Things on my to-do-once-I-move-to-Manitoba list:

Get married? Check.

Buy a house? Done.

Have a baby…  any time now!

Yep, my husband and I will welcome our first child very shortly, and since pregnancy is such a major life event, the last nine months have given me a real education in expectation. Reflecting on it all  has inspired me to share a bit about what I’ve discovered – I hope it will be of some use to fellow expectant parents in the city.  I’m certainly no pro, but I have managed to figure some things out!

Doctors, Obstetricians & Midwives

One of the most frustrating things about moving to a new city is getting yourself set up with new healthcare providers.  When I found out I was pregnant, I hadn’t yet found a family doctor, and that was pretty stressful (as if there aren’t other things on your mind when you’re in your first trimester, like not throwing up!). The Family Doctor Connection did not prove to be particularly helpful – I wound up just searching the internet for Winnipeg medical clinics accepting new patients and eventually did get into one.

Eventually I was referred to an obstetrician who think is great, but when I found out that pregnant women in Manitoba can choose to work with a doctor or a midwife, I was disappointed that I hadn’t pursued the latter option. Fortunately, we’ve been able to somewhat bridge the differing styles of prenatal care by hiring a doula who has been meeting with us regularly over the last few months, and who will be with us when our baby is born.

Midwives are funded through the province of Manitoba and can generally attend hospital and home births. Be forewarned, though: there’s a shortage of midwives in the province. According to this Free Press item, the province funds about 40, but needs more like 200.  Apparently, the College of Midwives is turning away more than half the people who want a midwifery birth. You can see a list of all midwife practices here. (Midwives support low-risk home and hospital births – pretty cool.)

Hospital Births

In Winnipeg, only St. Boniface Hospital and the Health Sciences Centre (HSC) have maternity wards.  I’ll be delivering at St. B,  which is made up of private, LDRP (labour/delivery/recovery/postpartum) rooms, and semi-private rooms. You can take a monthly “virtual tour” of the St. B maternity ward every 2nd Thursday of the month. The first half hour/45 minutes is a powerpoint presentation by an anaesthesiologist, addressing drug options for labour. The second half is a slide show and presentation by a labour & delivery nurse, and for me, this part of the presentation was much more valuable. The nurse shared when to come to the hospital, and what to bring, and answered the question that everyone wants to know: how do I get a private LDRP room? (The answer is sort of complicated, but I was relieved to know that even if you don’t get an LDRP room, you still have your own room for labour, delivery, and recovery. It’s only after the delivery that you’ll be sharing a room.)

Also of great interest to me is the construction of a free-standing birthing centre (“Women’s Health Clinic”) that is scheduled to begin by Spring of 2011. It’s expected to handle 500 births per year, and “will include a primary-care clinic and four birthing rooms, and facilities for education and counselling.” (CBC News item)

Ultrasounds

Sorry ladies, this ain’t the United States, where if you believe what you see on A Baby Story, you’d get a whole bunch of chances to see your little one in utero. In Manitoba, I’ve been told, and it was my experience, that unless you’re high risk, you’ll probably get one ultrasound at around 20 weeks. And it’s for medical purposes, not to determine the sex of the baby. (Don’t bother to ask if it’s a boy or a girl, because apparently they won’t tell you! At St. B, anyway. I’m not sure about HSC.) At St. Boniface, you can order a DVD of your ultrasound for $50 (allow  weeks for processing). This was a hard reality for me to learn, since all I wanted was one snapshot to show family and friends, and tuck into a baby book. In the end we opted save some money (am I becoming a frugal Winnipegger, or what??) and to forego the ultrasound DVD. If you’re willing to pay, BabyMoon and UC Baby are private ultrasound clinics that offer a variety of photo/DVD/etc. packages.

Doulas (a.k.a. labour coaches)

As I mentioned earlier, we found a wonderful doula through Birth Roots Doula Collective who has been meeting with us over the last few months and will be with us when I go into labour. She has been an excellent source of information, reassurance, and support and we feel very lucky to be working with her. While doulas (personal labour coaches) aren’t paid for by the province, most have a sliding scale fee policy… we are paying the full Birth Roots price at $575+tax. Other organizations such as MACFE (a non-profit) charge less.

