes it sound like the doctor is doing all the work--and making all the decisions--and the mom is just along for the ride. Midwives and doulas tend to talk instead about a medical professional attending the birth or catching the baby (although sometimes, depending on parental preferences, the doctor attends and the father catches), and the mother is the one who is birthing her baby. This change in terminology linguistically gives control to the mother, rather than to the birth attendant, at least to the extent that anyone can control birth. I like this terminology better than the traditional "delivery" terminology. After all, do I really want to use the same word for childbirth that I use when the pizza shows up at my door?

I think that's it for the pregnancy updates, other than one kind of amusing story. Alexa had been kicking me fairly regularly, although not all the time by any means. Then suddenly she stopped kicking me more than a couple of times a day. I started to get worried and mentioned it to Jeff. Within an hour, Alexa was kicking me constantly--four or more times in the first 15 or 20 minutes. Now it may be that frequently sometimes, less at other times, and none at all if I'm moving around a lot (probably rocking her to sleep), but it never gets to the point anymore where I even consider worrying before she goes into a frenzy of movement. It's almost as if she understood me tell Jeff that I was worried--I know she hears everything I say now, although understanding is unlikely--and she's determined not to worry me again.

Okay, that's really it. Hopefully it won't be two weeks again before I post something, but no guarantees. Right now my time is being spent sleeping, chasing Cleo away from the speakers (she's taken to licking them), and getting ready to head back to the States before too long. Speaking of those speakers ... gotta go!

Window Into the Womb

Modern technology is truly amazing. I don't often take the time to appreciate it, but sometimes I'm hit with the realization of just how awesome modern technology is--the ability to see and hear events that are occurring on the other side of the world, or right in front of us but so small that our eyes can't discern them; the ability to record and play back images of all kinds; even the ability to cool an entire residence to a comfortable temperature when it feels like a furnace outside (an ability for which I am becoming increasingly grateful as summer approaches!).

I am in even greater awe of the intricacy and majesty of God's creations for which He did not use human minds and hands as His tools--rugged mountains, beautiful meadows, delicately balanced ecosystems.

And then there are those times when modern technology and God's creation intersect. The ingenuity of man--enabled by God--allows us to see a side of God's creation that wasn't possible a century ago, a decade ago, or in some cases, a year ago. Those times truly fill me with wonder.

The most striking examples of those times recently have occurred as I'm lying in an exam room looking at a large screen mounted on the wall opposite me--staring in awe at my daughter as she rests, squirms, and hiccups inside me.

During this pregnancy, Jeff and I have had an opportunity that I doubt we'll have with any future pregnancies--the opportunity to watch as our daughter grows and matures before her birth. Most of these ultrasounds were obtained for less than desirable reasons, as you'll read, but the result is spectacular. So join me now as I offer you a glimpse through the window into the womb ...

The picture above was taken on 12 December 2009, when I was around six weeks along (around four weeks once you realize that the first two weeks of pregnancy are before ovulation even occurs!). We had an early ultrasound because of the cramping and bleeding that I was experiencing, which raised fears of an ectopic pregnancy. The purpose of this ultrasound wasn't actually to see the baby--that was impossible at this point--but to see the gestational sac and determine where it had implanted. The gestational sac is labeled on the above image as "GS," and as you can see, it was located within the uterus, much to our relief.

This next picture was taken on 20 December 2009, at almost 8 weeks. Because of my symptoms, my medical providers wanted to see evidence that the baby was still alive before they began any routine prenatal care. During this ultrasound, we saw the baby--I think they called her an embryo at that point--and the characteristic flutter that indicates the beating of a developing heart. The baby is the light spot inside the black area, with the two plus signs indicating her length. Although this ultrasound was just over one week later than the first, that one week plus the benefits of more sensitive equipment enabled us to go from "no baby" to "baby," albeit "tiny tiny baby." And there is no way I can describe the joy and relief of seeing the rhythmic flutter that showed that our baby was alive.

This picture was taken on 24 January 2010, at almost 13 weeks. We had this ultrasound because we wanted nucal translucency screening. This early screening gives a good indication of several possible problems with the baby--we knew that we would have this child even if she had problems, but we also knew that if that were the case, we would need time to prepare ourselves for the arrival of a special needs baby. So we opted for the screening. The opportunity for another ultrasound was a bonus! It was during this ultrasound that we first heard Alexa's heart beat and saw her move. You can see in the picture above that she definitely looks more baby-like here, with a recognizable head and body. We also saw her little arms and legs waving as she maneuvered--her high activity level during this ultrasound had me comparing her to a jumping bean.

For this next one, I just had to show you two pictures. These were taken on 30 January 2010, at almost 14 weeks. We discovered after having the previous ultrasound taken that the hospital where we had been referred for that couldn't actually do the nucal translucency screening. They did the ultrasound but they didn't draw the blood or presumably have the connections to send the blood for testing. So we went to a different clinic, repeated the ultrasound, and had the blood drawn and shipped to the UK--or maybe it was Germany; I don't remember--for testing. The results eventually came back that there was little likelihood that the baby had any of the disorders that this test detects, and we were able to see our daughter in 3D for the first time. These are my two favorite pictures. The top one shows Alexa's big head, her face, and her little body, all facing left. I like how she appears to be praying. The bottom one--my all-time favorite--shows Alexa facing us. I'm not sure if the structure on the left is the placenta or what, but I love how it appears to cradle her as she rests comfortably against it.

