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The birth of our children was a miracle to me. Completely ordinary in so many ways, but the births unfolded entirely the way we had hoped. It all went right.More than anything, this is a story of thanks.Over and over again people said that pregnancy and birth is enormous. Powerful. Transcendent. More than anything, they said, your child’s birth results in a rush of emotion and connection and love. Everything changes.This made no sense. I didn’t get it. Didn’t understand how that could be. What changed? It made no sense to me. Some say I can be obdurate. I don’t disagree.By the time I turned 41, I thought I'd be single the rest of my life, and that was fine. I was having a lot of fun. And the notion of kids seemed as unlikely to me as being the first person to walk on Mars.Then I met the woman who would later agree to be my wife. It was quickly evident that we shared important key values. We met over breakfast, and I knew that I had waited my entire life to love her. Knew it.(2003 - Pemigewasset Wilderness, NH. 4 months pregnant.)We were engaged at three weeks. Married at six weeks. Sometimes you just know.And immediately pregnant...on our one-night honeymoon.Yes, really.The first trimester was tough. Morning sickness laid her low. But from everything we understood, the hormonal change that was lousy for my wife provided an excellent environment for our growing baby. She ate ravenously when she could - chicken wings, Chinese take-out, gallons of Starbucks Java Chip ice cream. and otherwise we didn't worry.Morning sickness passed at week 14, and with it, second trimester vibrancy flooded in. She ate a diet deliberately targeted to the specific growth needs of a developing child. Leafy greens. Vegetables of all kinds. Foods rich in Omega 3s and other essential fatty acids. Black walnuts for fetal brain development. And she was always hungry. More chicken wings, more Chinese take-out, Starbucks Java Chip by the quart every other day. And still not an extra ounce of fat on her.My wife loved being pregnant - loved it! - the entire pregnancy, the whole time to the very end. To her it was a privilege and an honor as a woman to be pregnant, a fascinating event to experience. Even the waddling, uncomfortable, sleepless, hot final days. She embraced it. Every last minute of it. She loved it.Even today she says that she misses being pregnant since the kids were born. 12+ years later. That’s how powerful the pregnancy experience was to her.Pregnancy was an amazing process for me to observe. A pregnancy bump grew out of my wife’s abdomen, like a knot of dough slowly growing into a large loaf of bread. By the end it was literally the size of a small beach-ball. We invented new names for her as she inflated: Rotunda. Girtha, Spherica. Orbica. Gigantica. Galactica.At the same time I found myself worrying about things that never occurred to me before. I did mental calculations of scenarios: after we passed 22 weeks I thought "in a worst case scenario, the baby could now be delivered and stand a chance of surviving". Same at 26 weeks. At 30 weeks I felt much better. And so it went.But instead, she had a lovely pregnancy.We…had a lovely pregnancy. Strangers, women mostly, picked up on this.Women would approach us with a smile and a gentle hand on my wife and comment “oh my gosh, you’re having a beautiful pregnancy! How wonderful. You look great!” This happened repeatedly on the trail, at the canoe launch, at concerts. My wife was part of a strange and wonderful sisterhood.Pregnancy progressed, healthy and vibrant, through the summer and fall. Highly active and outdoors among the beautiful mountains, lakes, rivers, forests, animals, and waterfalls in one of the sweetest patches of land on god’s blue-green earth. We are damned lucky to find our home in the granite-ribbed mountains of northern New England - some of the prettiest land anywhere - and we made the most of it.If you haven’t seen autumn foliage in the mountains of northern New England, you’re in for a treat.Fall in northern New England is spectacular. shhhhhhh…it’s a secret.And sex is pretty great during pregnancy, especially in the second trimester. The vagina becomes swollen and snug during pregnancy, and well lubricated with all those pregnancy hormones and chemicals. Positions become more limited in the third trimester because of the physical size of the growing baby. But looking back, it was a sweet time.We made arrangements to have the delivery in a birthing center. Our first choice was a home delivery, but my wife's mother had used medications during her pregnancy that created risks for my wife's pregnancy. Still, it was centrally important to us to