Incidentally, word on the street is that doula services in Manitoba are way underpriced. A friend of mine in Calgary who is also expecting looked into getting a doula, and the least expensive service they found cost $900. I have heard that doulas in Toronto often charge $1000. We’ve had such a positive experience with our doula so far that I’m sure we would happily pay a higher rate, if it were required.

Prenatal classes, activities & networking

One of the downsides of moving away from your old friends is that once “baby fever” hits your gang, you may find, as I did, that you want to be around other expectant mothers but don’t know any! Fortunately I’ve been able to meet some other pregnant women through prenatal classes and prenatal yoga, both of which are held at Birth Roots. I’ve especially enjoyed the 8-week yoga class, as we generally had group discussions both before and after the class. Moksha Yoga also offers prenatal yoga, and the Winnipeg Leisure Guide lists several pre-and postnatal (and pre-/postnatal friendly) classes including yoga, aquafit, exercise, etc.

Two online forums have been somewhat useful, too: Baby Center’s Parents in Manitoba board and What to Expect’s Canadian Parents board.

Maternity & baby clothing and gear

I’ve had a lot of luck finding gently worn maternity clothes at Mom’s and Children’s Paradise, got my winter coat at Motherhood Maternity, and almost never left Thyme without something cute! As for baby gear, a colleague told me early on to watch the Zellers flyers because they routinely have big sales in the baby department… and it’s true, they do! E-Children is a smaller chain whose Winnipeg store in located in the Exchange, and they have really lovely cribs, bassinets, bedding, furniture, etc. there. We purchased cloth diapers from a local mother/daughter team who runs Canada’s Diaper Ladies. I’ve also heard good things about AMP Diapers.

And again, I wouldn’t be a thrifty Winnipegger if I didn’t scope out a bunch of garage sales a couple weekends back, and score a bunch of barely-used clothes, a Snugli, and a diaper bag for a fraction of what they would have cost new. (On a related note, this year I discovered that there are somewhat regular “community garage sales” where entire neighbourhoods plan their sales on the same weekend… I visited the Whyte Ridge sales on May 8, and the Linden Woods sale is right around the corner on June 5.)

I’ve also made excellent use of Winnipeg Public Library‘s extensive collection of pregnancy and baby name books. I’m looking forward to taking the little one to some WPL programming eventually, too!

Anyway, that’s about it (I know, this was a novel) from me on this topic. I’d love to hear about others’ experiences, tips, and comments about preparing for a baby in Manitoba… it can be an overwhelming and anxious time of life, so the more we can share with each other, the better

Note from Emma: I’m excited to introduce you all to Winnipeg O’ My Heart’s very first guest blogger… welcome, Ian!

Hello, loyal readers of WoMH. As you may know, this little prairie blog started off with three fine contributors, of which only Emma has remained to hold down the fort.  Well fear not for the future, because I am here to reverse the exodus trend. My name is Ian and I hope to make a semi-regular contribution to WoMH, to add my own thoughts and observations on this great city as seen through the eyes of a newcomer to Winnipeg and Manitoba. I am, coincidently, also an ex-pat British Columbian who moved out here for a career change and new opportunities and adventures.

I am just days away from my one year ‘Pegiversary, which I believe commenced when I was issued my funky (and now sadly defunct) two-piece Manitoba drivers’ license.  In this short time, I have explored many of Winnipeg’s diverse neighbourhoods, partaken in its cultural events from the symphony to the social, the fringe festival to Folkorama. I have also walked in the sand at Grand Beach, visited the Icelandic museum in Gimli and ridden the train to the northern reaches of Manitoba (where I happened to spend most of my first Manitoba winter!!!) But now I am back in the ‘Peg, living and working downtown and eagerly awaiting my second summer in the city (this time with more sun!).

