Shalom, Israel. L’hitraot (I hope!)

It is almost time.

We are entering our final days of life in Israel. Our cars are gone.  The house is down to bare bones. Our accounts are turned off and closed.  Living in Israel has been an experience I can never fully reflect in words. Its beautiful. It's exciting. Its hard. Its fascinating. Its frustrating. Nothing can ever be easy in this country, yet there is something about the challenge of overcoming the frustrations that make you feel like you are on top of the world. Winning an argument (or at least holding your own!) with an Israeli is one of life's greatest accomplishments. Hell, there are days that just making it to the grocery store and back feels like I accomplished one of life's greatest challenges. (Trust me, if you lived here and you weren't used to the Israel way, you'd feel the same way!)  Leaving this amazing country is hard.  The beauty, the history, the excitement, the pride... something about Israel feels right in my soul.  I love it here, and I am so sad to close this chapter.  I will forever be a supporter of this country, and although I am not an Israeli citizen, I feel so lucky that I have been able to be a part of them for a short time.

When we set out on this adventure, it was really meant to be a temporary, three year adventure for our little family of 3.  A chance for us to explore, see the world, and learn more about this amazing, tiny little country we would otherwise probably never have visited (and definitely never took the time to learn more about.)  I quit my career to say "yes!" to this new, unknown adventure, and I've never looked back.  Making the decision to stay international in our next assignment was a no-brainer for us.  The experiences are so rich, and the chance to raise Ledoux (and soon to be baby J) in different countries and cultures is something that Lee and I believe will make them true world citizens.  Living abroad has opened our eyes to the importance of raising our children to learn, seek to understand, and value the differences in cultures and traditions. Ledoux has friends from across the world, and has learned more about diversity and acceptance in three years than most adults I know.  I want her and her little sister to have exposure and experiences like this that shape who they become, and living in an international landscape allows that. I look at Ledoux and hope that when she grows up and sets off on her own life that she "YES" to every opportunity she can, seeks out adventure, and doesn't let fear of the unknown or unfamiliar dictate her experiences. For us, this lifestyle is encouraging all of those things.

No doubt life in England will be easier in most every way.  I am excited for this, but also wonder if it will get boring? When everything seemingly works they way it should and routines and laws are in place (and followed)... will it get... old? Blah?   Its funny I even write something like that, but transitioning from this country to somewhere like England seems almost too easy.  I also wonder how Lee will do with the transition.  As he says, living in Israel has helped him to "blossom" his skills in confrontation, assertiveness, and overall "I don't give an F*c&itude".   Lee had a call with someone from the UK the other day to set up our bank account there, and by the time the call was over he was so frustrated- visibly annoyed.  Like... you could really tell he was over it.  When asked why, his response was "they are too nice!"  If you know Lee, you know that he fits in really well out here.  I hope he doesn't make someone cry his first day in the new job.

So now, in two days, we set out on part two of this adventure. A new country, a handful of week before we have a new baby, and new friends to be made. With teary eyes, I bid Israel and all of our friends  "L'hitraot"... because we already have plans to return in the spring to visit.  I am leaving a part of me here, and take a small piece in my heart.

Shalom, Israel... and like Ledoux said: "It is time to go make new memories!"

XO, The Abels

A Red Harley

The Red Harley I imagined

Pregnancy turns you into a special kind of crazy.  There is crazy- and then there is me.  The special kind. 

I don't have any fun doctor stories to share this week.  I actually got a go an entire week without seeing a single doctor.  Or a blood-puller-outer. (They are called phlebotomists, right?) I didn't have to show a single ultrasound picture to anyone. (You need to read last week's post if you don't understand...) And I didn't have to pee in a cup. 

But I did have an epic meltdown.  It was so epic that Lee and I took pictures.  It was a total out of body experience- I was a HOT MESS and couldn't stop myself- I knew in my head I was turning a corner in my pregnancy- from controlled psycho to straight out, legit, psychopath.  No more leashing it in, no more hiding it, we are at a new stage in this pregnancy.  Effing Psychotic Maniac stage.  My head was saying "Becca, WTF is wrong with you? Stop it!" but my body was saying "Rage on, Psycho!" And rage on I did.

My Veggie Chips.

