Pond Hopper

Admitting Defeat

Last week, my husband informed me that I'm miserable.  He said the only time I smile any more is when I'm with my son.  I got defensive and very woe is me like and asked is that why I can't make any friends here - because I have an air of misery?? Followed by a quick exit of the room to go and clean something (that's what woman do.  We clean things when we're upset).  Later when I was ready to talk, I asked him, 'Is that really how you see me?' He said, 'yes, but I know why you're miserable and I know what I have to do to change it.'
So, we're going back to the States.  Wayne hopes to do it next summer, but there is a lot to be done before then so as long as it doesn't take another 2 years, I'm just glad the decision has been made.
We've talked about doing it before, but then the recession hit and our businesses suffered and the plans had to be nixed.  We're doing better now and we're going to hit the ground running.  Earlier this week, I started Wayne's Green Card application.  Once it's sent and the money is paid, it will be the official start of our long trip home.
Maybe there is no shame in admitting defeat.  Maybe me and England were never meant to be.  Five years is a long time to go without friends and without family.  I am officially admitting defeat and going back before I am forever changed by this experience.

Our trip so far(& the baby's sex)...

We arrived in the US on the 17th and since then, we haven't stopped at all.  We have been running from visit to visit and christmas shopping in between.  We've both been suffering with really bad colds for days now and I'm letting Wayne sleep in today.  Our trips back are always busy and we often return home feeling like we need a vacation to recover from our vacation.  That being said - It's been wonderul to see everyone and I'm so happy to be home.  I think we're half-way through our trip now and I'm already sad just thinking about going back.

It's been quite a ride so far - My first day here, we went to the OB/GYN to get a check up.  In the UK while pregnant, there seems to be almost no care until you get to your third trimester.  The schedule is as follows: 6-8 weeks - first midwife appointment (no exam just a meeting for medical history and a few basic blood tests). Week 12 - ultrasound & 1 screening test for downs syndrome (but no midwife appt) week 16 - 2nd midwife appointment (where they didn't even weigh me.  They checked the baby's heart rate and asked if I had any questions!  I waited 10 weeks to see her for that?).  Week 20 - 21 - last ultrasound (no midwife appointment).  Week 25-26 - 3rd midwife appointment.  I'm sure you're seeing a pattern here (I'm 5 months pregnant and I've only seen my midwife twice and have another 5 weeks until I'm due to see her again - all this while being over 35 and have had major surgery while pregnant).

My 2nd day here, I went to mu OB/GYN.  I was there from 10AM - 1:00PM.  I got a full and thorough work-up.  They did quite a few blood tests, a urine test, a full physical exam, an ultrasound and gave me every screening test available for the baby (besides anything evasive of course).  On top of that - they sent me to a high risk specialist to have an in depth ultrasound to make sure the baby was OK after going through the surgery and being exposed to anesthesia.  It's been a wonderful and comforting experinace and I'm so glad I went while here.  I can go back now feeling confident and well taken care of.

We found out we are having a boy!  I'm really excited and I see such a difference in Wayne after seeing the last two ultrasounds too.  We're feeling very much like expectant parents and have been told by many how happy we look.  We are happy - really happy and I can't wait until we meet our baby boy!

Life as I know it...

It's 6am.  I don't sleep well these days.  I don't think I've slept a good night in months.  I know I don't write as often as I should, but I find it difficult lately to find the words for what I'm thinking and feeling.  It's odd really - I've always been the sort to keep a record of my life.  I've always kept journals or found some outlet to write down my thoughts - to get it out.  I have bought 3 pregnancy journals so far, but have yet to have a pen touch one.  I can't find the words.
It's not just pregnancy though - it's the day to day life of living here and having no-one but my husband.  Since I got sick, Wayne has had to work a lot of extra hours to make up for all the time he missed when I needed him home and now he's getting ready to shut down his business for a month when we go back the states for Christmas.  I am alone more than 12 hours a day and it's wearing on me.  Some days I accept it as just the way it is, some days I think I'll go mad and others I feel like I'm just quietly disappearing. 
This house is bigger than the last and somehow makes me feel more alone.  And then there's invasion of the noise from the neighbors...  I don't want to say anything to Wayne because what can he do?  He's doing the best he can, but by the time he gets home from work around 8pm, he showers, we eat and do the the dishes we have just enough time to curl up on the couch together for some TV before I fall asleep around 11(with pregnancy I just can't seem to stay awake past 11 I only wish I could sleep through the night). 
The weekends are precious and the last month or so they have been spent packing, moving, unpacking and doing work around the house.  I can't contribute much so most of it's down to him and I still end up spending a good portion of the day by myself before he's back to work on Monday.
Every morning I get up, turn on my computer and check my email hoping for some contact before the hours I will have to wait for the time difference to not be an issue, but friends don't email - they'd rather save it for when we talk. The truth is I don't want a short and sweet email - I want the kind of correspondence where you exchange real thoughts and experiences... So throughout the week, I call my friends and family to try to stay sane and practice my social skills (I sometimes worry I have none left), but it's not the same as sitting across from someone and having conversation and human interaction.  My cats just don't cut it (although they rarely leave my side and I don't know what I'd do without them and their company).
All this while experiencing pregnancy and facing the concept of becoming a mother.  Is it no wonder I can't find the words?  All I can say is I can't wait to get home for this visit.  In 3 weeks I will have a normal life of not only the relationship with my husband, but friends, family and even the freedom of driving again (not to mention the comfort of being back in my own country and not feeling out of place all the time).