have as natural and drug-free a delivery as possible.And too, we wanted to use a mid-wife rather than a doctor…..until we learned that our maternity doc was a splendid choice for delivery. That decision sort-of made itself.Late in the third trimester, we hunkered down, preparing the crib, finding supplies, getting ready.Nesting, we learned it was called.For the first six months, our child would sleep right next to us in a crib attached directly to our bed...a co-sleeper. This was an excellent and easy choice. We strongly believed in attachment parenting. We wanted the baby close to us at all times. A co-sleeper allowed the best of all worlds: it kept the baby close beside the bed to be scooped-over into our bed for night-time nursings. But it also allowed the peace of mind that the baby would sleep securely on their own crib space safely away from the tossings-and-turnings of exhausted parents.During the last month, our road-trips became shorter. We stayed closer to home. I went out hiking alone but now carried a cell phone. Just in case. Quiet anticipation hung in the air, nervous and excited. In a change of tradition, my parents came north to visit us for Thanksgiving, a warm and quiet time.By now my wife was huge. I mean absolutely huge. Not fat. Just carrying a huge pregnancy.I massaged her belly and back with Vitamin E oils. The linea negra (“dark line”) developed south of her belly button. Stretch marks crept across her stomach. We smiled at each other and wondered who our baby was.The last couple weeks we slowed way down. We would walk - more like waddle breathlessly - together in the rare, bright late-fall sun, enjoying the air, knowing life was about to change forever. With the baby occupying all interior spaces and using my wife’s bladder as a pillow, she had to get up a half dozen times a night to pee. She bore it all with a smile. She loved the entire pregnancy trip.And we speculated: was it a boy or a girl? Judging from sheer size and their romper-room gymnastics, it had to be a boy. We were sure of it. But other than old-wives tales, we didn’t know. We didn’t care. We just wanted a healthy baby.The weather that late autumn was warm and fine. “Stick season”, we say in northern New England. Days of bright but low sunshine fell onto the land like a blessing, down onto the forest floor. Daylight shortened and the air cooled towards winter. Golden tamaracks blazed and lingered in the wet meadows. Smoke from wood stoves perfumed the air, hovering in lazy tendrils just above the valley floor. Languid “Vs” of migratory birds passed overhead in a steady stream, in no real hurry south.We were excited and nervous: babies don’t come with instruction manuals; we couldn’t wait to meet our new child. Nature held its breath, along with us.then…….BANG!Her water broke right on time! - forty weeks! - just as one of the top-10 blizzards got underway!Perfect.We white-knuckled the drive on snow-choked roads, literally closing behind us, to the birthing center. It was the kind of storm associated with a disaster movie about snow.Another bathroom break on the two+ hour drive (normally 35 minutes!) to the birthing center. And what about that weather? The perfect cliche about the best laid plans going wrong!Six hours of uneventful labor followed, then some difficult transition moments. I cradled my wife in the birthing-tub, mopped her brow, fed her ice-chips, massaged her where she told me to put pressure, helped her stand, lean, sit, squat, find whatever position made the delivery easier.Labor slowed for a while. With the baby in the birth canal, my wife took a nap.I worried about so many things going wrong…what’s happening now? how can the baby breath? weren’t they getting squished? how can this work? But our midwife said everything was perfect. I just kept reminding myself that women have given birth for millions of years in conditions much more primitive than this.Trust the process. Trust the process. Deep breath.Women know how to do this.Then, it started to happen. We could see it…our child’s head started to crown. A skull full of dark hair started to push out, then relax.I worried more. And yet it was amazing.Trust. Women know how to do this.And then their head was completely out. Eyes closed. I saw our child purse their lips as if to say “amniotic fluid was OK for a few months, but how about something else now?”, then rotate in the birth canal as the shoulders slid out…and suddenly there they were… a perfect, healthy, wet, pink, crying, human-being in my wife’s arms.3:45 PMAgainst all expectations my eyes flooded with tears.Our child was here.Our child!In that moment I positively knew that I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.Sobs.