I just had to show you two from this one as well. These sonograms were taken on 17 March 2010, around 20 weeks. This is the ultrasound that most people get, in which they find out the baby's gender. Our daughter was being modest that day. The doctor told us that he was "almost certain" that she was a girl, but his voice and body language was a little less confident than I would have found assuring. She wouldn't show us "the goods" that day, but she did let us get a couple of pictures of her face. In the top picture, you can make out her eyes, nose, and mouth as she lies on her back. You also can see her arms and legs, but she has a leg or foot strategically placed. The bottom picture had Jeff making cracks about Skeletor for a while. I admit it--I didn't get offended and even joined in the Skeletor comments some; it's an apt description of how her face appears in that picture!

Okay, I admit it--this picture also was taken on 17 March. We had our last ultrasound on 5 May 2010, just last week, at around 27 weeks. There was no medical reason for this ultrasound. We wanted confirmation on the gender, and when the doctor suggested another ultrasound, we saw no reason to decline. We also were hoping for a nice view of Alexa's face, since it should have a little more fat on it now and look more like a baby than a skeleton. However, she absolutely did not cooperate with that. The picture above shows a side view of the position that she stayed in pretty much the whole time. Her legs are up, in a pike position, so that her legs and feet cover her face. We can't even get a side view of her face because her arms were blocking it. During this most recent ultrasound, we didn't even get this view. We got the view that showed us her backside and the backs of her legs, hiding her face. I don't feel comfortable posting that picture online, because her backside is clearly discernible, and even though she is still in the womb, a lady is entitled to her modesty. She did shift position just enough for the doctor to say that she is definitely a girl--either that or he's "imagining things," in his words. He seemed confident enough this time to reassure me that all of our cute baby girl clothes will be put to good use. (Although I did wake up two mornings later from a dream in which our little girl turned out to be a boy who had to go nameless for several days because we hadn't picked out a boy's name.)

So there you have it--a sampling of the glimpses we've been given of Alexa's development so far. I don't think we'll have any more ultrasounds, unless something unexpected happens, so these will be the last pictures of her until her birth. It looks like the curtains have closed on the window, to take the analogy too far :) But I always will be grateful that during this, our first pregnancy, we were able to watch as our baby developed from a tiny bean-shaped embryo into a full-fledged baby.

Surprise!!

Last Thursday evening, Jeff and I attended an end-of-the-year potluck supper for our life group. We knew it would be fun--life group get-togethers always are--but we had no idea just how fun it would turn out to be.

It started out pretty much as expected. We arrived, we chatted, we laughed, and once everyone had arrived, we ate. While we ate, we chatted and laughed some more. After dinner, I was not surprised that those who finished first took their own dishes to the kitchen and then returned for the dishes of those who finished later. As one of the last to finish (I was talking too much), I was mildly surprised that two different people almost took my plate before I had finished. Strange, but I chalked it up to overeagerness to be helpful. It turns out that I should have chalked it up to a determination to keep me out of the kitchen!

Jeff finished even later than I did (he had seconds) and made it to the kitchen without being intercepted. I found out later that after he was already in the kitchen, across the room from the door, placing his dishes by the sink, he noticed that the two or three ladies who were in there at the time were looking at him in horror. At the same time, he noticed the cakes on the counter. He quickly whipped his head around in the other direction and said something along the lines of, "I didn't see anything!" He said later that he was surprised that he didn't turn from the sink to see the ladies lined up in front of the counter; they said later that they were frozen in shock and couldn't think quickly enough what to do.

Not too long after that, our hostess stood up to make a short speech. In it, she revealed that our life group had been talking about us behind our backs--planning a surprise baby shower! Then the games began. First up was a "descrambling" game. The group was divided into two teams, each of which was shown a scrambled word at the same time. The first team to descramble the word got a point. The words all were pregnancy- or baby-related, like "high chair" or "diapers." My team won by a huge margin.

Then there were races. For one, a couple from each team had to put a cloth diaper on a baby doll--using only one hand each. They were judged both on time and on how well the diaper was on. Other than banging the doll's head against the table--which both teams did at some point--both teams did well. There also was the "Who can drink a bottle of juice fastest?" race (we forgot to specify that it was against the rules to untwist the cap and guzzle it, so that's what the winner eventually did) and the hanging baby clothes race, in which a representative of each team had to multitask by simultaneously holding the baby, hanging baby clothes on a clothes line, and telling a story into a mobile phone. That one was funny because of the stories people came up with and the poor little baby doll who ended up with her face in a man's armpit while he held her in a basket.

After that, it was time for gifts. Wow, what a haul!

I don't know if you can see everything clearly in the picture, so let me tell you what's in there: We have three stuffed animals, massage oil (a gift for Jeff that I'm going to appreciate greatly!), a onesie/skirt set, a short set, a hooded winter suit with cool foldover arms and legs, and more assorted onesies and sleepers. We also have a wonderful variety of bibs, diaper covers, wash/burp cloths, a navel protector, and onesies that were embroidered just for us by one of our friends. And the circle pattern that you see peeping through in the middle is a tiny bit of the nursing cover that will be so incredibly useful as I learn to nurse modestly in public (think 14+ hours in airplanes and airports on the trip to Cairo). Oh, and I know you probably can't see this in the picture: there's also a bouncy seat. It's up at the top, at the corner of the "Drool is Cool" bib and the nursing cover. Okay, so it's just a picture in the picture, but the APO mail system has been slow lately, so the real thing didn't quite make it here in time for the shower. But from the picture, I think Alexa is going to enjoy it. And I like the looks of it--it has safari-type animals on it, sort of an unofficial, accidental theme in the bedding and such that we've picked out. (We didn't pick a whole matching set, just some separate sheets, blankets, and a mobile, but it definitely is turning out to be a safari theme.)

We have great friends, don't we?

After the gifts, we had a time of prayer. Our group prayed for us, for Alexa, and for the two couples in our group who will be leaving Cairo permanently this summer. That part was bittersweet--life as an expat has many more good-byes than life back in the States had. But at the same time, we would never have met all these wonderful people had we stayed at home, and the joy of the relationships definitely outweighs the sadness of the good-byes. It's even possible that we'll see one of the couples again.