Going Home!

Last night, I booked our trip home for Christmas!  I'm so excited because this year we'll be going for nearly a month (25 days to be exact)!  We'll be leaving on Dec 17th and coming back on Jan 10th.  It's a really long trip and I'm really happy we'll be doing it this year.
I had my doubts we'd be making the trip.  We've had a lot of extra expenses lately and we've both missed a lot of work due to my surgery and recovery.  Wayne missed 2 weeks and I missed over 3.  We both have our own businesses and we don't get paid if we don't work. 
Our house has just sold so we're moving on the 16th and the move is costing a couple thousand pounds.  I also had to apply for my last and final visa last month which cost a whopping £750!
Last night, I went over my finances and worked it out that I could pay for the entire trip with my money without having to touch Wayne's account.  It's doing a number on my savings, but it's all sorted without cleaning me out.  It's really nice to be doing well enough to spend several thousand pounds without losing sleep over it.
As an update - We decided not to go through with the test I wrote about in my last entry and I can't say how much better I feel.  I'm so much more relaxed and really thrilled to be an expectant mother!  This weekend to celebrate making it through the first three months (the high risk portion of the pregnancy), we're going to go out and buy something for the baby - probably just an outfit, but it's a gesture I've been looking forward to  making.  I'm going to make sure I buy some tiny little socks and keep them near by as a reminder of the little person I can't wait to meet.
I'll be home for my 22 week ultrasound and will have to get it done in the states.  I'm glad it's worked out this way because I can share it with my family.  I sent the ultrasound photos to my family the other day and when my Mom saw a fully formed baby, she called me in tears all emotional about her daughter having a baby.  I think I'll invite her to come with us so she can be there for one of the big moments.  It's tough going through this without my friends and family.  They're going to miss so much.

Photos of our town

It's been a long time since I've shared any of my photography.  Today, I updated my Photos Section with a a new album (called 'Our Town') of photos I took around our town while Wayne's parents were visiting earlier this month.
I take for granted how beautiful it is where we live.  I've included photos of the town centre (which is on the sea front) and also the cliffs we have here (also known as 'the downs').  You will notice in some of the photos that were taken at the downs  flowers and crosses on the side of the cliffs.  Those were left by the loved ones of people who jumped from the cliffs.  Some might find this morbid or disturbing to see, but I've included them because it's a part of the experience of the downs.  I've been told that more suicides take place there than anywhere in all of Europe (about 25 a year according to an article I read on the BBC News website).  It's a sad fact and as beautiful as the place is - it can't be ignored.  I love going to the downs. I think it's the most beautiful place I've seen in England (and it's right here in our town), but that being said - it's also a solemn place to visit and I can't help to think about those poor souls who ended their lives there. It's out of respect for them I've included the photos.

Re: My first NHS experience...

I've had a few responses to my NHS entry and feel I should make one important point I didn't mention.  Many of my readers are expats that are here because they are married to British citizens.  If you have a spouse visa, you may come across the same problem I had when I first got my visa and I think it's important to make sure others are well informed...
Once I got my spouse visa,  and went to my local GP for the first time to be treated for a nasty flu thinking I was eligible for care through the NHS.  Upon arrival, I was told that because it said on my visa 'No recourse to public funds' I was not eligible for NHS care and was sent away without even having my temperature taken.  I went the next year without care for  an arthritic illness that I need treatment for from time to time and didn't like being refused treatment. 
We were really frustrated with the situation.  Wayne thought it must be a mistake so I did some research.  I found on an immigration support website, that this was in fact the case.  I called my GP's office and explained the situation.  I gave then the web address for them to refer to, but they wanted no part of it and abruptly told me I was wrong and was not eligible for care in their office.  I did more research made quite a few calls and was finally put through to the office that was in charge of the NHS in my area.  I finally got someone to help me.  He registered me to the local GP, sent me my NHS card and it was finally taken care of.
Unfortunately, I was already tainted by the situation and the bad experience I had in that office and until I got pregnant (almost a year later), never saw the inside if their office.  I just had no desire to deal with them.
I'm sharing this story so that expats that are here on a spouse visa know their rights and know the actions to take to resolve it if they come across the same sort of thing.

Big things on my mind...