It started with veggie chips. I love veggie chips. They make me feel healthy AF. (Side note: using these acronyms makes me feel "hip" and "cool" and not like a mid 30's mom trying too hard. Judge me, I don't GAF.)  Anyway, back to my chips.  Today they made me want to puke.  Such a downer. All I could think about all morning was Lee bringing me to the health food store to pick up veggie chips. I love the smell.  I love to color of them.  I love that I buy them at the health store so I feel sooooo obviously healthy.  I grabbed my chips, waiting in line, paid for them, and was ready to get to the car and eat them. The things my dreams are made of... atleast today.  Imagine the let down when I got all the way back to the car and opened them up, only for them to make my stomach turn. The smell, the texture, all of it made me sick. And then my favorite soda water (which makes me feel like I'm drinking a cocktail because of the bubble water) tasted meh. Coupled with the onset queasiness from my chips, it was an immediate mood buster. Double let down.  And this started the snowball that ended in my preggo crazy being elevated to a 10.

I'm cute, I know. 

On the drive back, Lee started talking about motorcycles.  Typically I semi-tune out for this, because I don't know the difference between an exhaust and a carburetor. Do motorcycles even have that? Case in point, I have no clue.  Anyway, today I was listening.  He was telling me all about the new Harleys that are coming out, and the engines and how fast they are, etc. etc.  And then he started telling me about a new color he likes-RED.  This is a pretty typical Lee conversation.  But today, all I could think about was Lee buying a new bike and then going fast, which then made me think about him popping wheelies on his Harley (again, can you even do that?) and I was imagining all of this and then BOOM! I thought, he can NEVER have a red harley- because I cannot do life without him.  And a red harley will certainly cause him to act reckless and something will happen. No other color Harley you guys, just Red. (Totally makes sense, right?)  All of this is going through my head as Lee is talking- and I just burst out into hysterical tears.  Poor guy just looked at me and wondered what he said wrong.

This then turned into my hysterically crying over what I would do without him.  Which turned into me crying that little baby girl wouldn't meet Lee.  Which turned into me crying because I would have to work 3 jobs and would be alone. Which turned into me crying because I really wanted to eat my veggie chips.  Which reminded me how angry and frustrated I was that my soda water didn't taste right. A viscous circle of sadness and anger and let down, and I just cycled through all of this- each time with my crying getting heavier.

Hysterical Laughing Stage. 

And then, in this exact moment, my phone got a notification from google photos.  Effing google photos sent me a "memory" picture from 5 years ago and my hysterical crying turned into full body sobs because I looked cute.  And I liked my hair do.  Which then caused me to completely ruin my current hair do to make a point that I wasn't nearly as cute now as I was then.  (And even if I thought I was, ruining my hair do completely ruined that.)  Picture someone with makeup running, crying, and running their hands through their hair messing it up- all to make a point that I am no longer cute.  Psycho.

And then I started laughing.  Hysterically laughing.  And Lee started laughing. Which caused me to cry because he wasn't taking me seriously.  And in the middle of full body sobs I started laughing again. Seriously... this is life with me as a pregnant person.  And we're only half way done!  Buckle up, Lee.  This is going to get "fun".


Oh, and once I finally fixed myself up enough to leave the car and walk into the light where someone might see me, Lee said "So I guess its a no on getting that red harley, huh?" 

Balagan Gadol

Turns out this is the key to everything

A Big Mess.  Balagan Gadol.  That is how I will describe my first week of pregnancy in Israel.   You guys, I couldn't make this up if I tried.

A quick summary of week 1:  I had my first OB appointment on Friday (August 10th) and since then, I have had 3 ultrasounds.  And the standard blood/urine tests (which took 3 hours, story below).  And I've seen my doctor twice and another doctor once.  I am sure you are thinking "Holy cow Becca, something must be wrong!" but no, no, no... nothing is wrong. This is just pregnancy in Israel.  Looking forward, I have two more doctor visits scheduled in the next 6 weeks because we go every 3 weeks.  And 4 more ultrasounds.  I'm not kidding.   Not only do I get two do 2 "standard" ultrasounds in the next 6 weeks, but also a maternal cardiologist scan, and than another anatomy scan. I told my OB today that I have already had more ultrasounds in one week than I did the entire time I was pregnant with Ledoux.  He gave me a smile and a laugh- perhaps he thought I was exaggerating? Maybe it was the language barrier? I'll never know. 
-------

If you have 5 minutes and want to be amused at my expense, I'd like to share the mess that we had to go through today to get a standard blood draw. A blood draw that in the end took 3 minutes, but took us 3 hours to do.  How is that possible you ask? Allow me to share the balagan that we went through today.