After this more serious time, we got back to the lighthearted bits--it was time for cake. Two of them, to be precise. And they both tasted as wonderful as they look. You can't really tell from the pictures how large they were--we ended up taking home half of the chocolate one, at the insistence of the person who brought it. Only about 25% of the white one was eaten that night--it was huge--and the rest was divvied up among all the guests. We took home a paper-plateful of it, too. Both remained tasty over the next several days.

After cake, everyone started winding down. It was getting late; I wasn't the only one whose eyelids started drifting downward. After the other guests had left, our host and hostess kindly walked with Jeff and me back to our place--we live maybe 2 blocks from them--to help us carry our cake, presents, and dishes.

It was a good night. The potluck part was fun; the shower was hilarious. And most importantly, it was a time of great fellowship with great friends.

Sharm el Sheikh

Toward the end of February, Jeff and I took a mini-vacation and spent a long weekend in Sharm el Sheikh. (I know, I've taken my sweet time writing about it, but what else is new?) Some friends were spending a week there to dive, and we decided to join them for the last part of their vacation. We arrived on a Wednesday evening and flew back to Cairo that Saturday.

Because our friends were diving, we knew that they were both getting up and going to bed early. When we arrived Wednesday night, they very well may have been asleep already. So we checked in, unpacked a little, then went in search of the restaurant we had chosen for dinner: El Kababgy, the Oriental restaurant on the resort. (Here in Egypt, what we would call "Middle Eastern" is labeled "Oriental," in accordance with the way the word was used before Europeans became aware of the Far East. So an Oriental restaurant is not Chinese or Japanese, but local, often serving Lebanese and/or Egyptian food.) We got a little lost on the way, but that was due to the darkness and our own exhaustion more than anything else, I think. It was worth the effort to find the place--the hummus, shish tawook, and kofta all were delicious.

After dinner, we headed back to our room for some sleep. On the way, though, I stopped to take a couple of photographs. The lights of Sharm across the bay from our resort were beautiful, although I couldn't get any pictures of that to turn out well. I also was fascinated by the traditional lamps that were used to provide the (sparse) lighting on the stairs and walkways.


The next morning, Jeff and I slept late. Then we found our way to the main restaurant (I forget the name) where the breakfast buffet was held. There we found an omelet station, a fruit bar, a bread bar, an Oriental corner (which boasted fuul and some other local breakfast dishes), and a variety of egg and sausage dishes (not pork sausage; that's very unusual in Egypt). Most importantly to me, there also were the usual fresh, delicious juices--orange, apple, and hibiscus. After enjoying a leisurely breakfast, Jeff and I took a walk around the resort to see what was available. Then we headed to the pool, where we spent most of the day relaxing and reading.

That evening, we met up with our friends for dinner. Their dive team had told them about a good steak restaurant in Na'ama Bay, an area not too far from the resort, and we were up for anything. We took a couple of the hotel taxis to the area where they'd been told to go, but we had issues finding the exact restaurant that had been mentioned. We were able, however, to find another steak place that was very good. The best part about the restaurant was the atmosphere--it looked like a jungle in there. There seemed to be trees growing inside the restaurant. The lighting was dim, mostly candlelight. The music was unfortunately loud, but it didn't detract too much. After a very nice dinner, we rolled ourselves out of our seats and began heading back.

I must say, it was interesting watching our friends--who are living outside of the U.S. but not in Egypt--negotiate a taxi fare. There was quite a bit of discussion about exactly which taxi we would be getting into, as it wasn't the drivers who were negotiating. There was a long line at the taxi stand, and those drivers at the front of the line wanted outrageous prices because they had had to wait so long to get to the front of the line. It was set up so that once a driver was in the line, they couldn't pull out, so the order in which they received passengers was fixed. Passengers who didn't want to pay the large prices could negotiate with representatives of other drivers, who may be parked across the divided highway, a long walk down the road, or who may not be parked at all--they may just cruise by and illegally stop to pick us up. I'm not sure how many taxis were rejected for fear of crossing the busy road. It was a new situation even for Jeff and me, since nothing is that organized in Cairo; we just flag down a taxi and negotiate right there on the street, no matter how many horns are honking behind us.

The next day, the group all met for breakfast. Our friends weren't diving that day, as they were flying the next and needed a day between diving and flying for safety reasons. We decided to spend the morning relaxing by the pool. While the others headed there, I grabbed my camera and made another round of the resort. There were just too many beautiful sights that I hadn't captured yet. After my detour, I rejoined the others and spent the morning reading and relaxing.

Around noon, we decided to leave the resort for lunch. Our friends confessed that every day as they traveled to and from the dock, they had been eying the McDonald's down the road with longing--it's funny the things you start to yearn for when you live in a country where they aren't available. We were going to take a taxi there, but the hotel taxis were inflexible in their pricing, and they were going to charge us as much for a 2-minute drive as it would have been for a 15-minute drive, so we decided to walk. It really wasn't that far, and we thought of it as a preemptive strike on the calories we were about to consume. So we walked to McDonald's and thoroughly enjoyed the absolute glee with which our friends attacked their burgers. Afterward, a few of us walked two doors down to Starbucks (mmm, Frappuccino!), while a couple more went to the nearby convenience store to stock up on snacks for the next day's plane ride. Unfortunately, one of our number started feeling badly--I think she's allergic to wheat and unknowingly had consumed some in her yogurt--so we postponed the shopping we were going to do and headed back to the resort instead. We all agreed that we were ready for our afternoon naps anyway :-)