So that’s a brief introduction of my story.  I hope that you’ll enjoy my occasional observations, kudos and critiques of life at junction of the Red and Assiniboine (I can finally spell that name!) rivers.  Cheers, and enjoy this wonderful weather while it lasts!

–Ian

Tonight’s the night of the “world’s biggest social”, held in honour of Manitoba’s 140th birthday. I’ve been to exactly one social in my almost two years in Winnipeg (two Bud Spud & Steaks, though!) and that’s probably enough for me… I won an incredibly awesome prize that fateful night and would like to keep that record intact!

I still feel a little conflicted about the concept of fundraising for weddings, even though it seems like it’s basically the same pool of money (and crushing sense of guilt and obligation) that passes from one couple to the next, which I am happily exempted from since I didn’t grow up here and don’t really get it. But I can say for certain that it’s a brilliant concept for fundraising in general, especially when the proceeds are going towards community development projects and, in the case of the Winnipeg social tonight, the Health Sciences Centre Foundation, CancerCare Manitoba Foundation and Children’s Hospital Research Foundation of Manitoba.

I’m book-clubbing it up tonight, so cube cheese and rye bread are not in the picture for me, but there’s some good pre-emptive coverage of what’s in store for social goers tonight in today’s Free Press: ”Ain’t no party like a Manitoba party“. The articles includes tips & memories from fellow bloggers Ben MacPhee- Sigurdson and ChrisD as well as from other prominent ‘Peggers. It also includes a list of 20 essential social songs, which is eerily similar to the standard setlist of every junior high dance I ever went to.

Hope you get your fill of C&C Music Factory, pretzels on paper plates, and kolbassa a-plenty. And my fingers are crossed that you win the silent auction prize you want the most!

Just a little plug for one of the events happening in Neepawa during Manitoba Homecoming 2010.

On Thursday May 13, there will be two presentations of Of Songs and Battles (“De chants et de batailles”), a fascinating look at the history of Francophone community in Manitoba, produced by the CJP.  I had the pleasure of seeing this reading (accompanied by live music from Kin) last year at the CUSB and left the event feeling proud, inspired, angry, and in awe of the tireless efforts of francophones in this province.

Are you planning on going to the world’s largest social (at any of the 63 satellite locations), or any other events during the 4-day blitz in Neepawa? Let me know how it goes!

…but hearing that Manitoba may soon go to 10-digit dialing makes me a bit sad. Apparently, Manitoba will get a new area code (probably 431) and you’ll have to dial an area code before any local numbers sometime in 2012.

I’d gotten used to 10-digit dialing in Vancouver – I didn’t really question it, as there are so many people, and therefore phones, in the Lower Mainland that it only made sense. But when I was growing up in southern Alberta, it had always been 7-digit dialing. It was a huge deal when they added a second area code for northern Alberta, but it wasn’t hard to get used to, either. Then, on a recent trip home, I couldn’t figure out why my local calls weren’t going through. “You have to dial 403,” my mum told me. And so Alberta had gone 10-digit, too.

Lots of people speak wistfully about the good old days of party lines or when everyone had the same first three digits, so that when someone gave you their phone number, you only had to remember the last four. In the same quasi-nostalgic way, I guess I’d always thought it was quaint, or charming, or something, that here in little old Winnipeg, we don’t have to dial an area code. But now it looks like those days are coming to an end.

It’s a seemingly trivial thing, I know. Anyone else a bit verklempt over this, too?

Among all the lovely scenes in Carol Shields’ novel The Republic of Love, one of my favourites is where the female protagonist, Fay, describes what a small world it is when you live in this city:

“The population of Winnipeg is six hundred thousand, a fairly large city, with people who tend to stay put. Families overlap with families, neighborhoods with neighborhoods. You can’t escape it. Generations interweave so that your mother’s friends … formed sort of a squadron of secondary aunts. You were always running into someone you’d gone to school with or someone whose uncle worked with someone else’s father. The tentacles of connection were long, complex, and full of bitter or amusing ironies that characterize blood families. …

Some days, she can wait anonymously in the bus shelter at River and Osborne and speak to no one, and the next day she’ll run into any number of acquaintances. These surprises used to drive Peter crazy, the oppressive clannishness they implied and the embarrassments, but Fay again and again is reassured and comforted to be a part of a knowable network.”