Lee and I dropped Ledoux off at school and we headed to the blood lab. I had to go get the typical blood tests done that are required in weeks 16-20- no biggie.  I knew where to go, had the exact blood lab form with me so I could hand it to the lab, and was certain this would be a no fuss visit.

Ya Effing Right. I forgot I am in Israel.

When we got to the lab, I handed the lady (who speaks zero english) the form.  She looked at it, and then went to the back.  I assumed it was all good so I took a seat to wait for her to call me in. A few minutes later we hear a couple voices speaking in Hebrew- I don't know exactly what they said, but they were clearly confused and arguing about something.  The lady came back up and brought with her someone who spoke a teeny bit of english. They didn't understand what one of the tests was that the doctor wanted done (for all you preggo people, its the standard Alpha Beta Protein test... nothing crazy!) We don't understand Hebrew, they don't understand english, so we ended up calling my OB to talk to them directly.  Luckily, he actually answers his cell phone on the weekends (Friday is a weekend day in Israel).  All seemed beseder, everyone at the lab now understood, so we hung up with the doctor.

Blood test time! Woop! Lets get this done so I can get breakfast. Not so fast...

 The lab lady said "Do you have your ultrasound?" Uhhh... what? I don't carry my ultrasound picture around with me?!  She continued to try and tell me that in order to have my blood drawn I needed to give them my ultrasound picture.  We argued back and forth (well actually Lee argued and I just stood there trying not to loose my shit) trying to understand why on earth they needed that. Lee even had pictures on his phone that he could email them, but it still wasn't good enough.  They wanted a legit, original picture. We continued to ask WHY, and they called "management." Great, we are going to get thrown out.  "Management" came up, and said in Israel it is required that we provide ultrasounds in order to do these tests. And then he walked away.  Thanks for clarifying, dude!  I mean, come on guys... clearly I am not there to get a pregnancy blood screen done for the hell of it.  Trust me, if I had my choice, I would be at the Shuk drinking beer right now and working on my buzz but I am most certainly pregnant- hence the reason I am sitting there with them trying to get my PREGNANCY LABS DONE!  Not sure why I need to provide an ultrasound picture to prove this.   I can't imagine people go do pregnancy labs for the fun of it.

Since we didn't have this golden picture, she agreed to do two of the blood tests but the third would have to wait until I brought her the scan. I didn't want my visit to be a total waste of time, so I agreed to do what we could. Then she asked me to pay 780 NIS. Roughly $215 US dollars.  (We have insurance and everything gets billed through the International department of the medical center we go through- and this lab is a part of that department)  Only then, when I questioned her on why she was trying to charge me, did she realize I was a patient though the International department.  I thought my english and having Lee with me would be a dead giveaway I am not from here, but perhaps we are becoming more Israeli than I thought.  She gave me all my paperwork back, and said I needed to go upstairs to and speak to the medical records department, where I would get yet another form, and then they could proceed to draw my blood (for 2 of the 3 tests) without paying out of pocket.

Deep breathe. Upstairs I went. And I waited.

Another form! And also, they keep our medical records in those high tech plastic sleeves.  Totally efficient! (Sarcasm) 

Sure enough, the nice lady in the medical records department took the lab paperwork from my doctor, and printed out another piece of paper that pretty much indicated exactly what my doctor wrote: do x/y/z tests.  Same stuff, different paper.   In the meantime, Lee had texted my OB to see if he could fax over one of the copies from our ultrasound we did with him a week ago.  He requested that we come in to his office when we finished in the medical records department, and he would just do a new ultrasound.  (Again, thank god my OB actually responds to calls AND texts on a weekend.  And he was in his office!)

He is as thrilled as me to spend all morning doing this.  So. Happy.

Got in the car, headed to Dr. T's office. Got yet another ultrasound done.  Dr. T said them making me bring the ultrasound picture is "Bullshit".  His words, not mine.  But we all agreed.  Its bullshit. Nonetheless, armed with fresh ultrasound pictures AND the same (but different) form for the lab, I was finally going to get my blood drawn!

....Or not.

We got back to the lab, gave the lab lady all of the required information, and were ready to be poked! But, my friends, even with everything we needed, it still wasn't right.  The form I had was in english, and now she wanted the EXACT SAME FORM filled out, only in Hebrew.  She indicated with lots of pointing that I needed to once again go back upstairs and have the medical records department fill it out for me.