A couple of hours later, four of us went out to do our shopping. We went back to Na'ama Bay and allowed the shopkeepers to lure us in, although we disappointed most of them. We did a lot of looking and very little buying. Our friends were looking for t-shirts to commemorate one of the dives they had taken--Thistlegorm, I think, a wreck site that's a really big deal to divers, and justifiably so, from the pictures they took. They also wanted some cartouches, but Jeff and I cautioned them against anyone who would be able to customize them in the time they had left--tourists have been known to discover that the characters were glued on. It also seemed that the vendors were offering lower quality for higher prices than what we've seen, so we offered to simply order the cartouches from our favorite jeweler and ship them. (We still haven't done that, but we plan to do it this weekend, promise!) Then we started looking for "typical Egyptian" souvenirs, and I admit that I had a hard time coming up with something that is typical Egyptian other than cartouches, papyrus, alabaster, and distinctive lamps or mashrabeyya (there's a picture of what I mean here), the last two of which are common throughout the Middle East. We did eventually find a shop that had a variety of authentic--rather than touristy--Egyptian items, some of which even had tags from one of my favorite charity vendors here in Cairo. Better yet, they even had clearly labeled prices, which were reasonable, considering that it was located in a very touristy area. And, when I spoke with the shopkeeper in Arabic and he was curious as to why I was able to do so, I told him that Jeff and I live in Cairo. He shook his head, said "I wish you hadn't told me that," and dropped the prices on the items we purchased by about 10%.

After making our purchases, we headed back to the resort (more fun with taxis!). Later that evening, we met at El Kobabgy for dinner. Jeff and I were the first ones there, so we waited outside for the others. While we waited, we watched a woman baking bread in the traditional oven located just outside the restaurant. She saw us watching and gave us a sample of flatbread fresh from the oven--so delicious! Eventually the others showed up and we all went in to enjoy our last evening in Sharm.

The next day, we all left at different times, some very early, others not until late afternoon. Jeff and I enjoyed a late breakfast, then checked out of the hotel. We got back to Cairo in the early afternoon and had some time to get settled back in at home. I quickly discovered, while catching up on Facebook and with friends' blogs, that we had missed the event of a decade in Cairo--a genuine hail and rain storm, a true deluge! I'm glad that we didn't have to put up with the headaches that our friends here reported--such as stranded metro riders, parking lot roads, and water up to the 12-inch curbs--but I couldn't help but be a little miffed that Cairo finally got real rain, and we missed it. Oh, well, maybe next year ... but probably not.

(Side note for anyone who may want to visit Sharm: we stayed at the Sofitel resort in Na'ama Bay. It was beautiful--all of the pictures throughout this post were taken on the grounds; this last one is of a pattern that was on the ceiling of the reception area. The rooms were clean and mostly comfortable. Our air conditioner didn't seem to be functioning as well as we would prefer; it got hot during the day, even when we left it on all day, but it cooled off quickly in the evening when we opened the main door and the door to our balcony to let a breeze come through. The service and food at all three restaurants that we tried was very good--El Kababgy, the main one, and another outdoor cafe where we had lunch on Thursday. Overall, I would recommend it as a great place to go for a weekend getaway. I don't think I'd want to stay longer than a weekend unless I was diving or had other activities planned, though. Oh, and a word of warning for American prudes like me--there were guests from all over the world, so pool-side attire ranged all the way from niqab to topless bikinis.)

Cute Little Things

Not too long ago, Jeff spent two weeks back in the Washington, DC, area for work. His hotel was in the same area where we lived before we moved to Egypt--in fact, it was the same hotel in which we stayed for a few days after the movers took our stuff and before our scheduled departure. Jeff, therefore, was able to spend evenings and 3 weekend days (he arrived on a Saturday and left two Fridays later) with friends; he even attended our home church for the first time in almost two years. And even better (from my perspective, though not from his), he was able to spend a full weekend visiting Babies'R'Us, Target, and other brick-and-mortar stores to actually lay eyes--and hands!--on some of the things we've been looking at online and considering for Alexa. Thanks to his trip, we were able to decide on the glider we want for the nursery, and he was able to give me guidelines within which I can pick out any crib, changing table, and dresser I want once I go back this summer. He also made a decision about the baby carrier that we'll purchase for his use (I had already chosen mine--turns out he'll get the same kind, or we may even share) and the new digital camera we'll use to record those cute little moments of Alexa's life. It was a good, productive time, in addition to fun for him--watching March Madness live, eating at his favorite restaurants, seeing friends, and in particular, spending lots of time with his "bestest buddy" from college (who again earned his "bestest buddy" status by accompanying Jeff on the baby shopping expedition).

But Jeff did not content himself with doing the bare minimum that I had requested for Alexa. He dragged his buddy not only to the furniture department, but to the clothing department. Unbeknownst to me, he was on a mission to show me in a tangible way that he's excited about our coming daughter and that he wants to be involved in her life and in the decisions that we have yet to make before her arrival. This is what he came back with:

I'm not sure if you can read it or not, but the onesie says "Daddy loves me." I think that says it all, doesn't it?

Jeff wasn't the only one thinking of our little Alexa while he was home. Another good friend--friends, actually, a husband and wife couple--sent a gift back with Jeff. When we opened it after his return home, we found these adorable little items:

Again, I'm not sure how well the details will show up in the picture. The onesie in the middle (which does have sleeves; they're just folded back so you can see the other onesies too) has a teddy bear and a duck on it, and the one on the right has a giraffe. The left one has a pattern of teddy bears, giraffes, ducks, and sheep. And of course, the sleeper has frogs :)

I've also purchased just a couple of things for Alexa here in Egypt. At a charity bazaar, I bought a hooded towel and a board book that I remember fondly from my own childhood:

And then there are all the wonderful gifts that we received at a surprise baby shower a couple of nights ago--but I think I'll hold off on sharing those. I may write a post about the shower itself, so if I do, I'll share pictures then.

