I started blogging a few months after I moved north with my newlywed husband. Life was an adventure. I ate polar bear and snowmobiled under the northern lights. I swam in the arctic ocean, spending but a moment before running for the shore screaming, my limbs frozen solid. I went to sewing class taught by extremely talented Inuit woman, who had faith in me that I could make a traditional parka, with lots of help from friends I did. I tried chewing seal skin for a lady who was making Kamiks, I wore a traditional parka called an amauti that holds a baby in the back pouch, and carried my first child Ez inside. I ran from the possibility of being stalked by polar bears when my husband left myself and two of my great friends out on the land alone without a gun (we ran back to town faster then the snow melts in the south). I sat out on the land, in the middle of winter, the only sound in the entire world, my breath. I had an adventure. We had an adventure. And I had plenty to write about.
One day my husband was transferred through work back down south. We had planned on staying north for a few more years, but the tempting offer to return to the city I grew up in, close to family and friends won out over the adventures of the north. We had started a family up north, Ez had been conceived and spent her first 9 months there (I delivered down south, long story short: you have to leave the community you live in a month before delivery to the closest hospital and I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t do it alone. So I returned to family in the south during that period. Also, one word Epidurals). We had decided for our daughters sake to be with extended family (also free babysitting HELLO) we would make our transition back to cell phones and Starbucks.
Before we moved back we found out we were expecting again, we were going to have another girl. So we moved, with a 9 month old, me pregnant and Nathan starting a new job. It was INTENSE. But we were happy to be back and eventually settled in. I had decided I would start blogging again as soon as we moved south, but never knew what I would write about. I kept putting off writing because frankly I was exhausted being pregnant, doing renovations and chasing a budding toddler around. Then in March 2010 the unthinkable happened. My beautiful baby girl was born still. Life at that second changed. I was devastated and lost. The path I thought I had been going down evaporated into thin air. With the support of family and friends, and most importantly a little shinning smile that I get everyday from my beautiful girl Ez, I’ve pulled myself together.
I have been crushed by life, left completely heartbroken. But there is nothing to do but keep going. This life is mine, and I’m not wasting it on giving up. I have too many more adventures to have and blog about. They might not be about the north anymore, but I’m sure they’ll still be as entertaining. My name is Jen, formerly of Nunavut, presently of big town Ontario, mother, photographer, budding BBQ-er, expert toy tidy-er.