And just like that (click) it all changes

 The birth of my son shelled me and softened me. Before you start your tirade of how much harder it was for Cambrie:

    1) I know.
    2) I am invested in this. We're in this together.
    3) Don't minimize the role of a partner. It doesn't help.

Now you can go ahead with your tirade, I'll listen.

Here were some thoughts I had along with a bit of a journal entry.
9 months (and one week) in the making but he was finally on his way Monday morning at 5am. We only had a few hours of sleep that night (what fools we were then. What children! Throwing away precious sleep like some piece of over-burnt toast. Cherish that sleep-toast past-Bryce. Cherish it like the sweet, scarce commodity that it is!). The contractions slowly increased in intensity and regularity until 11am when we decided to go to the hospital. 

Cambrie is tough. 

I had my phone ready to call a taxi and Cambrie stopped me. 

"I want to take the bus."

"Excuse me, did you say you want to take the bus while you're in LABOR?"

"The contractions are less painful when I stand."

"..."

So we took the bus.

At the hospital she went through contractions until two. The midwife (really great people, midwives) and I did our best to support her and try every possible position. This went on every few minutes or so until 2 when it was time to start pushing. The midwife's shift ended and a couple more came to take over. That's when you know this is taking too long.

She pushed for 1.5 hours. Tears poured down her reddened face between contractions. She did all of this with no medication. 

Finally it was determined that the baby was in the wrong position and couldn't be corrected. After all her struggle, a c-section was strongly recommended.

"A c-section was sweet release after what I went through" -Cambrie
I sat near her and held her hand in the operating room. By this time they had stopped the contractions and numbed her lower half. She was splayed on the operating table in such a manner that the verse in John "Marvel not that I said unto thee, ye must be born again". At that instant there was more in those words than I had ever seen. Suffering and pain of both parties is inescapable in the beginning of life.

My mind was flooded with emotions and fears, but in the middle of these hard times life becomes much clearer somehow. The most important things in the world to me were right here. I prayed to God that he would watch over my wife and child.

I watched as the doctors cut open my wife and pulled my son from her. The first time I held him in my arms there was an immediate change in me. I can't explain it except that I guess biologically this is what I am meant to do. To protect him and love him. I held him in my right hand and held Cambrie's now violently trembling hand with my left. 

I watched as the doctors massaged her organs and put them back inside her body. It is still insane to me that a human can have that happen to them. That she was cut open, another human was pulled out, then she was stapled back together.

After the surgery we all went back to our room and the whirlwind continued. Tests, cuddles, more tests, skin-to-skin, instructions on how to keep him alive. That's basically how the next several days went. We had never been happier, more exhausted, more in pain (Cambrie), or more overwhelmed before.

The hospital is situated across the Aare river from our house with a beautiful view of Bern. I couldn't stop taking pictures of the view, of my new son. I felt so cliché and predictable doing it, but I couldn't help it. It doesn't often snow in Bern, but it seemed like the clouds opened up and snow drifted down just for our new little boy.

Thoughts on scarcity

"Not the blood, sir. But all of a man's water, ultimately, belongs to his people-to his tribe...the human body is composed of some seventy percent water by weight. A dead man, surely, no longer requires that water" -Dune, by Frank Herbert

A roommate from college challenged me to read the book in 2008. I made some dismissive gesture with one of my eyebrows (especially after seeing a clip from the 1984 movie). Now, 12 years later I finally took the challenge. The book brings home some hard truths (it's also kind of strange, but that's neither here nor there). 

Here on planet Earth we face Dune's problem. 790 Million People. That is 1 in 10 people who don't have consistent access to clean water. Such a basic aspect of life that I so often take for granted. The last time I was truly thirsty is actually documented in this blog. I complained incessantly and have rarely felt so miserable. 

I can't help thinking about how much excess I have without necessarily appreciating it. How much of that excess should I morally/ethically keep for myself? If I believe that every human is equal (I think I do), then when do I start acting like I believe that? At what point am I comfortable enough with my life that I start reaching outside my own bubble? Looking beyond those right in front of my own face?

In the later stages of Cambrie's pregnancy, and with the ever-present pandemic lurking in the shadows of my thoughts I have not travelled around Switzerland as much. But that has not stopped me from trying to get to know the city I live in. Bern has so many things. One is water. There are 100+ fountains scattered around the city. Think of it. 1 in 10 people in the world don't have access to clean water, yet here it is pouring out of fountains and down channels in the street. Clean, cold, potable water. 