I think it may be a good thing that I'm not in the States right now. Baby items are just such cute little things--in the States, it's entirely too easy to go to the mall or to Target or to [insert your favorite store] and spend entirely too much money on them. Here, I'm sure that there are stores that have the same cute little things, but I've had no reason to find them before now, and I'm doing remarkably well at resisting the impulse. It's allowing us to save the money we'll need for the larger baby purchases I'll make this summer ... and maybe have enough left over to buy some more cute little things too :)

What's In a Name?

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet.

                                       -- William Shakespeare

It is true that the name of a thing doesn't change the essence of the thing. A rose really would smell just the same whether it were called a rose, a cloud, a lamp, or a grave. The essence of the rose would not differ just because of its name. In fact, the reason why most of us probably consider the word rose to be pleasant is because of the thing that it names--rather than the name affecting our perception of the thing, the thing affects our perception of the name. We probably would not have such a positive attitude toward the word rose if it described, not a fragrant flower, but a putrid body odor.

The same thing holds true with human names. There are names that I never particularly liked, until I met some wonderful person who happened to have that name, and now I have a more favorable opinion of the name itself. There are names that I used to love, until I met some arrogant or cruel person who happened to have that name, and now I dislike the name itself. But to some degree, the opposite also holds true with human names. The names that we give sometimes seem to affect the character or personality of the child who is named. Of course, it may just be that certain types of parents give certain types of names and also engage in certain parenting behaviors that tend to result in certain types of children--a mother who names her child "Elizabeth" or "Matthew" will probably raise that child in a much more traditional way than a mother who names her child "Apple" or "Thor." Human names also can affect the way people view the person who carries the name--we tend to have a stereotype of "Martha" that is very different from our stereotype of "Delilah."

Given names are not the most important attribute of a person, but they are important, for the reasons stated above. Naming a child is one of the great privileges--and great responsibilities--of parenthood. It can be a difficult decision, but it's also one of the more fun tasks, provided that Mom and Dad both go into it with a positive and flexible attitude.

Yes, Jeff and I have been discussing names for our preborn daughter.

Yes, we have come to a decision. (No, we have not yet chosen a backup boy's name, just in case the doctor's "pretty certain" turns out not to be certain enough. We will choose one, but we haven't done it yet.)

Yes, we're announcing that name today.

No, not quite yet--you'll have to keep reading if you want to know :)

The first bit of the name that we decided on actually was the middle name. Jeff mentioned long ago--before we even married--that he would love to name his firstborn daughter after his paternal grandmother. He used to go visit his grandparents on their farm for the summer when he was a child, and he has wonderful memories of the time he spent there. Later, his grandmother moved into an assisted living facility near his father's home, and Jeff visited her as much as he was able. She died a year or so before we married, and it was a very difficult time for Jeff. So when he said that he would like to name his daughter after her, it didn't occur to me to refuse. However, I did negotiate with him--I asked if he would accept his grandmother's name as his daughter's middle name rather than as her first name. I freely admit that my preference was due to a superficial--but important to me--factor. His grandmother's name starts with the letter R. When I was a child, I had to attend speech therapy because my Rs sounded like Ws. I speak more clearly now, but there have been moments throughout my life when the R sound just wouldn't come out correctly, and I was teased unmercifully by a few schoolmates. I often feel slightly self-conscious when saying words beginning with R, so you can imagine my chagrin at the thought of going through the rest of my life with an R-named daughter! Luckily, Jeff was fine with the request, even before I explained why I made it.

Because we already had the middle name picked out, all that was left to us recently was to choose the first name. It was important to me that the name we chose be pretty and meaningful. I also would like for it not to be too common, but all of my favorites were more common than I prefer, so I focused instead on the meaning and on how it sounds with the middle name we chose and with our last name. I love the idea that names' meanings could influence the child's character, and I greatly appreciate the meaning of the middle name we chose: it means friend.

I considered several meaningful first names that sounded nice with the middle and last names our daughter will have. Jeff considered a few. I got stuck on one of the first ones that I considered--a name of Greek origin that means defender. I love the idea of my daughter being a defender. A defender of truth, of justice, of any younger siblings we may eventually give her. And I like how it combines with her middle name: defender-friend. A defender of her friends, a friend of those who defend. Someone strong and principled enough to be a defender, and caring and personable enough to be a friend. In my mind, it was perfect.

Eventually, Jeff agreed with me. So we have a name. Would you like to hear it?

Alexa Ruth.

Our daughter, the defender-friend. I can't wait to meet her.

Dreams

I hate dreams.

Oh, not the inspirational "I have a dream" goal-and-aspiration kind of dreams--I'm a big fan of those. No, the ones I despise are the ones that come when you sleep, when you're most vulnerable and defenseless. I've hated those as long as I can remember.

I have good reason, too: They've never been kind to me. As a child, I would wake with night terrors--those middle of the night awakenings that are filled with unexplainable fear, the remnant of nightmares that you don't remember even as you wake up. Sometimes I would remember the gist of the nightmare (it had "something" to do with vampires, or with demons, or with evil people trying to hurt my little brother--who actually was littler than me at the time--and only I was there to protect him; but I had no specifics, just the general awareness of who the bad guys had been). On very rare occasions I would remember more details, at least for a few minutes, until I was fully awake. Most often I didn't remember anything at all about the dream. Once my father told me that it would help if I talked about my nightmares, but I was ashamed to admit that I was still so terrified and didn't even remember what I was afraid of, so I made up a nightmare to tell him. I developed my own little mantra-like prayer that I would repeat over and over every night until I fell asleep--and every time I awoke in the night. "Jesus, help me. Let me fall asleep quickly and sleep all night. Don't let me have any bad dreams. Don't let me be afraid. Please help me, Jesus." I said it well into my 20s.