This very passage is one I read ten years ago and decided that Winnipeg was a place I’d like very much live. And although when I moved here I had only one close friend in the city, I had behind me many generations of Manitobans: a vast array of aunts, uncles, cousins and a couple surviving grandparents.  Once I started dating my future husband, Michel, there would be many more opportunities for our families’ stories to intersect. The connections started presenting themselves at a somewhat alarmingly frequent rate.  For instance, we discovered that my sister-in-law’s brother had taught my cousins at Collège Jeanne-Sauvé. It also turned out those same cousins had once visited Michel’s family farm on a school field trip, and indeed eaten a meal with his parents! Another two sets of crossed paths are detailed in Aaron’s post “All Roads Lead to Portage and Main“.

Although a little less tangible, perhaps my favourite Winnipeg coincidence involves my late  maternal grandfather, who owned a successful Winnipeg dance school back in the day. When I happened to mention his name to Michel, he couldn’t believe it — he’d grown up seeing commercials for his dance studio on TV. In fact, he said, he was sure he’d written about Ken Mathews in a short story in school. A few weeks later, we happened to be cleaning his apartment and amazingly, came across the story he’d written some fifteen years earlier. And sure enough, he described his protagonist as being able to “play hockey like Wayne Gretzky, play tennis like Pete Sampras, and dance like Ken Mathews.” I found it incredibly endearing. (More recently, he found out that one of my uncles used to play for the Jets, and pronounced that he didn’t know he’d married “Winnipeg Royalty”. Ha!)

I’ve never really been able to explain why I felt that Winnipeg was home. I don’t know what it was that made me think this city — a city that I had no real adult experience with — was where I was meant to be. The prairies part was easy enough to figure out – I grew up on them, and had been away too long, I guess. But as for the city itself? My parents had met and married here, my brothers were born here, but neither of those facts really have much to do with me. Or do they? Maybe it was the fact that every major roadtrip my family took when I was growing up was to Manitoba.  Maybe it was the constant backdrop of Winnipeg references: the house on Lenore, or Marshall Crescent. The Christmas tree at King’s Drive. Or my personal favourite: The Fort Richmond Zellers cafeteria, where, in the 70s, my mum and her best friend would smoke cigarettes and get French fries for the kids.

But it worked out. All these funny coincidences, these random connections, they seem to serve as some sort of proof that I was here even when I wasn’t here. And I like that feeling a lot. Perhaps it’s as simple as what Carol Shields wrote: geography is destiny.  In The Republic of Love, when Fay and Tom finally meet, they realise there’s actually an intricate web of connections between them. That’s how I think of my life here: not just because of the connections my husband and I had before we knew each other, but because how else explain my decision to move here?

Anyway, what got me to thinking about all this was was Kyla Roma’s recent post, “Moments from a Prairie Winter“. Kyla writes:

“I know why people choose to leave here, because you don’t get a big city life. You don’t have hundreds of clubs to choose from, the big artists don’t come through, and the big stores tend to pass us by. You don’t have the mountains of Vancouver or the city chic of Toronto. And it can be claustrophobic. Live here for a while, and when you talk to almost anyone long enough you will find a connection to them through ex-employers, friends, hockey teams, or distant aunts and uncles. Sometimes that can be hard, and people want to define themselves without having to run into their entire graduating class when they’re grocery shopping.

But the wonderful thing is that if you choose to stay, you can be known. You can run into friends everywhere and meet people easily. You can take the time that you are sealed in under sheets of ice to get your passions off the ground and into flight. You can go to underground shows, and know who’s who. You can line dry your clothes and have raspberry bushes in the middle of the city.”