(2003 - First morning)I had done a lot of things in life that I thought were the height of cool…was blessed to live an adventurous life, traveled, climbed, paddled, and soared in lands so beautiful I didn’t know where earth stopped and heaven began. Met amazing people in far-away countries. Worked hard. Loved many women. Earned multiple advanced degrees in grad school. Lived well. By the age of 40, I thought I had lived a good life.It turns out, I didn’t know anything.Every single thing I had done in life paled into insignificance compared to the moment my children were born.Somebody, I don’t remember who (the doc?), mentioned off-handedly that maybe we should check to see what flavor we got?A girl.A baby girl.She was perfect. Absolutely perfect…all nine pounds of her.(2004 - At three months. Love to travel.)And then I understood. I realized that there was absolutely nothing on earth I wouldn’t do to make sure she was safe, healthy, and growing well.I had never known her. And I loved her beyond the sun and the moon and the stars.It was just that simple. Exceedingly few moments in life have been so clear wherein I knew that something - everything - had irrevocably changed. Child birth was one of them.I didn’t know I had waited my entire life to meet this child.We cut the umbilical cord together. My wife nursed her. It was perfect.And then something happened that I never thought I'd be ready for: she crapped her diaper! I jumped in to learn how to clean and change her.Proud to say I didn't blink once.The next morning we took photos and video. In one of the videos my wife is nursing, and looks down at the child and burst into tears. Gets me in the feels every time.After all the infant tests, a little more coddling by the midwives, a mid-afternoon dinner, and goodbyes, we drove home through a brilliant-white landscape under a gorgeous sunset evening.By frigid moonlight I shoveled through three feet of new snow into the back-door while my wife waited in the car with our new child. Granny came downstairs into the dark kitchen. I let the dog sniff our daughters birthing hat, then went back to the car to retrieve my family. My wife carried in our daughter and introduced her to granny…who promptly burst into tears.Classic northern New England tradition.It seems that my wife had waited her entire life for this.(2004-Seven months, at a local lake.)Our child nursed later that night. Freshly changed and swaddled, we laid her down in her co-sleeper. Hard silver moonlight flooded through the window onto her little head as she slept.Never in my life had I seen anything so wondrous or beautiful.ROUND TWO!We discovered our second pregnancy early into a two month stay in Newfoundland.It was no different for our second child. Same instincts, same preparation. This time it was during the middle of summer. Our then three-and-a-half year-old daughter helped with nesting preparations. The quiet anticipation and excitement of an expanding family was back.Nesting. This time our daughter helps. She was fascinated with the co-sleeper, where she slept for the first six months of her life. She was excited to become a big sister.We learned that carrying a large pregnancy in the middle of summer heat is taxing. The pregnant body, already running slightly warm, is hard to keep comfortably cool in the summer. Visits to lakes on the hot days helped greatly. My wife also enjoyed the relief of floating weightlessly in the water. I’m not surprised that she dreamed auras of deep greens and blues when she thought about who this child was.A big package. Days to go.Her water broke in the late evening. We alerted the birthing center, told them we’d monitor progress, and come to the birthing center in the morning as labor warranted.Contractions arrived during the dark hours.We arrived at 8:00 AM. The nurse checked dilation, announced 3 cm, and sent us outside for a walk. Forty minutes later we hobbled back into the birthing room. Barely had time to undress and scramble into the birthing tub before the head crowned.Ten minutes later, our second child all but leapt for freedom.A boy, it turns out. All ten pounds of him. Yehp, we grow ’em big up here.Called my mom with the news, who was at a luncheon with friends. She dropped the phone and broke out into sobs. Through the ear-piece I heard her exclaim to her friends “IT’S A BOY!”One hour old. Big sister loved her new sibling before he was even born.