The blessing for me is that I don't remember my dreams. As I've gotten older, there have been times when one of my friends would tell me about the wonderful dream she had. I assume that there is no way all of my dreams could be bad, and from time to time I became determined to remember a good one. So I'd be sure not to set an alarm clock, and as I slowly woke up, I would focus on remembering. Without exception, every time, the dream I remembered would be scary or sad. Eventually I just thanked God for removing the memories of my nighttime fears and sorrows, and I stopped trying to remember. For me, there is no such thing as a good dream.

When I became pregnant and started researching what to expect, it didn't take long for me to find the little tidbit about dreams becoming more vivid. "Ha!" I thought. "Not a problem, I don't remember them anyway, and that's the way I like it." Famous last words.

So far I've remembered three: the gist of one of them and some details of the other two.

The first two weren't really that bad. They were both early on in the pregnancy, either the same night or within a few nights of each other. For the first, in the dream, I was very close to my due date, still here in Egypt (although that won't be the case in real life), when Jeff told me that he was going on a sailing trip with a friend. (No, Jeff doesn't sail, but in the dream he did, and the friend desperately needed him to go for some reason that was not explained to me.) I cried and begged him not to go, sure that something would happen and he wouldn't come back. He went anyway. In my dream, it was like one of those movies, where you see the person sitting still and time passing all around her--I sat on the sofa and did absolutely nothing the whole time he was gone, which I think was several days, possibly weeks; I didn't even eat. I just sat there, numb and abandoned. Then he came back and asked me what I had done while he was gone. I couldn't tell him; for me, it was like he had just walked out the door. I had shut down and I couldn't explain where the time had gone. He was very concerned. Then I woke up. This dream was miserable while I was in it, but as soon as I woke up, I was fine. I decided that apparently I had a fear of being abandoned, but even my subconscious knew that Jeff would never abandon me, so I shrugged it off.

The second dream is the one I only remember the gist of. In this dream, I left. I didn't want to but I had to. I was completely alone and afraid, hiding in some abandoned area from something bad that was following me. But in the dream I prayed and somehow knew it would all turn out okay. Then I woke up. I chose to interpret this dream in a reassuring way as well--I know that no matter how I feel or what my situation, God is there and will take care of me. Not so bad for me. Downright pleasant, considering my usual nighttime horrors.

Then there was the dream I had last night. It was, without a doubt, the worst dream I have ever had. And I remember way too many details. Way too many. In the dream, I was with my husband and my mother when my mother told me that my sister had committed suicide. (In real life, there is no indication at all that she would ever do such a thing--she isn't even depressed.) I remember feeling the numbness that can be such a blessing in times of horrific news, the numbness that shields the mind from having to take it all in at once. And then I had to say something. My mind skittered across the questions that I knew I eventually would want--or need--to have answered. Why? How? As soon as I thought of a question, I recoiled from it, knowing that I couldn't handle the answer. Finally I settled on a question I could handle: When is the funeral? But as soon as I opened my mouth to ask, I lost control. I started sobbing and buried my face in my hands, trying to hold the emotion in until I could stuff it away somewhere. Then suddenly I was somewhere else, with someone else, who I don't know, other than that she was female. We were walking along a wide asphalt path with manicured lawns on either side. She was chattering on about some inane topic like people do when they don't know what to say about the thing that really matters, but I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. I felt a burning need to know when my sister's funeral was, and I knew that this other person could tell me. But again, when I opened my mouth to ask, I lost control. That time, when I covered my face with my hands, I woke up.

I woke up gasping for air. I looked around my room, realized it was only a dream, and burst into tears. That's never happened to me before. I've woken up crying and even yelling before, but as soon as I realize it's only a dream, I'm able to let it go. Always--that's a skill I've spent a lot of time learning, and I've gotten really good at it. But this time I couldn't. I was struggling so hard to hold it all in, to stay quiet and not wake up Jeff, that it physically hurt. I got up and went into the bathroom, where I just cried for a good ten minutes. When I thought I was okay again, I went back to bed, but before I even lay down, I started crying again. Back into the bathroom I went. Eventually I calmed down enough to go back to sleep, but when I woke up again this morning, it was still there--which is very unusual; even if I do remember when I wake up at night, I don't remember the next morning, not more than the gist of it. But this one, I still remembered so clearly. I started to tell Jeff about it but started crying again and decided that maybe if I just didn't think about it, it would go away. It hasn't. It's lingered all day, making me tired and teary-eyed. I took a nap this morning, because I know that the more tired I am, the more emotional I get. It didn't help.

So now I'm writing about it, hoping that if I express it in this way, I'll be able to release it. I don't understand why this one is hanging on so tightly. There is no truth in this dream that I can discover. There is no reason to fear that my sister is suicidal. There is no reason for me to remember this dream. This dream has been haunting me all day--and on Easter, for crying out loud! It needs to go away already.

Which leads me back to the beginning, with some modification.

I do not merely hate dreams. I utterly despise, abhor, and loathe them.

Sugar and Spice

Sugar and spice
and everything nice
that's what little girls are made of

Sunshine and rainbows
and ribbons for hair bows
that's what little girls are made of

Tea parties, laces
and baby doll faces
that's what little girls are made of

                     ~ Anonymous Author


I have a feeling they're also made of spit up, poo, tears, and wails, but also coos, cuddles, smiles, and laughs.

I guess we'll be finding out come August.

That's right--we had our 20-week ultrasound last Wednesday. The doctor wasn't totally sure, because Baby was being modest, but he was "pretty certain" that we have a daughter. We'll try to confirm at our next ultrasound in early May.