I think this is the blessing and the curse of Winnipeg. I didn’t go to school here, so there’s no risk of me running into my entire graduating class while I’m grocery shopping. In fact, the very idea of that is probably what motivated me to leave my hometown eight years ago.  Now, bumping into someone I know is a pleasure, a small reminder of this little big city and my place within it. No matter how I wound up here, I’m glad I did.

Inspired by Greg G’s recent blog post, I thought I’d share my own list of dream Winnipeg-related Jeopardy categories. (This meme comes from Douglas Coupland’s excellent novel, Microserfs, which is probably one of my all-time faves.) I’m still a relative newcomer to the city, but here are a few categories I’m pretty sure I could ace:

• Size and Locality of Potholes on the Disraeli Bridge and Overpass, circa March
• Common Typographical Errors by Commenters on the Winnipeg Free Press Website
• Odds of Vegetarian Entree Availability at Catered Events
• Winnipeg Wrap Form & Function

Aaaaaand a few I’m sure I would fail miserably at:

• Underground Navigation of Portage & Main
• Social Music 101
• Minnesota/North Dakota peasant-vision ads of the 80s

Okay, so I know they’re not standard Jeopardy-type categories, but I had fun coming up with them.

What are your dream (or dreaded) Winnipeg-related Jeopardy categories?

In the midst of Boulevard, the big kick off for Festival du Voyageur 2010, I found myself thinking about what life must be like right now in my old city, Vancouver. Since I moved here a year and a half ago, I’ve often thought of the friends and colleagues I had there, but I never really thought too much about how the city was doing, aside, of course, from being glad I wasn’t there for the chaos I was sure the Olympics would bring. Last night, that changed a little bit.

Decked out with our macarons and our voyageur sashes (I couldn’t find my prized Clou’Donc glove in time), we had enjoyed the live music on Provencher, checked out this year’s Festival merch (the beard t-shirts? awesome!), had a little pea soup, and taken in the fireworks (I’d never seen fireworks in the winter before – pretty neat!). Counting dogs wearing clothes along the way (Vancouver doesn’t have a total monopoly on that!) we made our way down to Garage Cafe, where we planned to catch the Johnny Cajun show. Alas, we were way too late: the place was packed and the chances of us getting a table were nil.

As we stood there, mulling over our options, our eyes were drawn to the TV tuned to the broadcast of the 2010 Games opening ceremonies. Laurel and I were oddly captivated. From there, headed to the Parc du Voyageur to check out the Snow Sports Bar, where we knew they’d be playing the ceremonies, too. The Parc was buzzing with excitement and good music rose into the night. Sure enough, the outdoor snow bar had a massive screen set up, and lots of people were watching intently or not-so-intently. Ice cups of caribou were everywhere. (We were all abstaining, for one reason or another, so no caribou or Fort Gibraltar lager for us… boo!)

After having explored all the tents and checked out some of this year’s snow sculptures, we realised we were tired and decided to head back home and see if we could catch the end of the opening ceremonies. Back home with our boots and mitts off, we caught the last hour or so of the ceremonies. Watching the elaborate and impressive show, I felt both proud and disconcerted, in a way. Proud to be Canadian, proud to have once called the host city home. Proud of our musical and literary talents and our sporting heros. Proud that Canada had the opportunity to wow the world, and didn’t fail!

But also disconcerted: the amount of money that must have been spent on this one event is staggering — with the nation’s poorest postal code just blocks away, and the devastation in Haiti still fresh in our minds, one can’t help but think of what that money could be better spent on.  And after a celebration of Canada’s diverse culture, it was hard not to notice that the Olympic flagbearers and torchlighters were all caucasian. Seeing footage of Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili’s fatal accident on the news afterwards had me feeling solemn and uneasy as  I headed to bed.