(2007 - Three days old. Big sister is excited to have a baby brother.)Two weeks after our son’s birth, we held a “Big Sister Party” in honor of our daughter’s new role in the house. Friends, food, small presents, and well-wishes on her journey as the eldest child guiding her little brother. It felt entirely right and proper to celebrate her transition to a new status in her life.POST PREGNANCYHis first year was rough. We learned he had an incompletely formed stomach flap, allowing stomach acids to irritate his esophagus. He cried a lot. We made up our own songs to him. Sister sung to him constantly.Had we not been fully invested in attachment-parenting, we would have written it off as simply “colic” and let him cry it out.Instead, we worked hard to figure out how to make him feel comfortable and secure. He was happiest when snuggled upright or worn by somebody. And boy, was he a snuggly little guy. Still is. Classic mama’s boy, and it is beautiful to see.(Christmas, 2007 - five months and four years). I have no neck!Loves his mommy time.(June 2008 - Pukaskawa National Park, Ont.)His colic immediately improved when he started walking. As with his older sister, we were happy to let him nurse almost as long as he wanted to. Let’s just say he stopped before kindergarten started.(2010. Six and three. Acadia National Park, Maine)Our parenting philosophy was gender-neutral everything…allowing our kids to naturally develop into the people they felt most comfortable. Turns out that nature creamed nurture…hands down! The kids gravitated towards the gender-stereotypical toys, colors, activities. Our two kids’ preferences couldn’t be more different.(2016 - Nine and twelve, Pinware River crossing, LabradorSo that's our pregnancy story. Two beautiful pregnancies. Two all-natural and un-complicated births. Two superbly healthy, kind, well-adjusted, confident, and smart kids.EPILOGUEAs I write this, my two kids are finishing a game of EarthOpoly. This is one of several moments when they're not in each-other's hair. Instead they play cooperatively together. Most of the time they are great friends, and laugh uproariously together. My daughter leaves for ballet in a few minutes. My son has soccer tonight, horse-riding lessons tomorrow. It's another warm and stupendous early fall day, and within our family sphere, everything is beautiful. Tears run down my cheek as I type this.We're damn lucky. We're not wealthy, but we have plenty of the most important things. Family. Friends. Health. Two excellent kids. A beautiful place to call home. Music. Art. Culture. Good books. Capability. Close community. A rascally rescue cat and lovable rescue dog. Good food. World class cheeses. Equally good beer. Child-birth was nothing short of amazing, including every day since.But there’s nothing perfect about our life. My wife and I work hard. We’ve put on weight. There’s never enough time. We often disagree…not a surprise, she’s whip smart and strong-willed. We fight…fairly. But our pole-star is the kids. Our yardstick is measured by how well the kids are doing. And they are developing into smart, kind, independent, confident and strong-willed young adults. They assert their independence in various ways, some successful, some annoying. Raising kids makes you aware how much you need to improve your own worst faults. We survive the storms.In the end, we always turn back towards each other. We always love. In a way, our imperfection is almost perfect, as if we are constantly working towards something even more beautiful. We always love. Our community is what we make it.(2016 - To Battle Harbor National Historic Site, Labrador)And that’s something else I never anticipated until I experienced it: really great family.It’s been a ride.(2017 - Cape Breton Highlands National Park, N.S.)

From a US-American…MEXICO: Ancient Mesoamerican civilizations (Aztec, Maya, Toltecs), great (and hot/spicy) food, Tequila, beach cities (Cancun, Acapulco, Cabo San Lucas, Puerto Vallarta), El Chapulin Colorado, Mariachi bands, Dia de Muertos, cheap prescription drugs, Art: Kahlo/Siqueiros/Rivera, Salma Hayek, Guillermo del Toro, Mexico City has bad air pollution, Zapatistas, Sinaloa Cartel and Los Zetas, commonly thought to have high crime rate and corrupt public officials. Seen as our prime source of illegal immigrants. Seen as hard-working but lacking manners and sophistication. As Mexico looms so large in the US consciousness compared with other L-A countries we tend to let it define Latin America for us.CUBA: Castro/Communism, Malecon, Soviet missiles, Guantanamo Bay Prison, Rum, cigars, baseball players, Old 1950’s Cars, Soviet farm equipment, US-Americans not allowed to visit. Cuban immigrants to the US tend to be politically conservative, staunchly anti-Communist, and do not identify strongly with other Latin-American immigrants.EL SALVADOR: MS-13 and Archbishop Romero. Salvadorans are seen as proud but hotheaded and veering on violent (due to association with MS-13 and 18th Street Gang).PUERTO