Here are a few of them:

This one is right outside my house. Yes, that's a tiny bear with a gun. Switzerland.

Out of these the most disturbing is perhaps the third picture. One of a man eating babies. Again, Switzerland.

Beyond the fountains, on the backdrop of the city runs the river Aare. The life of this city. Ask a Bernese citizen about the Aare and a dreamy look sweeps across their face. Tradition pulls people into the water in the summers to float down the river. 

This is along my favorite run near my house:

This is comes out as a jumbled mess of my thoughts on scarcity as I experience it (or rather, don't experience it). What I'm trying to get at is that I realize that I live in a bubble. Not just living in a place with access to water, but having access to health care, a stable job in the middle of a worldwide pandemic that has torn the lives of millions to tiny shreds of worry. I want to commit myself to looking farther than 2 inches from my nose. Looking past the Netflix lineup for the month. 

As I write this at my desk, I look outside my window. Snow is falling on the Berner Munster. A homeless woman drags her cart to the doors of the church many days and sits under the awning. Someone needs help so close to me I could yell to her, Ebenezer Scrooge style. But I don't know the German word for 'goose'. Fear continues to hold me back. 

Fear is the mind-killer. -Dune, by Frank Herbert
 

Alles Gute zum Geburtstag: A birthday for the ages

I turned 34 last week. My favorite thing to do on my birthday the last few years is to just be in nature, reconnect with who I am, who I want to be. Try to spot what is going right and what is not. 

Covid 19 has defined this year. It governs every decision from how to go to the store to how to travel around. To combat the fatigue of quarantine, every once in a blue moon we try to get a little farther from home. Renting a car helped us extend the leash that has tethered us to our apartment.

Friday we went to a remote region on the Swiss section of the Tour du Mont Blanc (an ultra marathon route going through France, Italy, and Switzerland) so I could get a bit of a taste for it. Let me just say that it was oh so sweet. The trail was pretty stunning but rugged. 

Cambrie came and opted to hang out by Lac de Champex while I went for my excursion of self-discovery.

The actual trail peaks at Fenetre de l'Arpette. I was 800 meters away, but it was a bit too snowy and boulder strewn to find my path without risking breaking my leg so I shifted my plans a bit. There was a steep chute that seemed to give a similar view so I risked the scramble and was satisfied enough with what I saw to come back.

The next day we thought we would take it easy. Let me try that again, we THOUGHT we'd take it easy. We tried driving to Oeschinen lake and found out once we were there that it's a four mile round trip hike with quite a bit of vertical gain. I asked Cambrie what she wanted (you know, 8 months pregnant Cambrie) and she suggested we saunter along the trail and she would stop whenever she got tired. She did the entire thing! Hero points for her. We had great views of the valley below, even though the lake was a bit crowded. 

 

An Insider's View into the Mind of an Expecting Parent

10:30 pm. 

I settle into my comfortable chair and started reading a Chinese sci-fi, not my typical choice but it's turning out to be pretty interesting. It was an exhausting 13 hour day of work starting early and ending late. Cambrie is getting ready for bed. I hear her call my name across the apartment. Not uncommon, she loves attention. I lazily respond, "What?". She yells again, but this time I detect a hint of worry in her voice. Not a lot, just enough to real in my attention.

I get up to investigate further.

"Bryce, I fell."

"Are you ok? How did you fall?"

"I feel fine." Uncomfortably long pause, "I fell on my back, so not on my belly. What do we do?"

My fingers grip my phone and ask the parenting gurus of the internet for help. This is what hours of Instagram scrolling has trained me for. Cue Rocky soundtrack as my fingers sweep across the phone with the dexterity of a teenager. It only takes a few seconds.

"Call the midwife. Definitely since you're in the third trimester."

During the call my brain is waking up again. For the first time in my life I feel pangs of worry for my child. Wait, let me re-punctuate that last part...MY child! I can't help but worry that this seemingly small incident hurt him, possibly seriously. As my mind spins through worst case scenarios, eventually I can't help but realize how woefully unprepared I am for what's coming. 

Even in the best case scenario, I am in for a lifetime of these kinds of worries. Every time he trips and bumps his head. Every time I carry him around and risk dropping him. Every time he leaves my sight. No matter how careful I am, this little guy is going to get hurt sometimes. He's going to feel pain, from the very beginning. 

