We aren't going to Italy
Not long before we were informed of Bärchen's pending arrival, Werner had accepted an invitation to a conference in Italy. Needless to say, I quickly volunteered to be conference spouse for this one, and had visions of visiting Parma (ham and cheese) and Modena (balsamic vinegar) and maybe taking a cooking course in Bologna.
Then we got our very happy news. We did a little mental math and found out I'd be probably about 30 or 31 weeks pregnant by the outbound trip (and we'd go to Germany after Italy), and so asked my GP about the advisability of the trip. He said I could be fine, but recommended cancellation insurance just in case.
After thinking about it some more, we decided to cancel completely. Werner informed both the conference organisers and his family that he wouldn't be able to make it to Europe as planned.
So on Wednesday morning, wedged into our Air Canada seats, I turned to Werner and said, "I hope this flight is just uncomfortable enough to convince me that we made the right decision on Italy." Well, as it happened, the flight was no more uncomfortable than the average Air Canada flight, and I did fairly well. (Transferring terminals at Pearson, and waiting in a never-ending queue for US customs and immigration in an apparently un-air conditioned area was much more of a trial.)
Then we got to the hotel, and I discovered my cankles. Maybe air travel wasn't so good for my body afterall.
Our first full day in Boston, I left the hotel to take in the wonders of the city. I got an early start, with my first order of business being to find the local T stop and get a 3-day transit pass. I walked out the front door of the hotel and was nearly knocked over by the heat and humidity. I walked straight into the mall across the street and cut through there on my way to Lechmere station, giving myself just a little reprieve and a moment to prepare myself. I had forgotten what real summer weather was like.
During my excursions, I have moments where the humidity doesn't bother me much, and other times when I dash indoors for a few moments of air conditioned relief.
So now I'm finally convinced that we made the right decision about Italy. Even if I'd made it through the flights, I wouldn't have survived the Italian summer. Between swelling, heat and humidity, and jet lag, I'd have probably would have done little more than languish on the bed of our hotel room.
(But we did have some nice Italian food last night in Boston's Little Italy in the North End.)
Then we got our very happy news. We did a little mental math and found out I'd be probably about 30 or 31 weeks pregnant by the outbound trip (and we'd go to Germany after Italy), and so asked my GP about the advisability of the trip. He said I could be fine, but recommended cancellation insurance just in case.
After thinking about it some more, we decided to cancel completely. Werner informed both the conference organisers and his family that he wouldn't be able to make it to Europe as planned.
So on Wednesday morning, wedged into our Air Canada seats, I turned to Werner and said, "I hope this flight is just uncomfortable enough to convince me that we made the right decision on Italy." Well, as it happened, the flight was no more uncomfortable than the average Air Canada flight, and I did fairly well. (Transferring terminals at Pearson, and waiting in a never-ending queue for US customs and immigration in an apparently un-air conditioned area was much more of a trial.)
Then we got to the hotel, and I discovered my cankles. Maybe air travel wasn't so good for my body afterall.
Our first full day in Boston, I left the hotel to take in the wonders of the city. I got an early start, with my first order of business being to find the local T stop and get a 3-day transit pass. I walked out the front door of the hotel and was nearly knocked over by the heat and humidity. I walked straight into the mall across the street and cut through there on my way to Lechmere station, giving myself just a little reprieve and a moment to prepare myself. I had forgotten what real summer weather was like.
During my excursions, I have moments where the humidity doesn't bother me much, and other times when I dash indoors for a few moments of air conditioned relief.
So now I'm finally convinced that we made the right decision about Italy. Even if I'd made it through the flights, I wouldn't have survived the Italian summer. Between swelling, heat and humidity, and jet lag, I'd have probably would have done little more than languish on the bed of our hotel room.
(But we did have some nice Italian food last night in Boston's Little Italy in the North End.)
posted by Melanie A at 8:02 a.m.
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