Take Me Out to the Ice Rink...

Well, 5 hours of much-needed napping later, I can officially state that I both survived and really enjoyed our little field-trip to Raleigh and the RBC Center to see a game in which the Hurricanes stuck it to the Devils and the guy in our net got a shut-out against his childhood hockey idol. Wooooooohoo! The game itself was very fun to watch since it went the way we would have wished, and Daniel and I derived special pleasure when the folks running the arena music used both of the songs we had privately declared necessary to the day: Mötley Crüe's "Shout at the Devil" and "To Hell with the Devil," by everybody's favorite Christian hair band, Stryper. Perhaps that was naughty of us to think and even naughtier to admit. Oh well...

Even if the Hurricanes manage to make it into the next round of the playoffs or even further, I think this was it for us, possibly until we have an older infant who is up to long drives and big crowds... assuming we can afford to buy our way into the building at that point! These are my top three reasons for this conclusion:

1. The level of noise in that building is off the charts, and it's not the sort of thing I want to expose baby to repeatedly since I am not sure whether it could damage his hearing or cause other problems in the womb (moms who are occupationally exposed to excess noise sometimes have babies with hearing damage and/or preterm labor); it certainly wouldn't do a newborn any favors. It was hard to tell if the noise really affected him at game time, because he seemed to go through periods of activity and stillness much like he does at any other time and place.

2. It really was something of an ordeal for me to survive the drive and then get to and from the car and to stand and sit repeatedly.

3. The day was a nutritional waste, because arena food is garbage, fast food on the drive is worse, and even the restaurant we went to before the game didn't really have Nikki's-pregnancy-friendly food. It was delicious as only garbage food can be, but it's absolutely not the way I am trying to live these days.
Since this was such a big deal for us and because it's baby's first game (one for the memory books, even though all he is likely to remember is a roar if anything), I decided to so something extra. I don't really fit into my Canes jerseys very well these days, so I hatched a plan to sew the baby's jersey onto the belly of one of my maternity shirts. At least that way HE would be dressed for the game. Better yet, I even pulled it off pretty well. Apparently, those smart enough to figure out what I had done thought it was "the cutest thing ever". I was told that at first glance it just looked like I had some strange apron on, but once other ladies figured it out, they were all smiles and asking me to show my team-spirited belly to their friends. In this way I met a doula and, a bit later on, a labor and delivery nurse, both of whom wanted to know where I was going to deliver. I can safely say will not be locally to them unless something very unexpected happens.

It was fun to be out in a crowd, especially realizing that our current looming health scare, if it pans out into pandemic proportions, so to speak, may make it harder to go to public events without taking on serious health risks. So, we enjoyed what could also be for us one last opportunity to high-five strangers and sit in close proximity to 18,000 other people without too much fear that death is on one of their hands.By the time the Canes had made the formal invitation to a game 7 and sent the Devils packing with their tails tucked, I was very glad that we opted for a local hotel room there by the arena, because even though it meant a very early drive back home and a short stay on a bed that I, while experiencing it in real life, described in a dream as akin to a "slab of concrete," it was really nice not to have to make the amount of driving in one day climb to 4 hours, since the drive is arguably the worst part of it for me. Once we were home, Daniel dropped me and our luggage off at home and went on to work, so I think he may be the worst off of the pair of us. I, for my part, settled down on my layers of memory foam with a couple of cuddly kitties to dream.

Go Canes!