If you would like to live your life not knowing an uncomfortable truth, skip this next paragraph. If you read on you will lose just a little bit of that childish innocence you still cling to. It will haunt you. I wash my hands of this and you have been warned.

.............................................

I recently learned that babies born via Caesarean section don't come into contact with essential bacteria from the mothers' vaginas and that causes problems with developing healthy gut bacteria. This has been solved by swabbing the baby's face with the bacteria after birth. However recently doctors have discovered that bacteria from the mothers' feces is missing. Researchers have started feeding a dose of it to babies and it seems to be helping. My point of delving so deep into the disgusting reality of human genesis is that our very beginning of life is horrifying. So much that it's hard for people to even think about. I mean, did you enjoy reading that little fact? NO!

...............................................

I am brought back. We make our way to the hospital. The midwife is wonderful. So cheerful, peaceful, calming. She asks many questions. We listen to our child's heart for thirty minutes. He is fine. We go home. We are exhausted. 

A few days pass. Now as I sit in bed I can see his shape moving on Cambrie's belly. A thought occurs to me and I play Pachelbel's Canon in D, holding my phone to her belly so maybe he can hear. He kicks and wiggles. We laugh.

"With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy." -Max Ehrmann

Home is Where the Heart is: A Walk Through Bern

 

Since the pandemic pulling a "Pinky and the Brain" (taking over the world...get it?) right now, we are forced to shut in a bit more. Nonetheless, I get antsy pretty quickly so instead of exposing ourselves to public transportation, restaurants, hotels, and people in general, we have been exploring around here more lately.

First we start with the bears. There are three who live on a hillside by the river 5 minutes from us. I assume this one takes his porridge particularly hot and is pretty upset about someone sleeping in his bed.

We took a stroll today to enjoy Autumn in the city, so here are some pictures of that.

Bern with the Alps in the background

I don't know why, but I always love seeing mushroom clusters

Under the bridge

A very unique part of Bern is that clean water surrounds you at all times. The crystalline Aare River surrounds the city (it is a tradition to float down the river, which we have done several times). There are also 100 public fountains around the city center, most from the 16th century. In the background the Zytglogge, an 800 year old astronomical clock tower, can be seen. We live just to the left of this fountain above an antique shop. I hope I am never numb to the beauty of this city.

Great Swiss Bakeoff

I don't know if it's her motherly instincts kicking in, the excess time-off, or inspiration from above, but Cambrie has been baking more than she ever has. Everyone voted and we're happy about it.

It's so fun for us to plan new things to bake and to find new occasions to justify the effort. I think it's also funny because Cambrie has always sworn that she hates cooking in any form. People have often tried to convince her that if she just gets into it she would like it, but she adamantly argued that she was never born to cook. I guess our interests, passions, and convictions change over time. It does make me think that there could be hobbies or ideas out there that I have rejected but I may like now. If anyone out there in the universe reading this has an experience like that I'd love to hear about it.

While we've been in Bern (about a month now), she has baked mini key lime pies:

She made cinnamon rolls (pictured unfrosted, how scandalous):

Cookies:

And my personal favorite, the elegant cheese danish:

Not pictured, healthy muffins...weird that we didn't take a picture of those...don't read into it.

............................................

Added Oct. 25th 

Phenomenal pumpkin chocolate chip muffins.

Lauterbrunnen and Mürren

 We wanted to celebrate Cambrie's birthday a few weeks ago by taking a small trip to the Dolomites. However, several weekends of rainy forecasts have delayed us. This weekend, despite another rainy forecast, we decided to go to Lauterbrunnen and Mürren. It ended up being wonderful. We waited for the rain to finish in the morning and arrived just in time for some clear skies. 

We have been to the valley before, but this time it was even more magical. The mountains had just been dusted with first snow and the valley walls poured run off down countless waterfalls (we actually did count them once and could see around 15 large waterfalls). 

I went for a run through the valley and Cambrie for a walk. Running tends to ground me. I haven't been able to run all week due to some weird health issues (BPPV is a special kind of hell. I've never tried psychedelics before, but it felt like I was on what I imagine a bad trip to be). 

After we explored the valley we decided to explore the cliffs above by taking a cable car and train to Murren.

We have wanted to ride a snowy mountain train so it was exciting to find this one. When we got to Murren we were both surprised how abandoned it was. Only a few travelers were there, which for me made it even more magical.