Wishing for June

Can you see my toes?

The past week has been really busy. We had Steve's parents visiting for our long weekend which was great. Unfortunately the skies opened and remained so for the duration of their visit, but with brollies in hand and our spirits high, we were able to do most everything we planned. We visited some of Bogota's fine tourist attractions (of which, there are painfully few) and they enjoyed their first trip to South America, picking up key words like 'ganga' along the way. Our apartment, despite having three rooms, but just one bed, is very 'cozy' for visitors, but they were good sports. Traveling in taxis, fitting in elevators and sitting on couches all together, it suddenly became apparent that everything in Colombia is smaller. Even meeting them at the airport, we were 5 rows back in the crowd to meet and greet, being blocked by umbrellas and ciagarettes galore, but I could still see over our fellow country-men! That's true, despite the fact that I feel I've shrunk and inch or so with the extra 20 pounds of bones, tissue and liquid in me! We were exhausted by the end of their visit, but happy exhausted, and last week of school proved a trying one, once more. On Tuesday, Human Resources contacted me to say they were sorry but that as I am not Colombian, I am not entitled to maternity leave, and since I won't be extending my contract, I am also not entitled to a visa-extension, meaning I have to be out of here by June 30. Obviously, with our official due date the 25th of June, this doesn't leave us much breathing room. I spent the rest of the week investigating laws and rights and it all culminated on Friday with a trip to the Ministry of Labor and Immigration where I was assured that the rubbish situation I had been told of by my school was in fact nothing more than rubbish. My school, a self-proclaimed business, not school, has a reputation for taking money that is not theirs and it's since become apparent they were going to claim for my leave and keep the money. I am so fed-up with the administration, and if it weren't for the loyalty to the students, I'd have quit last Wednesday. The Colombian government officials I've dealt with were most sympathetic (once again, my bump seems to enhance all emotions) and they've offered me a free lawyer, if it comes to that. I'm confident it will be sorted, but I would not advise any of you inspired by this aventura Bogotana to apply to my place of employment! Steve's school has caused us similar grief as they failed to submit all of our medical insurance papers on time when we arrived in August and so when I went for my first appointment and was pregnant, it became a pre-existing. We now pay out of pocket for all of our appointments and are still waiting for them to supposedly fix their oversight. Our condo is now rented, all funds cleared, but our mortgage was just raised by $150 a month because of town taxes. Steve is still without a job, so we have no promise of insurance back in Boston, but we're applying for State Health Insurance and are hopeful that will materialize in time. Finally, my U.S. visa application is coming together and our final interview is next Monday at 7am. That, too, has cost a great deal of money, but at least it means I'll have the option of waitressing by night back on the North Shaw!! When it rains in Bogotá, it definitely pours. Thank goodness we have so many wonderfully happy things to think about. 34 weeks now! Technically, Baby D could be here any day. I had my fundal height measured again the other day, which is a method taken from the 70s that generally provides an vague idea as to whether the baby is too big or too small. At 33 weeks, you should measure, from pubic bone to the top of the bump/uterus, 33 inches. I was 36, according to the latest measurement. They are not overly accurate, but I'm hoping that if Baby D. really is big that he/she will come soon! We are too excited and despite being spoiled by my hubby and friends, most unexpectedly, for Mother's Day yesterday, I am so ready for the real thing! Watch this space...

Here is a photo of my arm 1 hour after I was tortured by an unknowing U.S. Visa nurse! The bruises are much, much worse today, but I don't have a camera!

And here is a photo of us with Steve's parents.