Watching Gretzky travel down the streets of my old stomping ground, memories of my five years in Vancouver rushed back. For as much grumbling as locals had been doing ever since the host city was announced in July 2003, just months after I’d made the city home, it must have been an amazing night for everyone who found themselves on the streets of downtown Vancouver. Earlier this week I’d received an email from my old boss, who said that the office was really getting into the spirit of things, with theme days, prizes, and flexible work schedules to accommodate everyone. From her window, she said, she could see the zipline that had been installed over Robson Square, and they were having fun watching the aerial view of organizers testing it out. It seems that despite everyone’s worst-case thinking, the Games had actually arrived, and everything was actually pretty cool.

Something I thought would never happen, happened: I found myself thinking, “It wouldn’t be so bad to be there right now.” But I was also thinking how if I were there, I wouldn’t be here, in Winnipeg. This city that throws a half-outdoor party in the middle of winter, that celebrates the snow and cold with music and food and fun and games. And it throws this party every year!

The world’s biggest party is in Vancouver and British Columbia right now, and I’m glad I can tune in to the coverage every now and then (a Winnipegger’s gotta watch her curling!). But I wouldn’t miss the party happening in my own backyard for the world.

Okay, so it’s a cheap ripoff of “Love Me, Love My Winnipeg”, but I hope it got your attention, because this is a really important topic.

Some of you may know that when I’m not blogging about Winnipeg, I run the library at a law firm. I’ve been working in the library field since 2003, and I love my job! Even though I work in the private sector, I still feel pretty passionately about supporting other types of libraries, especially public and school libraries.

A few weeks ago, library CUPE Local 500 members took to the streets outside the Millennium Branch of the Winnipeg Public Library, handing out information about their Positively Public campaign and  trying to raise awareness about cuts to library funding. I got one of these pamphlets and have been thinking about it ever since. I had just started to formulate this post when I got an email from a blog reader on the same topic. This is an issue on many citizens’ minds.

If you care about the Winnipeg Public Library, you should let your city councillor know that you’re opposed to budget cuts that will  reduce staffing  and funding to our valuable community institution. The City of Winnipeg’s Adopted Operating Budget 2009 shows that jobs have been (and will continue to be) eliminated and overall library funding will be cut (see pp.108-109). Plus, they’re talking about outsourcing (privatizing) the cataloguing department.

This is despite steadily rising visits to the library (both in-person and to the library’s website), increasing numbers of library card holders, increasing computer bookings and use of online databases. It makes no sense to me.

I really believe that people use the library more and less at different times of their lives. Many talk about library use going up during times of economic difficulty, but I think it’s more than that. To give just one example: a young professional with tons of disposable income may not think of going to the library all that often. But a few years down the road when that young professional is now a young parent, the library with its endless supply of kids’ books and CDs and free, quality programming starts to look a little more appealing. Even if libraries don’t seem that important to you just now, I guarantee that you will be grateful for them at some point down the road. Your neighbours will be, too.

Libraries aren’t just about books – far from it. They are community institutions that promote literacy, provide access to information, offer cultural and entertainment activities, support newcomers, students, and job-seekers, provide resources in alternate formats for people with disabilities… the list is endless. Every cut to library funding takes away from what services WPL can offer. We’re not just talking about fewer book acquisitions, we’re talking short staffing, longer waits for service, and fewer programs.

So, the best thing you can do is let your city councillor know that you want to see increases, not decreases, to the WPL’s staffing and overall funding. The best people to run a community institution are the library that live in the community, so be sure also let your feelings about outsourcing be known. A recent article in the Globe & Mail explained how to get a politician’s attention (tip: a personal e-mail is often the best way). And, oh yeah, keep using your library! (I’m off to email my councillor.)

Over at The World According to Ace, Ace Burpee posted about the massive success of the Hot 103 “I Heart Haiti” t-shirt campaign:  ”It’s not out of the question to think that we may have created a $100,000 charity t–shirt. Keep it going. We’re on board. This is a great town.”

Very cool, and also not surprising. In December ’09, the Fraser Institute’s Generosity Index ranked Manitoba as the most generous province in Canada — for the 10th year in a row! Makes me proud to call this province home.

For information on legit organizations to donate in support of disaster relief in Haiti, including ways to text donations, visit www.cbc.ca/haitirelief/.