Another deep breathe.  So back upstairs and across the courtyard I went.

I payed the sweet old lady yet another visit and explained to her that her form she gave me wasn't enough and they wanted the same form filled out in Hebrew.  She said something (in Hebrew or Russian, not sure) and then said they have never had to do a Hebrew form.  (Reminder: this is the International medical department so its really, really uncommon to have language barrier issues.) When they didn't answer her phone calls,  she grabbed all my paperwork and walked back down to the lab with me. After what I am certain was some scolding on her side, the lab FINALLY agreed to draw my blood.

Oh hey! Its me! Just trying to get my blood drawn and keeps smile on my face. But what I really want to do is kill someone and drink wine. 

3 hours later, we got our super simple blood test.  It took 3 minutes from start to finish. If I have this much content just for a blood draw, imagine what its like to actually have a baby here.  YAY ME! I get to find out!  So. Excited. (that is sarcasm again, FYI)

Ain't it funny how life changes?

Cue the Thomas Rhett Song.  If you don't know this song, or worse yet- don't like country music- are we even friends?  It is kinda my motto right now.  

It seems like when our little family does life changes, we do it BIG.  And this year, we have some biggies coming our way.  

 I figured it would only be right to bring back my poor, sad, lacking attention blog that I started when we moved here to document the fun that is to come.  Well- fun might be a subjective term and I use it a bit sarcastically. Between figuring out our next chapter (where in the world will be go next?!) and our newest arrival... it will be a fun year to share, and if nothing else- I will enjoy looking back on it all someday.  So here we go...

We are entering what is likely going to be our final year in Israel and Ledoux will be celebrating her birthday over here for the third consecutive year.  So crazy to think that this is the third birthday she will have in Israel.  I never in a million years would have thought the time would have gone this fast.  I definitely would have never thought I would love it here.  And now, the thought of leaving leaves me teary eyed.  I love living in Israel- even with the crazy that only can be experienced in this small country... it is a place that has become very much a part of me.  There is truly no other place in the world like it. 

If you missed the big announcement that I thought would never actually come (like-NEVER come as in I wasn't sure we'd ever have another child)- we are going to be a family of 4! SAY WHAAAAT? Yep, that is currently a child growing inside of me. Your shock was nothing compared to mine, I assure you.  REAL TALK for a minute: It took me a solid few weeks to mourn my life of happy hours and wine on the beach and traveling whenever to wherever  and life as I knew it. I don't care if you judge me, its true. And the icing on the cake was knowing this little baby would be born in Israel- not exactly my ideal place to have a baby.  Given how difficult everything can be in Israel... the thought of having a baby out here terrified me (and still does, to be honest!) Between the differences in care, delivery, and lack of shopping options (hello- part of the fun of having a girl is shopping!) it is going to be much, much different than my experience with Ledoux.  Im excited to share it on my blog and document this next crazy chapter.  I have no doubt I will look back on the stories and laugh at them someday.

Practicing with dolls!

Oh, and did you catch that last paragraph?  Yep, its a girl! Lee is screwed- he is totally outnumbered.  He always joked he would need to get a big, male dog someday but I don't think he is joking anymore.  Its his only shot at having another male around.   Everyone asks me if he wanted a boy (mostly because Lee kind of oozes man and testosterone and all that dude stuff...) and to be honest- he actually wanted a girl.  He has got the crazy emotional ups and downs on lock, can do a mean braid, and is getting pretty good at his girl "fash-on" (as Ledoux puts it.) He'd have been happy either way, but girls are what he knows.  And look at that pic? He's a natural!

So friends, here we are- the return of the good old bloggy blog.  I head to my first OB appointment in Israel tomorrow... pray for me mmmmk?  And also, if you are actually going to pray for me, also pray for Lee.  He wasn't here when I was pregs with Ledoux so I am allowing myself full reign to feel all the crazy I didn't get to feel then and send it all his way.  I lost my shit this week because all I wanted was potato soup- I'll spare you the details but when I want potato soup, apparently its life and death.  Atleast you would have thought that given my outburst of tears when we couldn't find it anywhere.  Im a psycho. Totally happy to admit that.  Who in the eff cries about potatoes?  

Pray for Lee, prayer people. Pray Hard.

Stay tuned for all the fun "pregnant in israel" stories to come.  

XO