RICO: Like a smaller Cuba that’s part of the United States and got US imperialism instead of communism. Many people from the US are only dimly aware that Puerto Ricans are US citizens.NICARAGUA: Sandinistas and Contras. No strong impression of Nicaraguans. Most Central Americans are seen as similar to Mexicans.COSTA RICA: US-Americans go here for plastic surgery and dental work. Costa Rican population in the US is tiny, and thus there are no strong impressions of them as a group.HONDURAS: No strong impression. Seen as similar to Mexicans.BELIZE: Are they even Latin American? Their official language is English.PANAMA: Canal and Manuel Noriega. Like the Costa Ricans, they have a small immigrant presence in the US and there aren’t a lot of opinions of them.COLOMBIA: Coffee, Pablo Escobar/Cocaine, narcotraficantes, high murder rate.VENEZUELA: Hugo Chavez and socialism, oil, Angel Falls. As of 2019, most Americans regardless of their political beliefs see the country as a basketcase.PERU: Machu Picchu/Inca Civilization, Lake Titicaca, great food, llamas, people wearing knitted hats or else bowler-style hats, Nazca lines in desert.BOLIVIA: Like Peru but with no Machu Picchu or Nazca lines.ECUADOR: No strong impression, seen as a less interesting version of Peru.CHILE: Mining and Pinochet.ARGENTINA: Buenos Aires and Tango, wannabe Europeans, Lionel Messi, Pope Francis, Las Pampas, Juan & Eva Peron, gauchos and beef, fighting over Falkland Island/Islas Malvinas, Yerba Mate drank from gourds, fugitive Nazis hiding out here.BRAZIL: Rio de Janeiro/Copacabana, Christ the Redeemer statue, Amazon rain forest, favelas (City of God), modern architecture in Brasilia, Soccer (Football), Pele, Ronaldo, Samba, Bossa Nova, Gisele Bündchen, Xuxa, uncontacted Native American tribes wearing face-paint and using blow guns with poison darts, rivers are full of electric eels and piranha, Iguazu Falls. High rates of violent crime.URUGUAY: No strong impression. Seen as similar to Argentina/Argentines.PARAGUAY: No strong impression. Seen as similar to Argentina/Argentines.FRENCH GUIANA: No strong Impression. May be confused with (non-French) Guyana or with Guinea in Africa.DOMINICAN REPUBLIC: Thought of as similar to Cuba without the Communism.HAITI: Poor, low literacy rate, voodoo, Tontons Macoutes, Papa Doc/Baby Doc, environmental problems (deforestation).

From my personal perspective, one of the primary reasons to visit Thailand is the beaches. But, if that is not your pleasure, there are plenty of other things to do and see in Thailand:Day one, start off your day with an early morning tour at the Floating Market then spend the remainder of the day touring the Royal Palace, Wat Phra Kaen (Temple of the Emerald Buddha), and Wat Pho (home of the Reclining Buddha and the National Holistic Institute - massage school, where you can get a great and inexpensive massage from a student)Day two, take a day trip to tour the Bridge on the River Kwai and the associated museum and cemetery.Day three, spend the day at the Chatuchak Week-end Market and the evening on a Chao Phraya River dinner cruise.Day four, if you like jungle trekking and observing wildlife, spend the day at the Khao Yai National Park in Nakhon Ratchasima Province, 122km northeast of Bangkok.Day five, while still in Nakhon Ratchasima Provence, visit Chok Chai Farm, which is a combination working farm, restaurant complex, amusement park and shopping venue.Day six, take a train ride to Chiang MaiDay seven, visit Chiang Mai Adventures, where you can enjoy white water rafting, jungle trekking, bicycle tours, waterfalls, and a zip line through the jungle.Day eight, visit the Golden Triangle Museum, and in the evening visit the night marketDay nine, take the Chiang Mai Hill Tribes tourDay ten, take a day trip to Chiang Rai and explore the cave system (don’t this alone, as this is where the Thai Soccer boys were trapped for two weeks - use a tour guide).Day eleven, travel back to BangkokDay Twelve, take a trip by train or minivan to Hua Hin to visit the Mrigadayavan (Summer) Palace and Wat Huey Mongol.Day thirteen, visit Kui Buri National Park, in Phetchaburi Province, where you can observe wildlife and do some trekking through the forest.Day fourteen, take the Cheow Larn Lake tour in Surat Thani by boat.Day fifteen, Take a bus to Phuket, explore Phuket Town, the night market and see the Phuket Fantasea Show (spectacular cultural show depicting the history and culture of Thailand)Day sixteen, take a long tail boat tour of the neighboring islandsDay seventeen, back to BangkokDay eighteen, shop at some of the many exclusive shopping venues in Bangkok, such as The Emporium, Siam Paragon, Siam Discovery, Siam Center or Terminal 21