Keeping this blog is tricky at times.  More times than not, I write when I need to feel more connected to the rest of the world.  It's 9:30 in the morning.  Wayne has left for work and until I go to the gym later today, I won't speak to another soul until it's at least late enough to call someone back home.  I have big things on my mind; things that seem inappropriate to share with the rest of the world rather than someone I'm close to.  This is what makes this blog so tricky.  When is it just plain inappropriate to blog about what's on my mind?  Maybe it's not so much this blog that makes it difficult -  maybe it's living here and not having a circle of friends to go to when I need to share the very personal aspects of my life.  Sometimes I feel very cut off.  Sometimes I can just scream out of the frustration of it all.  It's been nearly three years and I want more than anything to just get used to it being this way.  I want more than anything to just accept it as it is and be fine with it.  It appears it's not going to happen. 
All I want to do right now is call my friends and meet them for lunch so I can discuss the big things that are on my mind.  Instead, I'll throw myself into the work I have to do to distract myself, wait for it to be late enough to be able to call the states, and hope I get through to someone who has some time to talk...

A friend's words of wisdom

I recieved an email from a friend today offering her support after yesterday's dreary entry.  She told me she knows how I feel having spent a lot of time in Italy (her husband is Italian and now lives in the States with the intention of becoming a citizen).  She told me not to let it get to me too much.  She said,'You have lived here and you know what this country is about.  Yes, we have a shitty leader, but he does not define us and you were here during 9/11 to see what being an American truly means.'

That statement says it all.  When 9/11 happened America changed and what it means to be American changed as well.  People here don't understand our Patriotism.  They think it's strange that we pledge allegiance to the flag and stand for our national anthem.  Yes, we've always done that, but since 9/11 I think we all stand a bit taller.

Being from NJ, living so close to NY, 9/11 hit me hard (as I'm sure it did all of the US).  I went to school with someone that died that day. One of my best friends is married to a NYC fireman, and nearly everyone I know either knew someone that died (some knew several) or knew someone who lost someone.  It was a time I will never forget.  It was a time we all joined together and our American pride got even stronger.  I remember seeing George Bush standing there in the rubble, making his speech and feeling inspired and admiring him as our leader.  It's amazing to me to look back on that because now, I hate the site of that man.  At the time, I guess I needed to believe in him and under times of such sadness, we can make ourselves see things that aren't there in order to find comfort.

Living here and having to deal with the anti-Americanism has been difficult at best.  I love my country and although there are a lot of things I don't like about it, I am still proud to be an American. My friend is right - they don't know what our country is really about.  And yes, we have a shitty leader, but he does not define us.  I was there on 9/11 and even though I couldn't articulate it if I tried - I know what it truly means to be American and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Here we go again...

When I heard about the shootings yesterday, my first thought was how horrible it was for the victims and their loved ones.  As it unfolded and the numbers grew, I must admit I started having more and more feelings of dread over the media coverage and the debate that would follow.  I knew it would turn into a frenzy of American bashing.  I knew it would turn into an excuse to pick on the American way of life and I couldn't help but think - here we go again.
This morning, while eating my breakfast, I chose to stay away from American news channels - afraid to hear the things I knew would fuel the opinions of the British public.  I wanted to stay away from hearing the Americans that choose to take this opportunity to fight for the right to bare arms.  I chose BBC News 24 and sat there content with watching stories unrelated to the tragic massacre that took place yesterday.  Wayne came down for breakfast, picked up the remote and changed it over to the talk radio station he was listening to upstairs.  The bashing had begun.
They had an American guest on who was of course defending our right to carry a gun.  He spoke of the constitution and freedom (as I listened I cringed and my blood pressure rose).  I sat there and listened to random people call in to talk about the stupidity of Americans and one person say how perverse our way of life is.  I listened as American expats called in to make their opinions known (none for the gun culture in the US) and all the while I thought - I just don't want to hear it - none of this is going to change a thing!
I've turned it off now that Wayne left for work.  I just don't have the heart for it.  The last thing I heard was something about why 'Americans' continue to let things like this happen.  As if we have any control over it.  As a victim of a gun crime myself, I'm not for the gun culture in the US, but the problem is too big.  If you take the licensed guns away, how will people defend themselves against all of the illegal guns that are on the street?  Until, they tackle that problem - how can you take away the right to defend yourself?  Wayne says you have to start somewhere - stop selling the guns - stop making the guns - stop handing licenses out.  I agree with all of that and that something as to be done, but where do you start? 
I'm so fed up with being here for such events.  I'm so fed up with things happening that puts a shameful spin on my nationality.  I'm so fed up with feeling like the outsider all of the time and feeling so lonely the minute Wayne walks out the door in the morning.  I really want to go home.

Ohhh, Now I get it!

When I wrote the entry below, I didn't realize that the article I wrote about was actually written by a British expat living in NY (opposed to an American fluent in English).  The expat was making fun of fellow Brits - hence the subheading in big red letters...
When I read the article, I was quite busy with work, but it caught my attention so I quickly read it through.  So quickly that I missed the subheading which made it quite clear it was a British person that wrote it and I also didn't notice that there was a second page! This new realization (thanks to Jersey Girl) makes the article a lot more funny and much more appropriate.
That being said, I'm leaving the entry below because I still think it's relevant (albeit not to the article, but to how we look at other cultures living in our country).