So how do we feel about having a daughter? We're both very happy, of course! Jeff told me in the doctor's office that I was beaming. He's always said that as long as our child is healthy, he'll be happy--I think the exact words were "Ten and ten and I'm good"--even as he consistently used masculine pronouns with regard to Baby. (He accurately pointed out that as long as the sex is unknown, it's grammatically correct to use masculine pronouns.) Meanwhile, I've used feminine pronouns all along, spent more time and energy putting feminine names together, and daydreamed about our little girl. I've been well aware of the fact that I would be very happy with either a boy or a girl, but I somehow couldn't think of this child as a boy for more than a couple of hours at a time.

Now we officially get to start picking out our daughter's name! I've been looking at and playing with names for a long time, since well before we started trying to have a baby. I was ready to pick a boy name and a girl name beginning the day we got the positive pregnancy test, but Jeff would have none of it. "Why do the work twice?" he asked. He refused to consider names until we knew the baby's sex. Of course, even now, I'm planning to have one of each picked out, just in case Baby surprises us on her birthday by being a him--it's been known to happen, folks. But for now we'll focus on the girl name first, and then I'll work on getting Jeff to see the wisdom of picking out a boy name too--although if the next ultrasound confirms her status as a her, it'll be an uphill battle.

That's all for today--I just wanted to share the news. I'm hoping before too long to put up a post showing Baby's development through ultrasound pictures, since we've had so many ... but maybe I'll wait until after the May ultrasound to do that so I can post a complete set. For today I'll just share my favorite sonogram so far--one of the ones taken during the nucal translucency ultrasound on 30 January. I love how Baby looks so much like a teddy bear in this one, and how the placenta or whatever that is by her side appears to be cradling her.

Have a good week, everyone!

Aswan

The last full day of our Nile cruise started with an excursion to a couple of sites in Aswan. It was a beautiful day in Aswan, sunny, cool, and windy. Like every other day on the cruise, the absence of air pollution was divine--we breathed deeply and admired the bright blue sky.

Our first stop was the Unfinished Obelisk--an obelisk (the same shape as the Washington Monument) still lying uncompleted in the granite quarry. It originally was supposed to be 42 meters (almost 138 feet by my calculations, although Wikipedia says 120 feet) tall and would have been the tallest obelisk had it been completed. It was abandoned when the granite cracked. Its presence in the quarry apparently has helped egyptologists figure out how obelisks were made and transported in ancient Egyptian times. This website has a nice description of how the obelisks--which each were made from a single huge piece of granite--were removed from the ground. It concurs nicely with what I remember being told by Hesham: A harder stone was used to dig a row of holes around the intended obelisk, and wood was placed into those holes. Then water was poured over it, causing the wood to expand and split the rock. Heated bricks and cold water were used to smooth the sides. I'm not sure how they actually raised the obelisk from the quarry, but it was transported to a boat and from there to whatever site it was intended for. Once at the site, a hole was dug at the intended location for the obelisk's base to sit down into. Then sand was removed from beneath the bottom of the obelisk so that it slid into the hole and ended up standing upright--as a precaution, a hill of sand had been built on the other side, so that the obelisk wouldn't tip over too far as it fell. Once the obelisk was securely in its location, the hill was removed.

After visiting the Unfinished Obelisk, we traveled by boat to Agilika Island to see the Temple of Philae, a temple to Isis. It was a beautiful trip that didn't last long enough! We walked from the bus to the docking area, which was crowded with a dozen or so small motorboats. The motor

boat drivers all tried to fit their boats into the area right beside the dock--an area large enough for only a few of them. Boats that were dropping off passengers gently nosed empty boats out of their way as they slowly edged toward the dock; empty boats did the same, as the drivers hoped to pick up passengers; and full boats pushed their way through the throng trying to get away from shore. It was classical Egyptian transportation, except that in the boats, it was perfectly okay to make contact with the other vehicles--a practice that is frowned upon when the vehicles in question are cars! Once our group was settled in a boat and clear of the throng, we enjoyed a short ride to the island. We passed other islands on the way and enjoyed the lush greenery and stark rock formations.

The spectacular views continued once we were on Agilika Island. Hesham led us to a side area where we sat while he explained the history of the temple we were to see. The Temple of Philae got its name from its original home--the island of Philae, located about 550 meters (1800 feet) from Agilika. It was built there because
Philae was believed to be where one of the pieces of Osiris was buried, and where his wife Isis found it in order to reconstruct his body and bring him back to life. Apparently temples to Isis were built in each of the traditional locations where Osiris's pieces were hidden. Philae actually was a little too small to hold the temple that the builders wanted to create, so modifications had to be made to the traditional design. The modification that I remember is that, whereas most temples were built with the halls and sanctuary in a straight line, at Philae there was a slight offset, because the temple would not have fit on the island had it been built in a straight line.

So if the temple was built on Philae, why did we go to Agilika to see it? Because it was moved. Philae, already a small island, was partially submerged when the first Aswan dam--the Aswan Low Dam--was completed in 1902, jeopardizing the temple. When the construction of the Aswan High Dam was begun in 1960, it was obvious that the island would be flooded even more, making it even less likely that the temple would survive and cutting off access to the soon-to-be submerged temple whether it survived or not. So UNESCO started a project to save the temple, as well as other sites located on what was to become the floor of Lake Nasser. Dams were built around the island to relieve the flooding. The temple was recorded and measured carefully to ensure that it could be reconstructed accurately in its new home. Finally, the buildings were dismantled--creating around 40,000 pieces--and moved to Agilika, a larger and higher island where the reassembled temple would remain above the waterline. Below is a picture of what's left of Phileo from Agilika.

The information I couldn't remember about Philae and the temple was found at: Wikipedia and  Egypt Travel.

