Crying And Trying in Quebec: Quebec City 1992

After visiting Francis in Montreal, we drove over to Quebec City on our own. Sure, we were impressed. We hadn't been to Europe (well, Fru had been to Sweden in the seventies), so for us this was like being in a European City. The French was nice to hear, but we were glad we could speak all the English we wanted.

We had not picked a place to stay, so that was one of the first things we started looking into. Sure, we were impressed with the big castle-like Hotel Fontenac, but in those days we'd never think of staying there (Fru would, actually, but we were young parents of one baby, maybe fourteen months old, maybe less.) So eventually we found a little French hotel in the old city. Can't recall the name, other than it was a woman's. She showed us a room on the first floor--a nice big room with a big bed and lace curtains and a big old bathtub. It was fine.

At this time, Fru and I were trying for another baby. She was trying to get pregnant. So, we thought it would pretty cool to conceive the second child in Quebec City.

And there was that big old bathtub.

But that night--after walking the city and a bottle of wine in the room--First Daughter cried. I don't mean just cried a normal cry, no, this was a wail. Unstoppable.

We did not know what was wrong, until we changed her diaper and saw a horrendous case of rash. Oww. We did our best to calm her, to treat her, to get her to sleep. Nothing doing. Now we were worried about the other guests, about the woman owner. People had to hear it, this baby wailing. We felt bad.

Finally, we did get her to sleep. We did get that bath. But Second Daughter was not conceived in Quebec City.

Must have been all the noise.