After our tour of the temple and its outbuildings on Agilika island, we returned to the ship for lunch. Then we enjoyed a felucca ride on the Nile that afternoon. The ride was nice, as we passed by several beautiful sites, but it definitely was odd. We wore life jackets. In Cairo, I'm not sure the felucca guys would recognize a life jacket if someone smacked them upside the head with it--they're just not used. In Aswan, we were required to wear them. Of course, that was an Abercrombie & Kent requirement--we were told to bring the life jackets from our cabins--not a felucca guy requirement. But it still made it feel less like an authentic Egyptian experience. It quickly became more authentic, however, when the two felucca guys brought out their satchels of souvenirs for sale before we went back to the dock.

That evening, we had our "farewell banquet." The next morning after breakfast, we checked out of our cabin. Several passengers headed straight for the airport, some to go home and others to fly to Abu Simbel to see the temple there. Jeff and I relaxed in the public areas of the ship until noon, when we were picked up to go to the airport. Our original itinerary had shown the cruise not ending until lunch, so our flight to Cairo left in early afternoon. Had we been notified of the change in itinerary, we may have booked a morning trip to Abu Simbel, but it also was nice just to spend some more time relaxing on the ship. I was a little templed out at that point. I hear that Abu Simbel is amazing, so I'd hate to see it in a less-than-eager state of mind--hopefully we'll be able to get down that way again before we leave Egypt.

Maybe a Lake Nasser cruise early next spring?

Edfu and Kom Ombo

Now returning to our Nile cruise after an inexcusably long break ...

I must begin with full disclosure. On this day of the cruise, I was unaccountably exhausted. Most of the information provided by our guide, Hesham, did not register with me at all that day. The weeks since the trip have further dulled my memory. As a result, most of the information in this particular entry is from various websites, rather than from my memories of the tours themselves.

We started out with an early morning sail, departing from Luxor and heading to Edfu. We had the opportunity to be woken up to view the ship's passage through the lock at Esna, where the ship had to be raised to a higher water level, but Jeff and I chose to sleep through this event. It was uncertain when it would occur--as early as 3am or as late as 6. In either case, we decided that sleeping late on vacation was more important than watching an event that, while probably fascinating, occurred just too early in the morning.

At a much more reasonable time that morning, we docked at Edfu and went ashore to tour the Temple of Horus, possibly the best preserved temple in Egypt. It was built during the Greco-Roman period, with construction beginning in 237 BC and continuing until 57 BC. Horus was the falcon-headed god and husband to the goddess Hathor, whose temple we saw at Dendera. There are images of Horus and Hathor engraved on the facade of the first hypostyle hall.

As we approached the temple, we could see the remnants of the carvings on the facade. The carvings were symmetrical, with the same scene mirrored on each side. The scene shows the pharaoh holding captive enemies by their hair and killing them in the presence of Horus.

Further in to the temple, in the sanctuary, we saw a reconstruction of the ceremonial barge--called a barque--that would have been used once a year to transport the statue of Horus to visit his wife Hathor in Dendera. From what I understand, Hathor visited Horus once a year, and Horus returned the visit once a year. In this way, the married god and goddess maintained their relationship. The statues even were left alone together at night so they could engage in sexual activity!

Sources for information about Edfu: Wikipedia, Egypt Travel, and Sacred Destinations.

After our visit to Edfu, we returned to the ship for lunch and a lazy afternoon, during which I again tried to stay awake. Early that evening, we docked in Kom Ombo and went ashore to tour the temple there, which was dedicated to two deities: Sobek, the crocodile god of fertility, and Haroeris, or Horus the Elder, the sun god of war. This temple is symmetrical--every room that exists for Sobek on the right also exists for Haroeris on the left. There were two entrances, two sanctuaries, and probably even two sets of priests.

There were three things that I found memorable about this temple, apart from its double design. The first was that crocodiles were kept at the temple in honor of Sobek--the belief was that crocodiles could be prevented from harming the population if they were worshiped. So a captive crocodile was kept at the temple at all times so that it could be worshiped. Hesham told us that it is believed that the crocodiles were young--when they got older, bigger, and scarier, they mysteriously died (possibly as a result of being poisoned by the priests) and were mummified. The crocodile mummies were found at the site.

The second memorable thing about the temple at Kom Ombo was the section that seemed to be dedicated to ancient Egyptian medical practices. There were carvings depicting medical instruments and procedures, even childbirth.

Third, I finally got to see something that I'd heard and read about repeatedly--a nilometer. There's one here in Cairo, but I haven't been to see it. Nilometers existed in various places along the Nile. Their purpose was to measure the height of the river, I believe during the annual floods. The nilometer consists of a cistern dug deep into the ground near the river. It's connect to the river by an underground tunnel, through which the river water enters the cistern. Stairs spiral down the walls so that priests or whoever did the measuring could go down to water level and use a pole or some such to measure the distance from the bottom of the cistern to the top of the water. The water level determined the amount that the people had to pay in taxes. If the Nile was high, it was a good crop year; taxes were accordingly raised. If the Nile was low, it was not a good year for crops; taxes were accordingly lowered.

Sources for information about the temple at Kom Ombo: Wikipedia and Tour Egypt. I remembered the information about the crocodiles, medical instruments, and nilometer on my own, so you may not want to assume that I remembered it all correctly.

After we left the temple at Kom Ombo, it was time to go back to the ship for dinner. Wednesday night was Egyptian night, so most people wore gallabeyyas. Most of them were purchased on the ship for pretty reasonable prices. Of course, I wore the one I bought a year or so ago in Kerdassa, and Jeff wore one he bought at the Khan back in October. The meal was all traditional Egyptian food--the most notable being koshary and schawarma (our favorites). After the meal there was an Egyptian party in the lounge, but I was dead on my feet, so we just went to bed instead of joining in the fun.

Next: the final day of sightseeing--Aswan.